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darthwheezely · 3 years

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grande - g.w.

Summary: George meets a mighty adorable barista in the new cafe on Diagon Alley and the man just can’t help himself... based off the song Coffee Girl by Johnny Socko! Sorry this took me absolute ages (9 days oops) to get out, guys :/

Warnings: DIABETIC FLUFF STUPID AMOUNTS OF CARDIAC ARREST INDUCING FLUFF UWU,mentions of sexism, Fred being Fred, cussing probably, alludes to sex, PG/PG-13

taglist or people that might like this but idk: @theweasleyslut @kitwalker02 @loony-loopy-lupinn @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thehufflepuffwife @monoscandal @lupinsclassroom @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys @band--psycho @lumosandnoxwriting @oh-for-merlins-sake @amxrtentias @virgohufflepuff @vivianweasley

George Weasley didn’t sleep. This had long been the habit of his ever since he and his parents had discovered that his elder twin Fred had been an avid sleepwalker by age 4, then became a (minor) party animal in his Hogwarts days, and finally when he became the co-owner of one of the Wizard World’s most successful entrepreneurs and business owners.

The man hadn’t slept in about 18 years give or take. And days like this reminded him of it constantly.

It was a Saturday, the first of the month, and to boot, it was about to be Christmas in a little over a week. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was packed with everyone from couples window shopping, children in desperate need of fun now that school was out, parents trying to keep them in line, and even some old lady named Ethel (who swore she was part Veela, and therefore Fred couldn’t “escape her girlish charm.”)

“Ethel, you have an absolutely ravishing day, and don’t even worry about that moisturizer it’d be a waste of product on a natural beauty like you” Fred winked and kissed the old lady’s hand, George watching from the top of the steps rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie, you know how to keep a lady young, don’t you? Oh - goodbye, Georgie! Have a good rest of your day boys!” She waved majestically to the younger twin on the stairs and he bowed royally in response.

“Bye, Ethel!” They both called as she exited the building, the bells flurrying in her wake.

“Georgie, mate, hate to say it but you are being uncharacteristically quiet and it’s making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable.” Fred said bounding up the stairs to meet him, chuckling briefly.

“Freddie, mate, hate to say it but I’ve had absolutely no sleep as of late and it’s getting to me. But I’ll be back up to my usual antics in no time.” He padded down the stairs, winking at a couple young ladies ogling him, sending them into a fit of giggles. Fred sat down on the middle step eyeing his brother carefully. It didn’t take a genius to see George wasn’t holding on much longer, the dark circles littering his eyes and the way he mussed up his already purposely messy hair just...didn’t comfort his older twin at all.

“George.” Fred sighed, George looking back at him, confused. He took his hands away from the merchandise Wonder Witch he’d been rearranging and gave him full attention.

“Take your lunch break early. And longer if possible.”

“Pffft, why would I do that when I have women to woo and boxes to juggle?”

“George.”

“Fred.”

“Stop, I mean it. You look half dead as it is, just go take a nap or get an espresso from the cafe down the aisle or something that reinforces the idea that yes, you are a human being and no, not a zombie.” Fred crossed his arms feeling suddenly a lot like Molly and dropped the cross. George pretended to ponder this tapping his chin, rather finding the mature brother role reversal funny as hell.

“Oh, alright, but can I still be a zombie when I get back?”

Fred hit him with a folder and sent him on his way.

-•-•-

You had just finished the lunch rush, finally being able to calm down and not have to worry about making one more goddamn Butterbeer Latte for at least another 20 or so minutes...until there’d be another rush. You grabbed a lemon scone, took off your apron and sat against the back counter. You inhaled the citrus scent, it was always something that you loved to savor, and took a bite.

The holidays for the Merlin’s Mochas, the cafe, had been absolutely atrocious so far. All you had for customers were angry businessmen, bratty kids and their upper class parents who let them run around the already small place being rude to everyone, your boss Lionel who had an affinity for calling every woman who worked there a “bitch” (...ok lionel) and to top it all off: you’d been pulling 9 hour days every day except sundays. Needless to say: you kind of super hated your job.

You had just finished your scone when you heard the door chime signal a customer, immediately wiping your hands on your jeans and restrapping your apron.

“Hi how can I-“ oh Jesus this is the hottest man I have ever seen. He was easily no older than 23, fiery red hair, a perfectly tailored striped terracotta suit, green tie, and the most gorgeous doe brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“How can you...?”

“Help you, ohmygod, I am so sorry I’m super-“

“Tired? Yeah me too...interesting how similar we are this early in the game hmm?” He winked at you and your knees felt too weak. No he was just a stupid hot customer that also was really hot and also? Was super hot. No worries, Y/N, just don’t die by 22 okay thanks.

“Very funny...wait are you-“ your finger led from him to the statue outside Wizard Wheezes, realizing a simple oh shit

“Yeah, that would be me. Or my twin Fred but we never really decided, that’s why he kind of looks like both of us mixed. Although we’re twins so we basically look the same anyway. I mean because were identical. Twins, yeah.” George, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you sweating? She’s just a simply beautiful girl in a simply maddeningly purple coffee shop can you please breathe and not make yourself look stupid-

“Oh, wow! I’ve never met a twin before - not like twins are anomalies or anything it’s just so crazy. Science. Science is crazy” You closed your eyes and took a breath

“We should probably start over shouldn’t we?” You wrinkled your nose.

“That sounds much more redeeming than anything we both were about to say” George breathed out laughing softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I’m George. Weasley. Like I said, I work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the shop over there, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before...or you for that matter, I never forget a beautiful young woman.” He said smoothly, his heart steadily subsiding - something about you had the power to not only make him scared out of his mind, but also totally at ease.

You returned the smile, warmly, the blood rushing to your cheeks at his compliment and sticking your tongue to your teeth. “Well, George Weasley, of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And yeah, we’re new around here,” you leaned further onto the counter, realizing, albeit a moment too late that your eye level was directly with his abs now, and although he was wearing a suit...you could definitely tell they were there.

“We erm, just opened three months ago. It’s honestly a bit of a time to work here.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Well, nothing like a blatant sexist to run an entirely female employed establishment and weird stuffy rich people.” Your eyes widened suddenly, and you felt like you had said far too much far too soon. But he gasp-laughed - laugh that ended as soon as it began and burst into a smile...like you had shared a secret with him.

“What the hell is he doing here then? Got a boy’s club to run in a purple coffee shop?”

“I mean you never really know these days, George, imposters are among us at every moment” you purred and pushed off the counter, meaning it as a joke but George’s heart screamed when he heard your name. As you moved to the other edge of the counter, he followed you.

“What a resourceful and cruel young woman, I am starting to like you, Miss Y/L/N.” He clucked. “And do you think of me like you think of Mr. I-Hate-Women-That’s-Why-I-Hire-Them?” He got inches from your face, smelling the coffee beans and vanilla extract that riddled your skin.

“Hmm...Mr. Weasley, I’m not so sure.” You coyly stepped away from him and took long strides to the far end of the coffee bar by the wall. George immediately felt a pit of flirtatious butterflies and (arousal?) something more in his stomach, jaw dropped, he followed you again. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of you.

“Well, how can I convince you?” He asked rather quickly.

“Hmm...” you leaned forward like he did before and his breath hitched in his throat “...let’s get you a cuppa first.”

-•-

“Wait, okay let me get this straight-“

“Yes?”

“You have 6 other siblings.”

“Yes.”

“...because your mom wanted a girl?”

“That-that would in fact be true, yes.”

You thought for a moment.

“So you’re telling me after she made it through you two-“

“-she still wanted to have more of us, believe me, it races through my mind daily.” He nodded vehemently laughing with you. You two had taken to the empty cafe at a table nestled in the corner, him sitting in a chair across from you on a bench. You had both been cracking each other up with stories from your childhoods, like how you both had managed to never know of the other’s existence until now.

He’d discovered that you had transferred from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons early on in your fourth year. You, a Hufflepuff, loved the quiet and soft landscape of the French school. You both had absolutely no idea the other existed. How? The world may never know.

He was brash. You were careful.

He was already flying when you were just feeling comfortable learning how to walk.

But you sat there with him for the better amount of an hour and a half, laughing and interrupting each other with memories of the school years you had, some weird and strange, and especially during fourth year, hard for George to talk about.

Ginny, his baby sister, had almost died. And as he said to you in a candid and highly vulnerable state: he blamed himself for almost letting her go to this day.

“I...I really do believe it was my fault.”

“George, it couldn’t have been your fault. Hogwarts is a big freaking death trap - you and I both know that,” you had said with an exasperated laugh, eager to make him feel better in any facet.

“Yeah, but...I’m her big brother. Yes, she has five other older brothers but...we were supposed to protect her.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “It was her first year, for Christ’s sake, and I paid about as much attention to her as a doorknob would.” He had rolled his jaw and taken a gulp of his gingerbread latte (you had said it was your favorite, and he was loathe to try anything else) and you had softly draped your hand on top of his.

“If she’s as kind and loving and funny as you, I’d love to meet her.” You quipped, a small smile growing on your face in effort to soothe. He had smiled back at you, turning your hand over in his and drawing his digits lazily over your palm.

“Funny, because I was thinking the same thing.”

-•-

He had told you to close your eyes, that much had been true.

See, his coffee had started to get cold. So, like if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll have to have some milk-

If you give a George a latte he will have to not only have another one, but also feel the strenuous need to show off for you and take you to his place of work. Naturally. And it was so lucky that by the time he’d proposed you leave, he even helped you clean and lock up afterwards.

Truthfully, it almost scared you how much he had seemed to care.

“Alright, Y/N, darling, I’m going to release my hands on the count of three, yeah?”

“Perfect, Georgie” you giggled. You’d legitimately only knew him for so long, but you just...you trusted him. He grinned widely, his strong hands only applying a slight amount of pressure as not to hurt you.

“Alright, then. 1. 2-“ he took his hands off your eyes and watched you adjust not only to light, but to your surroundings as well.

“3.” He breathed out taking in the way you smiled like a teenager, face alight with pure inundating wonder. You squealed and started to run around the store.

“Look at these! Pygmy Puffs - ugh they’re so adorable look at this one! Oh, oh - ‘Fizzing Whizbees’ - these look absolutely wicked! And Per- ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’?” You picked up the glittery stone in your hand, and heard a smooth voice perk up behind you.

“A real money spinner, that one.” You turned around and there was a man that looked absolutely identical to George, although entirely different in the same way.

“Handy if you need to make a quick getaway,” you heard George on the other side of you. He smiled warmly down at you, nodding his head up to look at the twin across from him.

“Y/N, this is my-“

“-older, much more attractive and fiscally responsible brother.” He winked and you blushed almost immediately. “Fred. Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Georgie has told me a lot about you and the shop - absolutely marvelous this place is, I cant believe you two created so much in such a short span of time. Brilliant it all is, really!” George had started to flush, rubbing his jaw to seemingly take the red away from his striking face. Fred, upon hearing the genuine warmth from your voice and the unmistakable use of “Georgie” had a small, but highly distinct aha moment:

“Well, we couldn’t have done it all on our own, one of our best friends helped us out a good lot. But thank you, really...it means so much when other people see how much we do and-” he looked directly at George.

“-acknowledge the things we love, right George?”

“Absolutely, Frederick.” Fred had given him the look that seemed to imply: “please, God, make a damn move.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to be off and woo some ladies, have a biscuit and do some paperwork” he smiled wide when you giggled, already enjoying your company.

“But I hope to see you again, very soon, yeah? Please stop by whenever you can, we’re alwYs just down the street.”

“Freddie, for your company, I’m not so sure, I’m still deciding.” You quipped. Fred laughed heartily at that and looked at George.

“Georgie, I like this one.” George looked at you and winked.

“Me, too Freddie, me too.” You leaned back on your heels as Fred padded back up the stairs to the flat, now completely alone with George. You threw your arms behind you back and forth and took a long stride to George.

“So...what are you those?” You nodded up to the array of pink bubbles in a clam shape in the corner. He hummed and reached to grab your hand.

“Love potions - c-can I show you?” He raised an eyebrow slightly, but he felt his whole body turn to mush when you accepted his hand and nodded slowly. As he walked with you, you memorized the feeling of his callouses and veins, the way your hand curled deliberately in his.

You wanted to make sure if it was the last time you felt something like that, you had that memory with you for a while.

“Essentially, if you give these to a person they will temporarily have feelings of love and attraction for you. Depending of course on the dosage you use and the weight of the person in question.” He explained. You watched the way his suit jacket pulled taut against his back muscles and instinctively wanted to honestly just take the whole thing off-

“Hmm...I don’t know about these, Georgie.” You hummed mischievously. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

He scoffed placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Am i being questioned in my own establishment, Miss Y/L/N?”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, bowing slightly at him. “Well, do forgive my feminine insolence, Mr. Weasley, it’s not often I meet such bewitching mad scientists like you.” You watched his face grow blank for a moment at your compliment and immediately wanted to throw up.

“George, I’m really sorry, I know we just became friends-“

“Do you mean it?” He took a step towards you. You swallowed finding again his perfect milk chocolate eyes. You nodded.

“Hell yeah I did, you’re smart...and wicked hot” you both laughed at that. He took another step, the distance being unbearably harder to live in as his digits found a piece of hair and wound it behind your ear.

“Well, darling, the feeling is quite mutual.” He said quietly, taking in the whole of your face. He wanted to crash his lips onto every possible nook and crevice of your face, collide with you entirely.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, then, aren’t we?” You gently nudged his nose with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong and powerful arms pulling you to him gently. He wanted you to feel him not to break under his embrace. He leaned down and brushed his lips up to yours, feeling you whine and let out a minuscule sound.

“Got you making noises for me already and haven’t even kissed you yet, hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered close and one of your legs made it’s way in between his, snapping any chance at loose air between you two out of the way.

“Please, Weasley, pants a bit small for you?”

“Keep talking like that and they might, yeah.” You two laughed softly and with a final look to your lips he closed the last gap.

His mouth was perfect. His lips ghosted over yours one last time before wrapping every part of himself onto your frame, your lips entangled in each other like you’d never be able to taste him again.

But it was loving and slow and sweet. He tasted like gingerbread lattes and pastries and cinnamon and licking into his mouth you could feel the spice. He moaned lightly into your mouth, sending your knees buckling. He dipped you slightly, a hand traveling to your lower back to keep you steady, and his other hand coming up to nestle under the nape of your hair. Your hands caressed his face, his chest, needless to say? You wanted them everywhere. You wanted him everywhere.

The kiss broke and you and George were left breathless in each other’s hold, your foreheads pressed together as he kept you slightly dipped.

“Y/N, I’m feeling a bit tired” he quipped hoarsely, pressing a brief kiss to your lips and onto your neck. You hummed satisfactorily.

“Georgie, you’re gonna need another latte aren’t you?” You set multiple chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, feeling him rumble with a small giggle. He caught your mouth with his and you moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna need a whole pot, to drink you in, love.”

#George weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #coffee shop #Harry Potter #POV you get called cruel and resourceful by George Weasley #new kink unlocked

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toherlover · 3 years

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more fun here

pairing: din djarin x reader (no use of y/n)

Summary: after spending the last 3 weeks on a bounty, din decides to give you the day off, but personal space was the last thing you wanted after spending so much time alone.

wordcount: 2.6k

warnings/tags: alcohol, drinking, language? maybe? i dont remember, lots of fluff, mutual pining, mostly from din’s pov

A/N: hi so i have never actually posted a fic before oop. i have them i just ~dont share~ so this is something new to try for now!

Mando jumped when the hatch fell open, shaken out of light sleep. His hand immediately fell to the blaster tucked into the holster but froze when he saw her trudging up the ramp. She was holding some sort of drink in one hand, her other arm held out to the side as if she was walking on a balance beam. The girl was muttering under her breath, obviously concentrating way too hard on not spilling whatever liquid was frothing in the glass.

When she got to the hull of the Razor Crest she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Hey Mando!” the girl yelled a little too loud, “I’m home!!”

The Mandalorian said nothing. She leaned against the frame and held the glass out to him, panting and starting to slide to the floor.

“I- I got one for-for you!”

He had given her the day to be off on her own, considering how safe the new system they’d landed in was known to be. Maker, she’d spent the last three weeks couped up in the crest by herself. Cabin fever had never really gotten to him, but when he came back this time, bounty flung over his shoulder, it was obvious that it had gotten to her.

He’d felt bad telling her to stay on the ship and only run to the shop when necessary, especially when she butted back in argument. The girl probably didn’t realize it was for her own good, a protective measure. She had rolled her eyes in annoyance, but when Mando didn’t falter in his stance through the fight she reluctantly agreed. He hadn’t meant to leave her alone this long, he truly thought it’d be just over a week, and there was a pang of guilt in his chest for leaving her here like this.

In his absence, the girl had thoroughly redecorated the ship. All sorts of… things, crafts, maker-knows-whats, were sitting atop crates, hung on the walls, clearly made using whatever she’d found rummaging through the spare parts bin and in the singular shop connected to the docking bay.

There was a string of little flickering lights hanging across the hull, pieced together from old console controls. It looked like she had sewed together some old fabrics to create some sort of rug, too.

The girl herself was asleep on the floor, surrounded by papers covered in writing and doodles. It was a mess- whatever she’d been writing was scattered and out of order. The kid was tucked under her arm, completely limp and snoring quietly. They looked like they’d passed out on the spot, mid-activity, on the Crest’s floor. She was wearing an odd combination of clothing he’d never seen before, had she made them herself? The child had a crown woven out of old wires sitting on his head, a matching one had clearly slipped out of her hair.

Mando silently thanked the stars not only for the fact that she was asleep when he got back, but that he had a layer of beskar to hide the smile he couldn’t keep from inching across his face. When he’d hired her a few months back to watch the kid and help copilot as needed, the girl had seemed so harsh. Her knuckles were scarred and she sneered when she called him out on his shit. Which she seemed to love to do.

In the cockpit, they’d sit in silence for hours, something the Mandalorian usually valued with others, but he wished she’d say something. Anything. Occasionally he’d feel her eyes trained on his helmet, or he’d glance back at her to see her clearly thinking deeply about something, but it was never a shared thought. It was quiet.

He’d never admit to it, but he was terrified that she was scared of him. Maker, she’d seen him come back out of breath and dragging a body behind him. She was always standing by when he was at his worst, catching her flinch out of the corner of his eye didn’t make it any better.

But there were moments. Moments he was sure she hadn’t noticed him watching. Moments when she was soft. There were little things. Like how she always gripped the armrest a little tighter and squeezed her eyes shut right before they landed, or how she places a gentle kiss on the kid’s head every night before tucking him in. He doubted she was aware, but she sticks her tongue out just a little bit and fiddles with her necklace when she’s concentrating. Sometimes she leaves little reminders around the ship for them both; they’re always signed with a smiley face at the end.

There were a few times he’d caught her humming to herself and dancing around on her toes. She was graceful- he wasn’t expecting that. For a fighter pilot with such a callous attitude, she was so delicate. So he stayed back, knowing she’d stop the moment she knew he was there.

Or how she left a third woven crown hanging from his seat in the cockpit. No, she didn’t wear a helmet, but it was pretty clear that she hid behind her own layer of beskar, too.

But they had never shared a moment like this: the girl slumped in the door frame, holding a drink out to him with a straw stuck in it. The child toddled over to her.

“Hey little dude!” she put the drink on the floor and held her arms out to him. “Look, sorry I’m back just a little smidgen of a bit late,” she said, words slurring, bopping him lightly on the nose. “I sorta kinda,” the girl’s voice didn’t get any quieter as she tried to whisper, “forgot where we were parked.” She shook her head and held a finger to her lips, “Don’t tell Mando.”

The Mandalorian let out a sigh loud enough to be heard through the vocoder and her head whipped around to face him. “I’m-” she started to get up, “I’m sorry I’m a little bit,” she held on to the wall as she stumbled forward, “a little bit late.” With a huff she gave up and sat back down on the floor, but continued to scootch herself closer to him, only stopping a foot or so before his feet.

Still, he was silent, and the color seemed to drain from her face. Under the cold stare of his visor, she tucked her head back like a child expecting to be scolded. After a few moments, she glanced nervously around the room, looking anywhere besides where she knew his eyes would be. She couldn’t tell the man in front of her was doing everything in his power to stifle a laugh as she struggled to sit up straight.

“Hey, so you’re actually a reeaallly quiet person,” she said softly, fidgeting a bit, “and I don’t know if you know or realize it or not, or if it’s on purpose, b- but when you go all quiet like this I really don’t know- I mean I’m terrible at reading the room anyways- but I can’t tell if you’re mad and I just-”

He cut her off. “I’m not mad.” Her face lit up slightly. Honestly, he wished he was angry. He should have been angry. His ship was a mess. But when she sat in front of him like this, he found it hard to be even the slightest bit irritated. He’d asked her to be back before nightfall, and for once she didn’t ask why or argue back.

“Oh.” She smiled softly then leaned all the way back so that her head skimmed the floor. She reached behind her, grabbing the blue drink and sliding it forward as she sat back up. “It was fun. Probably not your scene, I don’t really know, but the music was good, you would have liked that. You should have come.”

With a sigh, the Mandalorian rose to his feet and held a hand out to her, offering to help her up. She smiled again and let him pull her to her feet, immediately placing a hand on his shoulder to steady herself. His hand landed on her waist to keep her upright. “I don’t really do parties.”

She looked up at him. Somehow, even in her intoxicated state, she always managed to look him directly in the eye. “Yeah, I know. Sorta figured. To be really honest with you though, neither do I, I just wanted to do something a little bit different, yah know?”

“I know.”

They stood there in silence for a minute, then she rested her head against his chest. He froze. She’d never shown an ounce of affection, let alone stand together like this. He knew she was drunk. He guessed the girl wouldn’t remember this in the morning. But still, he held her tightly and savored the moment. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but she leaned against him anyway.

“But the credits I’d give to see you dance in this tin-man suit,” she knocked on his chest and giggled.

“I don’t really dance.”

“Liar. You can so dance. No way you’re that quiet and sneaky and can’t.” Her nose scrunched up as she scoffed at him, poking at his chest plate. “Me, however, whew, you really don’t know what you missed, shiny. You’re holding the worst dancer on this side of the galaxy.”

His head cocked to the side and he paused, watching her poke fun at herself, thinking of all the times he’d caught her tiptoeing around with the child. All the times she would sing quietly and swing her hips while out and about. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “No I’ve seen you dance, you dance all the time.”

Her lips parted as a confused look fell across her face. He couldn’t fully read her expression, but it was clear a million thoughts were flooding her brain. He was instantly worried that he’d offended her. Not only had he invaded her privacy- he admitted it to her face. He worried she’d step away and the moment would end, that she’d go to bed and leave in the morning, taking her pay and her bag. But with one eyebrow raised and a soft smile playing across her face, she wrapped both arms around his neck.

“So I guess you owe me one then, huh? I brought you back a drink and everything.”

-----

You picked up on his almost inaudible laugh even through the modulator. Sure, you’d had a few drinks. You had been a little past the point of tipsy as you neared the Crest, but you were coming to your senses now. Were you over-exaggerating your state of mind? Most indefinitely. You couldn’t help it, though. The last 3 weeks had been an absolute shit-show.

You were fine until the end of the first week, then you started to get worried. The thought of him kept you up at night, so you told yourself that there was no way you could have possibly missed him. You only cared because this was your wellbeing now. I mean, before you got this position you spent every minute alone, too. This wasn’t any different.

Except that it was. And you hated that it was. This was just supposed to be another job. Somehow this man in a metal suit had weaseled his way into a soft spot in your heart.

He’d been so patient. Sure, you knew how to fly a ship, and you’re not clueless when it comes to mechanics, but this ship was unlike anything you’d seen before. So he taught you.

When he came back bloodied and bruised, he’d explain exactly what he needed you to do. In one instance he had gently guided your hand, slowly realizing he didn’t have to patch himself up anymore. Maybe he liked having you there. It was impossible to tell; maker, the few times you’d tried small talk it seemed to push him away even further.

But you didn’t want him further away.

You wanted him right here.

Figured that one out week two.

Week three the kid decided you didn’t need sleep. He cried and whined until you hung up that makeshift strand of lights. Then he sat and stared up at them like they were the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. So you made more things to pass the time. And more. And more.

You don’t even remember finally falling asleep, so waking up in the cot was a surprise. You slipped out of bed to figure out what was going on but stopped dead in your tracks when you heard him laugh.

The hatch to the cockpit was open, and from the low angle, you could just barely see the child sitting on the Mandalorian’s lap.

“It looks cute on you, kid.” The baby giggled and reached out for his arms. The wire crown was sitting on his head again. “How does mine look?”

The crown you barely remembered making for him during the third-week fever dream was clearly resting on his head, atop the helmet and all. The baby cooed.

When you landed he practically announced that the day was yours and you were free to go off and enjoy yourself. You thought about asking him to tag along but worried it’d be overstepping. Maker, the man had to have been just as, or even more, exhausted as you. Your pity didn’t run too deep, though. You knew it was selfish, but you hoped that maybe he’d want to be with you.

You tried your hardest to not seem disappointed when you turned to see him still in the hull as you strode down the gangway. You walked to clear your mind before popping into a cantina, which ended up being the center of life, and finding peace with the bottle.

The buzz had almost completely worn off by now, and you were back. And he was back. And he was holding you like he couldn’t risk letting you go.

-----

He looked down at her and let out a sigh. “Next time, sweet girl. We need to get you to bed before you’re out on the floor.”

Her face flushed pink at the sound of his words. Stars, at least he hoped that was why. He could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes asking, ‘sweet girl? When did you get so soft on me?’

She pushed up on her toes, flattening her body completely against his. Her arms were still around his neck, and he carefully brought his hands together behind her waist. Had he not been wearing the kriffing helmet he would have been able to feel her breath against his neck as she nestled herself impossibly closer.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered.

He gave a curt nod, his body stiff and tense under her.

“I wanted to leave the second after it started,” Her voice dropped even lower and her eyes fluttered shut, “... figured it’d be more fun here with you.”

His heart stilled as he realized her invisible beskar helmet had been lifted. He hoped it fell from her shoulders and rolled down the ramp, was lost in the night, maybe even stolen by scavengers, never to be seen between the two of them again.

She could feel his grip on her back tighten as his head relaxed onto her shoulder.

“Tomorrow night we’ll stay in,” his voice was just loud enough to pass through the modulator.

A smile crept across her face, “I’ll hold you to it, Mando.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

“I know.”

205 notes · View notes

whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 3 years

Text

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

#ultimate note #whomst #wu xie #dmbj #the lost tomb #pingxie #iron triangle

36 notes · View notes

flying-nightwing · 3 years

Text

Throne of Blood (3/3)

Hello there! Last part of Throne of Blood, I hope you appreciated this little serie! I loved t write it tbh, it was a nice change from the usual DC stuff I write. If you want a bonus chapter, let me know! I thought about doing either a prequel for when they invaded the castle, or some headcanons if y’all have some.

Ps: I realised I kinda made Bruce to be the bad guy here, oops. Sorry about that, but to my defence, family drama was something I built toward from the beginning 😅 Full disclosure, I have nothing against Bruce and Damian pls don’t come at me

Masterlist in bio / pinned!

Pairing: King!Jason x reader x Roy

Word count: 4414

Warnings: same as the last parts (cautious nsfw) + family drama lmao

"--and the might of the casc… cascade could never compare to the ce… cerul… cerulean of her eyes. She was his hope, the only thing he cherished, none of his posse...ssions could ever be worth as much as a minute with her"

You paused to breathe as you reached a paragraph break. You could feel Roy's relaxed stare on you, a small smile ever present on his lips. His hand was absentmindedly rubbing your knees that were lying over his thigh, while his other arm was snugly wrapped around your waist. The quiet crackling of the fireplace indicated the need to add a log, but neither of you wanted to move from your nestled position. Eventually one would have to, though, before the room grew cold.

"I like it when you read to me" Roy hummed, almost like he hadn't meant to say it out loud. But if you knew one thing about him, it's that he carried very little shame when it came to love. He would never intend to hide his thoughts when they came, and you admired that about him. Still, you couldn't help but look down in embarrassment.

Him and Jason had taught you to read some months after you joined them, when he passed you a map to find a town's name and you had to tell him you couldn't. Ever since, you worked often on your reading skills, leafing through whatever seemed interesting from Jason's library. But you weren't a natural, far from it.

"I can't even pronounce all the words correctly" You mumbled. "It must be hard to follow sometimes"

He gently pushed your chin up so he could look into your eyes again. It didn't matter for one second for him that you didn't have the diction of an erudit or the flow of a poet. All he wanted was to hear your voice and watch your eyebrows knit in concentration when you butted on a difficult word. He liked the little things so much better than the finished product.

"I think it sounds perfect"

The corner of your lips rose slightly at his praise as your heart skipped a few beats. Even after all the time you spent together, he always managed to find the right word to make you love him even more, if it was possible. His constant and unconditional support was your crutch, the thing you could rely on no matter what happened, the safe space in which you would never feel judged for what you couldn't do.

"You know" He began again when he noticed you had trouble believing what he said. You wanted to believe him, but deep inside he knew it was harder for you, and he understood all too well the feeling of not being enough. "I couldn't read either before I was taken in by my warden"

You tilted your head to the side, frowning slightly. You had never known.

"Took me years to get average at it. And you should have seen my writing-- Hell, you should see it now, it's catastrophic"

You couldn't help but giggle along as he laughed. It was contagious.

"It's the same with Jason--No wait, the brat actually taught himself how to read somehow" He blinked slowly, like he was still surprised by it. You weren't really, you knew Jason was even smarter than you were aware of. Than anyone was aware of. "But his writing was terrible until he got a proper tutor, that I know of for a fact"

"But his writing is so…" You trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Exquisite"

"Now who's pulling out the big words, uh?"

"Shut up" You laughed, lightly hitting his chest with the book. “Don’t mock me”

“I’m not!” He argued, giving you wide, innocent eyes. He looked too cute for his own sake. “I swear I’m not. You’re just adorable when you get all flustered”

“We better start gearing up now” You evaded the subject, clearing your throat. “Jason will be expecting us--”

“Just one more chapter” He interrupted softly, caressing your waist. “Please?”

You held his stare for a moment before you were convinced, and you nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. You opened the book to the page you had marked and found the paragraph you had stopped to.

“As he was sitting by the window, he couldn’t help but think about the ar-arrival of the spring, only a few weeks away if nature de...cided to be kind--”

“My Lord, my Lady”

You paused your reading and looked up. This time, it was Roy who looked the most annoyed of the two of you.

“It’s time”

You sighed and nodded, putting down the book on the table. Roy was clearly disappointed, but he helped you nevertheless get back on your feet, being careful not to pull on your bandages too much. You were healing well for your condition, you could now walk around and sit down without much help. Still, Roy and Jason didn’t like the idea of leaving you on your own for too long, just in case someone tried to come for you. You definitely couldn’t wield your axes just yet, so it made you an easy target even if you weren’t bed ridden anymore.

You walked out of the chamber beside Roy, him following your slower pace without complaint. You reached the other end of the hallways and entered another room with chests and racks, where your equipment was kept. You began putting on your suit, the one you had made when you rode beside the Red Hood, well before he was king. It was all black with a red pointed arch on the chest that imitated Jason’s sigil, which was outlined with a single silver following your collarbone. It rose up the back of your neck and was reinforced to protect your vitals.

“Could you help me pull it up, please?”

Roy nodded as he finished to lace his arm braces, stepping right behind you. He picked the stiff fabric and gently tugged it over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin along the way. He was even more careful with your injured shoulder, making sure it wasn’t bent in any way to fit through the suit. He and Jason had advised against you wearing it, but you were stubborn and refused to show weakness in front of the enemy. Besides, it looked great on you. Roy then buttoned up the suit on your back and up your neck before giving you a kiss on the temple.

“Close your eyes, I’ve got a little something for you” He whispered in your eyes, and despite your initial confusion, you did as you were told and shut your eyes. You felt something being passed over your head and gently rest on your shoulders, then straps being adjusted on your sides. “You can open the now”

You did as he said and looked down as he gently directed you to the mirror on your left. He had placed a beautiful piece of equipment that paired well with the colors of your suit, lightweight and practical, that covered your shoulders front and back. You usually went without, but it was appropriate considering another arrow in the back would do you no good right now. And since you most probably wouldn’t be using your axes anyway, you could do without your full shoulder movements range.

“Where did you get this?” You asked as you trailed your finger on the skillfully crafted metal. There was no doubt it had been made for you by how it fit with both your body and suit. It must have cost a fortune.

“The blacksmith in town, the one living near the gates of the castle” He began. “His son was killed by the guild of thieves that lived uptown, the ones we wiped off right after the undertaking. He wanted to thank us somehow, and when he learned about what happened to you, he made this as a present”

“It’s… Very beautiful” You breathed out. “I’ll have to thank him later on. This must have taken so much time to make”

“But you deserve it” He said as he placed a light kiss on your jaw. “You deserve the best. And the best suits you”

“Thank you” You nodded, taking his hand. The leather of his archery glove was rough against your skin, but it had also become a comfort born from the endless days you spent training and hunting on the road. It was tied to some of your best memories with him, and it still amazed you how a simple touch could bring it all back vividly like that. “Come on, Jason must be waiting for us”

You went down to the court, where Jason was talking with the commander and some generals. Upon hearing your footsteps, he perked up and turned around, taking you specifically in. He smiled and nodded, heading for the three black steeds, groomed and in full armor, in the hands of the stable hands. You followed him and grabbed the reins of your mount, carefully climbing on its back and sitting in the saddle.

“Are we ready?” Jason asked.

“Of course” Roy replied first, then both of their eyes set on you.

“Let’s do this” You nodded firmly.

With a kick of your heels, you took off the court and onto the bridge, in the direction of the Wayne Kingdom.

---

“Soooooo…” Roy trailed off. “Do you think he stood us up or..?”

You looked away from the horizon and to Roy, who was slouched over the pommel of the saddle while his horse was trying to dig for grass through the snow. “Maybe he’s trying to ambush us”

“I don’t think so” Jason mumbled, his eyes still set northwest. His back was straight with a hand resting on his hips, the other holding the reins tight. His horse was attentive, chewing on its bit in anticipation. “It wouldn’t be like him, not while we’re on this hill anyway”

You nodded as your fingers flexed around the reins, a bit bored and definitely not impressed by the opposite party being late to their own meeting. There was barely any wind over the field, and the thick cover of the cloud didn’t let the sun rays through. Still, smoke came out of the horses’ nostrils with every breath they let out.

“There they come”

You glanced forward again at Jason’s warning, seeing a small party of riders coming your way. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry, walking rather than trying to reach you at a trot. The closer they came, the better you could point out characteristics for each rider. The one at the front was wearing all black with a cape that fell over the pale gray horse he was riding. It was almost white, but the dark skin around its eyes and nose proved differently. The second rider was on a smaller chestnut horse, and was a child. You blinked a few times, but his youthful features were obvious. The two other riders some paces behind were an escort, soldiers with steel armors and banners from their kingdom.

After a long waiting for them to actually be at hearing range, they finally stopped a few meters ahead and assessed your party. Jason was visibly tense, but his blue eyes gave nothing out on how he was feeling about seeing his father in front of him after all this time. They stared at each other for long minutes before the piercing glance of Bruce Wayne set on you. You clenched your jaw, not backing down, until his eyes finally left you.

“Your… Friend seems to have healed quite well” The older king spoke first.

“Don’t act like you give a fuck” Jason sneered. “You were the one who made this coward attack on her happen in the first place”

“Watch your mouth, runt” The child on the side almost barked. “You’re speaking to a legitimate King, unlike you”

“And who the fuck might this goblin be?” Roy said before he could stop himself. While the child looked appalled, Roy was still very relaxed on his horse. He might have been the only one to be, even if you did want to laugh at the outburst.

“I am the blood son, the true heir to the throne” He replied with all his might, except it didn’t quite have the desired effect, since he was on a pony, for one. “You peasant will respect me, or--”

“Damian, please” Bruce interrupted firmly. “Now is not the time to settle this”

“But--”

“Why am I not surprised that you fathered a brat?” Jason leaned forward, feeling taunting for a moment. “Which one of your concubines had enough bad luck to get pregnant? Selina? Or was it Richard’s lover, whatever was her name? Or maybe Talia, oh memorable Talia--”

“Don’t speak of my mother that way” Damian pulled his sword out.

“So Talia it is” He smirked.

“We are here to negotiate peace, not fuel a war” Bruce replied sternly. “I can do much worse than an arrow in the shoulder of a loved one, you know it. So be careful what you’re advancing about my family”

“Then keep your son on a tighter leash” Jason said, his face returning to a serious expression. “I still haven’t made my mind about keeping peace, don’t give me reasons to leave this meeting before we can discuss it”

“I should be telling you this” He squinted his eyes slightly. “You have thrown over a stable ally of this kingdom and stole the crown, then taken prisoner the King of Blüdhaven without giving a follow up on his state. You are in no place to threaten a war, yet here you are”

Jason waited a few seconds, not letting his stare waver. Then, he sighed and whistled. The plains were silent, until the faint sound of hooves cantering on the crisp snow grew closer to your position. Soon enough, you were passed on your left by another rider, slowly walking around you and toward Bruce’s party. Dick had a neutral expression as he turned around, stopping at Bruce’s side.

“Here” Jason waved his hand dismissively. “Your golden son, unharmed albeit slightly vexed”

“You should still pay for a crime like this” Bruce said.

“It’s fine” Dick tried to appease the tensions. “I do not wish to further this conflict, I have done enough already as it is”

“Why didn’t you fight back, Richard?” Damian asked in a judging and accusatory tone. “This is a disgrace to our family, and a display of weakness--”

“I was trying to avoid a much worse escalation of this conflict by owning a diplomatic mistake I made in the first place” He bit back. “What would you even know of politics, spoiled child?”

Roy laughed, and the sound only seemed to anger Damian more. You were in the middle of a family conflict, and unlike him, you didn’t know this side of the family well. You didn’t really know how to act, so you observed what would go down rather than actively participate.

“I find the ginger man’s insolence unwelcomed in this matter” Damian said, trying to wash down the humiliation his brother had just handed to him. “He’s got nothing to do with it, and he’s got no title. He shouldn’t even be speaking”

“He speaks because I say he can” Jason defended Roy in a heartbeat, his tone strong and authoritative. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve got a crown and you don’t, which puts me above you in status and therefore my wishes outweigh yours”

Your eyebrow rose slowly as your eyes met Roy’s, who had an equally stunned expression. Jason had never used his status against anyone like that. It even seemed to take Damian by surprise, which was, with what you had learned about him in the last minutes, a hard feat to accomplish. If you were honest with yourself, while you loved Jason as a humble king, you were curious about the other side of him, even if he would show it in private.

“Your crown was stolen” Bruce reassessed. “The Kingdoms surrounding yours have decided this gesture would not stand. I wished a peaceful surrender from you, but it doesn’t seem like I will convince you to do so. You have three days to abdicate, until the next full moon, or your kingdom will be taken back by force”

“You think this is wise?” You finally spoke up on instinct, and all eyes turned to you, looking at you with surprise. You weren’t about to let those threats stand, especially not from Bruce. “Ever since King Jason came into power, he wiped out a guild that stole from families and murdered good people. Our kingdom is the safest for miles around, so much we get waves of new settlers even in winter. He lowered taxes on the population so much that most towns in the country have become flourishing trade posts in the span of a year, and instead taxed the nobility and cut on useless balls and dinners. Nobody starved last winter, and nobody is starving this one. Do you think the word didn’t get out to the other countries around? People are starting to want this for themselves too, and you think putting them through a devastating war will make things better? It will only make them resent you, those who didn’t already. We have people in every castle you know of who are ready to turn against you the second they get wind of aggression--”

“Bullshit” Damian called.

“Are you ready to take the risk?” You raised an eyebrow at him, before returning your glance to Bruce, who betrayed no emotion. “You will lose this war if you start it. You should consider your people before you send them to slaughter”

Silence fell over the hill for a moment.

“... What she said” Roy grinned, breaking the silence.

Bruce looked at Jason for a reaction, or most likely, some sort of opposition to what you had just said. Instead, he only readjusted his reins and straightened his back. “You heard right,” He said, not wavering. “You have three days, until the next moon, to annulate the warrants and back down. Think about your people, Bruce. Make the right decision”

With that mocking reprise of his father’s previous words, he turned his horse around and left him dumbfounded. With one last glance to their party, you followed Jason, trotting, then cantering away and back into your borders. Once you passed your soldiers’ road control, you slowed down to a walk.

“Huh” Roy exhaled as he leaned forward to glance at you over Jason’s horse between you two. “I didn’t know we had spies in other kingdoms”

“Now that I think about it,” Jason blinked a few times, his brows slightly furrowed. “Neither did I”

You shrugged. “Maybe we have them. That would be neat”

You saw confusion, then astonishment flash in their eyes like their reactions were synchronized.

“Wait, did you just--”

“Did you fucking lie to Bruce in his face?” Roy cut off, almost yelling. Then, he laughed. “In his face?”

“By the time he realizes, no, if he even realizes I bluffed, we’ll have a solid plan to ward him off, no matter what he does” You explained. “We win”

“How did you manage to convince him?” Jason had an innocent incomprehension written all over his features, like a child in front of a magic trick. He was adorable. “You had me convinced”

“Oh, boys” You grinned. “You think women survive this long in the world without becoming excellent liars? How do you think I managed to infiltrate the staff for a week before we invaded the castle?”

“By… Um” Roy trailed off. “Cleaning well?”

You laughed. “People had questions, my dear. I had to build myself a credible life to feed them, so I wasn’t thrown out of the castle instantly. Lying to the enemy is a skill I learned to cultivate a long time ago”

“You’re awesome, you know that?” He sighed, a loopy smile on his face. Jason still had a starstruck expression on his face, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Wouldn’t hurt to hear it again, I must admit” You teased back, jutting your chin up. “But there is one thing that would be better… Last one in the bedroom owes the first one a shoulder massage”

You didn’t wait for them to register your words before kicking your horse to a gallop, no doubt closely followed by them.

---

The dancing light of the candles of the chandelier left a soft glow on your naked skin, moving around and spreading warmth as it crawled up and down your body. You were sitting upright as hands moved gently on your shoulders, careful to avoid the sensitive area of your still healing wound. In your laps was Jason’s head, your hands threading slowly in his black hair as his eyes were shut close. He wasn’t sleeping, his breathing made his chest rise too fast for him to be. But he was relaxed, his neck muscles were untensed on your legs and there were no harsh lines on his face.

You looked behind you when Roy’s hand stopped massaging, pulling your hair to the side and kissing the back of your neck.

“You really gotta get a faster horse” Your lips curved upwards. “You’re always losing these races”

“I think my horse’s speed is just fine” He whispered back. “Besides, you are both right where I want you to be”

Jason smirked. “Losing is always suddenly part of someone’s plan when they never win”

“Laugh all you want” He sighed, dramatically laying down on his side beside you, then leaning forward close to Jason’s ear. “We all know I end up winning anyway when you beg my name like a prayer, My King”

You could feel the shiver travel up his spine on your laps, as well as the sudden shift in the tension in his muscles. You played along and let your hand slightly pull his hair, which surprised a moan out of him. His eyes opened wide, the blue of his irises being quickly consummated by the black of his pupils. Then, his glance set on Roy, something hard to read beside the promising spark in it.

“Are you sure you’re ready for a, what, fourth go at it today?” He raised an eyebrow as his hand brushed his cheek. “I didn’t think you jaw recovered from earlier”

You laughed airily as Roy grinned mischievously. “Maybe you can take that voice when you put that brat child in its place” You suggested as you trailed up your hand up Jason’s bare chest. “I’m sure he would be happy to get back on his knees if you did”

Roy groaned at the suggestion, already imagining the whole scene behind his fluttering eyelids. However, Jason didn’t quite follow up on his reaction. “Don’t tempt me with…” He trailed off, then noticed the mood change. “Hey, is there something wrong?”

Jason blinked, then shook his head and gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine” He muttered, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Roy’s lips.

“No, something’s bothering you” He insisted gently. “What is it, Jay?”

Jason sighed, shaking his head. “It’s nothing” He replied, looking up to the ceiling. “Don’t worry about it”

“It’s clearly not nothing” You said as your hands threaded softly in his hair. “What’s eating at you?”

A silence followed your words. It was like Jason was searching for the right words, like he wanted to say it so bad but something else was holding him back. You were patient, however, and you didn’t mind that he took his time to tell you. You knew he would talk when he’s ready.

“It’s what Bruce said” Roy beat him to it, speaking barely over a whisper. “Isn’t it?”

You looked in between the two men, noticing how Jason did not deny Roy’s words. It was like they were having a silent conversation for a few seconds, before Roy put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s how he didn’t see him as part of his family anymore” Roy spoke up, addressing you this time. “How Bruce didn’t seem to have any regret about replacing him in any way possible”

“Even after all this time” Jason gulped. “He won’t even stop reminding me he didn't care”

“Oh, my love” You reached for his hand and grabbed it, intertwining your fingers with his and giving it a squeeze. “He doesn’t deserve you beating yourself up about him like that. You’re worth so much more than anything he could even give you”

“She’s right,” Roy nodded. “We’re your family now, not him. Not him ever again. And I promise you we’ll never betray you that way, we’ll never set you aside. You’re our lover, you’re our King, you’re the most important person for us, and we would do anything for you”

You could see the crystal gleam of tears pooling in his eyes before he blinked them away, resisting the urge to break down. Jason had not often known true affection until he met Roy, then you. He felt like he didn’t deserve either of you, and sometimes he wondered why exactly you decided everyday to stay by his side. But you did stay, you did support him and guided him when he needed it. He wouldn’t have been anywhere near where he was right now without you.

“You’re both so good to me” He whispered, adoration clear in his voice as he glanced at you, then Roy. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d be wonderful either way” You smiled as you slipped beside him, careful not to pull on your bandages. Soon enough, Roy joined him on the other side, snuggling into him. “You’d miss on major cuddling, however”

His chest rose in a silent chuckle as he pulled you and Roy just a little bit closer. “Give yourselves more credit, I’d crash and burn without you both by my side”

“Let’s not bother with what ifs, yeah?” Roy replied, his lips curved upward as he kissed his shoulder. “It only matters that you’re here with us today, and that you are a damn good King. The rest doesn’t matter”

“The rest doesn’t matter” Jason repeated in a mutter, nodding lightly. “Only you. Only us”

155 notes · View notes

bangteamhyuk · 3 years

Text

Moving On

Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Angst, Producer! Min Yoongi

Warning: mentions of sex, angst, contains heavy argument (One Shot)

Word count: 3,850k

Synopsis: You went back with Yoongi to your old apartment before moving on to the next. While cleaning, fixing, and rummaging all of the things inside, you two began to reminisce your life when you were still building your dreams together. Until he saw his old broken piano, then reality hits the two of you.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” you tried to catch your breath after rushing on to the stairs. Three floors were pretty tough for someone bringing cleaning tools, while hoping not to disappoint the person who was waiting for you for half an hour on the other end.

Yoongi turned around and crouched down a bit to see if you are fine “It’s okay. I’m sure you have reasons” He took the broomstick from your hand and put it together with the big vacuum cleaner he was holding. He paused for a moment and smiled at the sight of a white but clear oval diamond ring you were wearing. Your engagement rings.

You quickly blushed and turned away, flustered at the sight of Yoongi smiling at you. “Bunch of Min residents. Still cracks me up” you chuckled at the stick figure faces of you and Yoongi looking mean as the welcome door mat.

“Yeah, you thought of that” he pulled out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“But you were the one who drew those faces, Yoongi Matisse” you remarked as you fixed your hair. He scoffed as he put on his hairband.

“Ready to clean our stuff?” he asked. You nodded.

Yoongi went inside first and opened the curtain from the window on the front, giving light inside the studio apartment that were filled with dusts and memories. You followed. You turned around to see cobwebs around the table occupied with pictures, knick-knacks from all the travel you two had been, and even crumpled grocery receipts hidden on the side.

“5 good years huh?” you spoke, brushing your finger on the table to see how much dirt occurred over the years.

“Uhuh, 5 good years, and now we’re ready to move out Y/N” he replied.

“Look if we put the couch on the center, our visitor might think we’re bunch of couch potatoes. First impression last babe” you reasoned, as you sat beside Yoongi on the bare wooden floor of the room.

He shook his head “Y/N, I’m just saying that we needed to be reminded that it’s okay to rest once we get home, that’s why I was thinking that the couch should be there. Besides are we really going to admit and entertain guess here?” he gave you one tough argument that was hard not to consider.

“Ok fine, but what if I’m feeling a little frisky and want to do it while we watch TV? And then a burglar came from the door, right?” you turn to look at him with conviction in your eyes then continued “All I’m trying to say is that, putting it on the center have its disadvantage. Would you want your dick to be seen by a stranger, worse to a voyeur burglar?” you raised your arms and pointed it with your open palms at a non-existent couch against the other side of the empty room.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth in disgust “I can’t believe hearing this poor argument just to convince me in putting…” he paused then sighed “Fine, let’s put the TV and couch on the right side and the dinner table at the center” he conceded.

“Happy girlfriend equals happy life” you smiled at your victory. Yoongi turned to you and smiled dryly. You chuckled.

“We’re going to build our dreams here…” he spoke softly while staring at the open window in the midst of vacant space between the two of you. You stared at him and lingered for a moment.

“Yes, we will” you smiled, as you turned to stare at the open window as well, filling the bareness of the room with all your hopes and dreams together, as you closed your eyes.

“Achoo!” you sneezed as you open your eyes again, while patting the dusted couch and pulling the cushion seats out. Yoongi was mopping the hardwood floor, while you on the other hand was preparing to vacuum the old couch. Suddenly you saw something, you didn’t expect.

“Ugh Yoongi!” you burst into laughter. “What?” Yoongi quickly went towards you on the old couch as you pulled out something hidden underneath the seat.

“Your dried out condom! Ugh, gross!” you exclaimed as he grinned showing you his gummy smile that you love so dearly “I told you to put them to the trash, every time! Ugh! Good thing I found it before we sell these…” your face turned sour as you held on its tip and quickly tossed it on to the trash bin. “You know what, I think we should hand them over to the cleaners first before selling them. It’s been unused for 2 years…”

“You know for 5 years since we planned to put furniture on our place, I just realized we had a really great time with that couch” he stressed the world ‘really’ which made you blushed immediately, and well a bit annoyed at the same time. “Not once did we had any visitor, not even that voyeur burglar you were talking about” he raised one of his eye brow and smirked.

You quickly pulled out the dusted pillow and threw at him. “What? I’m just saying it wouldn’t matter if we put it on the center or not.” he laughed.

“Okay, Nostradamus. Let’s get back to business. I have book signing to attend to later” you turned your back to continue cleaning the couch while you heard him chuckle once more and resumed to mop the floor.

“What’s this surprise?” you tried to reach out for something, while Yoongi was making sure you can’t see anything through the blindfold.

“Take another two steps to the front. Here. Great. Now! The big reveal!” he slowly opened the blindfold as he showed you his D-I-Y wooden desk situated beside the apartment’s lone window.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” You gasped. “You made these? Even the succulents on the desk?” you hurriedly went to your new work desk and examined everything over and underneath it. You opened one of the drawers and saw a 20-dollar cat design fountain pen you’ve been eyeing for weeks in the department store “Yoongi, thank you!” you held it to your chest.

“Well, I did the wood work but not the succulents. I just..” he scratched the back of his neck. “add that for a little touch, you know, something to ease your stress when writing stories”

You quickly ran up to him for a kiss. “Yoongi, thank you! I love it! I love you!” he grinned.

“Can you kiss me again? Maybe deepen it?” you obliged, but parted for a second. “But if my work space is on the window then… where is yours?” you asked.

He shrugs. “I can stay at our bed. I mean, I’m sure you don’t make much sound when your busy so it’s okay. I just needed a laptop and my guitar to make music” you smiled weakly. “It’s really okay babe, it’s a win-win situation. Look at this way, if you put my workspace near the window, I might include unnecessary noise from the outside. This is great!” he hugged you tight, assuring you that all is well.

“We’ll make our dreams happen in this apartment, you and I” he kissed your forehead, reminding you that you are not alone in this city trying to make it big one day. “I’m here for you always Y/N”

“I’ll always be here for you too Yoongi. We will definitely make it happen” you closed your eyes, and rest your head on his chest. You two stayed like that for a while.

“How much do you think this desk would cost?” you tap the pen on your cheek.

“I deserve a $200 for this!” he pointed at the desk. “It took me a day to figure out how to assemble everything, and I had to scratch each side with a small sandpaper for an hour Y/N! An hour! Just so you wouldn’t get hurt over its sharp edges. So yes, I demand a $200 refund for this!” he raised his eyebrow to show you how much he protests at the thought of not being able to find a just compensation for his hard work.

“But Yoongi, it’s been used for over 3 years and unused for over 2, so expect it has some scratches around and the faint smell of old wood, so $100?” you examined the whole piece, while waiting for Yoongi to agree

He closed his eyes and shook his head “175!”

“150? Last price” you faced him.

“Fine. 150” he sighed, finally agreeing to the unjust price. You then wrote the price on the note pad.

Yoongi crouched down and rummaged through the piles of things on the floor, left untouched for 2 years and saw something familiar.

“Yoongi, what if we include the chair and then we can ask for $200 deal—” you stopped midway as you saw Yoongi pulled out his electric piano, all broken.

“Open the box babe!” you watched him open the huge ribbon and tore out the wrapper on the floor. You went to the table and refilled two glasses with cheap wine.

“Oh babe, you don’t have to” he gently pulled the brand new portable electric piano from the box.

“Happy 3rd anniversary!” you handed over his share of wine. As he pulled you down to where he sat, and you fell on his lap. “Oops, careful the wine might---” He didn’t even let you finish when he kissed you hard just to show you how grateful he was for the gift.

“Mmm…” you chuckled as you parted from the kiss and turn to the piano. You brushed your fingertips at the piano keys and smile “The greatest song of all time will be made here, in this piano. I’m claiming it!”

He hugged you tight as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I definitely will. I love you so much!”

“You know, we can still have that fixed and sell it for…”

“No!” he exclaimed sternly. “I’ll keep it” he looked down; a bit embarrassed at his quick reaction.

You looked away, unsure what to say. You thought it was useless to keep something old and broken, but you guess it’s better that way. To let him keep a piece of you, the old you that he once knew.

“Congratulation’s Min Yoongi!” you popped the party pooper from the front door surprising Yoongi.

“Didn’t you see the live steam? The song I produced didn’t won” he closed the door and tossed the key to table.

“Doesn’t matter, the real winner is at home now! Yay!” you blew the party horn from his side, playfully tickling his ears. He brushed it down and pulled himself away, clearly annoyed.

You followed him still “It was great! The KMA failed to recognize it this year, who knows the next song you produ--- ”

“I don’t care about next year, or the next, and the next after that! It’s been 3 years, Y/N. 3 years since we’ve moved here and where has it gotten us? Nowhere!” he snapped.

You opened your mouth but quickly withdrew as you knew that saying anything further might make him more upset. “Baby, I…” you pulled him for a hug and gently stroke his back. “I understand how frustrated you are…” he shook his head and gently stepped away.

“No, you don’t. It’s easy for you to say, having a stable office job while you write as a hobby. But I only know how to produce music, it’s the only job I know! You don’t get to know, because you don’t have to rely for an award to know how good or shitty your stories are!” he snapped in anger.

You bit your lips and tried to process the situation, hoping you’ll say something to make him feel okay “Yoongi, I’m sorry that I don’t get to know that, but you know that I didn’t have much choice, but if I could I wanted to write full-time and you know that… We needed something on our table and---”

“So, it’s my fault now? That doing pizza delivery as part-time is not enough?” he didn’t even let you finished.

“I’m not saying that!” you finally cried, as you wiped your eyes with the back of your hands in frustration.

“Well then, tell me what? Because I find it hard to convince myself that it is not what you meant” he gave a sarcastic chuckle.

“Yoongi, why are we doing this? I’m just trying to help. Didn’t you say we’re going to make our dreams come true in this city, in this place, together!?”

“Well, you’re not helping, and clearly it isn’t happening.” He looked away as he took the opened bottle of wine you left on the table and chugged on it.

You looked to the ceiling and let out a long sigh “You know, I tried. For 3 years…” you nodded to yourself as you stared at the ceiling for a moment then at Yoongi. “I’ve seen you struggled. I’ve seen you succeed. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst. I saw you strive hard than anyone can in making songs, several of it! It was great, and I’m not just saying it because you’re my boyfriend but because I believe in you Yoongi. I believe in you, because I love you. I trust you no matter what, I trust that you’ll make it happen… Make US happen!” you paused.

“…But the way that’s been going lately? The way you pushed me aside, not wanting to talk things over. Having more arguments with you each day. Aren’t you tired? Instead of growing together, we’re just…growing apart!” you continued, shutting your eyes to the cold reality. You took a deep breath and pulled a glass from the kitchen sink and filled it water. You drank a glass full of it, hoping it’ll drown down the pain. He fell silent.

“You know what? Let’s…” you sighed at the thought “Break-up” you took your spare key and your bag hanging from the wall.

“Fine, leave!” he hit something aimlessly and heard a shriek of mismatched melody from the electric piano. You turned your back to see it, the electric piano you bought for him, broken and damaged. Like the way you and Yoongi are…

Silence.

You cleared your throat and began writing notes on your pad.

“When’s the wedding?” he turned to you while you sat a far from him.

“Next year, June 1st” you replied softly, resisting to look his way.

“Park Jimin’s a good guy…” he smiled weakly.

“He is.” You nodded. Then silence.

The only thing that broke the monotony of stillness between you and Yoongi within those four walls, was the sudden sound of a person knocking on the door from the other side. Yoongi slowly stood up, and went to the door to open and see who it was.

“Well, speak of the devil” he bit his lip and smiled at him. He wasn’t bitter or anything, in fact his smile was sincere after seeing what was in front of him, a genuine smile from you upon seeing the person you love, even if it was not him any longer.

He thought how bittersweet it was, to be someone looking through a window from the outside looking in, because he once knew what it feels like to be the source of your happiness. That smile he vividly recalls, even when he closed his eyes. Every outline, every mole, everything about you, he commits to memory even now that you’re gone.

“Are you ready for your book signing love?” Jimin chuckled.

“Did you get me food on the way?” you narrowed your prying eyes towards Jimin

He nodded “Cheeseburger with double patties, no onions but with extra pickles” he tilts his head to have you scoot over to his side.

You grinned, as you took your purse and ran towards Jimin. “See you tomorrow then? For the contract signing with Mrs. Song?” you turned your back to remind Yoongi.

Yoongi nods. “This apartment is already sold, so we just need our signatures to seal all deals”

“Mm, well, thanks. Congratulations by the way for winning KMA and MAMA for 2 consecutive years” you smiled.

“Well, the performer has a big participation to it too” he turned towards Jimin, as he shyly smiled and shook his head. “Hyung, really it’s the best music of all time!”

He raised his shoulder and looked at the dusted piano left on the floor “Not nearly, no…”

“Guess we’ll see each other around?” Jimin smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Yeah, see you” Yoongi smiled and watched you two leave.

Jimin helped you with your seatbelt as he pulled out something from the backseat.

“Iced Café Latte with grainy sugar for my beloved fiancé” he handed out

“How come you always knew the perfect time I want my coffee?” he shrugs.

“I’ve gotten some information” he winks at you and started the engine.

“Hyung, there you are. I’ve been looking for you” Jimin sat beside Yoongi under a cherry blossom outside their music studio office.

“It’s break time and it’s spring, when can I have my peace?” he turned away, looking annoyed.

“Well, I’ve been thinking if we can add more lyrics to this verse? And…” Yoongi’s phone suddenly rang to notify a text, as Jimin’s eyes widened when he saw his phone glow, displaying a photo of you that Yoongi took when you two were still together. “You know Y/N?”

“Yeah, why?” Yoongi tilt his head, clearly confused as to why Jimin knew who you are.

“But he’s my girlfriend, hyung!” he stood up, almost as if ready to fight.

“Well, um, this awkward” he squint his eyes, unbothered at Jimin’s reaction “I didn’t know really that you are…” he opened his mouth then withdrew, finding words how to explain the situation “I don’t know how to say this to you but, he’s my ex”

The two of them, chatted for a while, agreeing on things that annoys Jimin and the things you used to annoy Yoongi.

“Do you still love her?” Jimin turned to Yoongi, his face sullen, hoping that he would like to hear Yoongi’s answer from his query.

He breathed hard “You know kid, you’ll never stop loving a person even if they’re gone. Even if you were left by time, leaving you to oblivion, making you a faint memory from that person. You just don’t” he took his coffee from the vending machine that was sitting on his side and drank before he continued.

“But that doesn’t mean you want that person to be there for you forever. Knowing that she’s happy, well even more happy without me by his side, that’s more than enough. Isn’t that what love is supposed to be? Even when it doesn’t feel like romance, it changes into something, something that transcends beyond it. I can’t explain kid, but you’ll understand it someday” he turned to Jimin, hoping he didn’t touch a nerve that would make him angry.

“I really love her, hyung. My manager’s pretty upset about this whole relationship situation but I couldn’t care anymore. If they find out about us or not, I don’t care! I’d rather admit the truth than deny and hurt her, she doesn’t deserve that. I just, I feel like she’s the one even when she’s moody and all” Jimin shyly confessed.

Yoongi nods “Jimin, you should know several things so you could avoid argument with Y/N. First, of all never underestimate her love for coffee. Never.” He straightened his palm to emphasize his statement.

“She loves coffee first thing in the morning, do not talk to her without her having a coffee yet, under any circumstance. Well, unless you don’t want a great day ahead of you, you could, but I do not recommend it all. Speaking of coffee, she would want one after having a stressful day or any stressful situation she was in. But this is important, take note, she likes sweet coffee and bitter ones on the morning.”

Jimin listened to him attentively as Yoongi continued “If she writes story, she’ll want you to read it from start to end. Do it and be honest, she hates mediocre comments so you have to be tedious about reading it. She loves it when you ask, so that’s a tip. If you fail to read everything, you can ask her. Oh, but be careful about your questions, because she’ll know when you didn’t read it all and she’ll be really upset”

Yoongi chuckled upon remembering how you love to eat unlimited BBQs “She also loves meat, like seriously a lot! So treat her to BBQs every often or else she’ll get moody for a month. She’s a heavy drinker too, so ready your liver and try to keep up with her. And lastly, never end the day without telling her how you truly feel, she’ll appreciate it, whatever it is that’s on your mind tell her. I can see the way she looks at you in that picture” he peered through Jimin’s phone on the side which was glowing due to several notifications “because that was how she used to look at me too. I bet she’ll understand you. She now loves you Jimin.”

It was already night time when Yoongi finished cleaning the room and putting everything that you two wanted to sell inside a big box. Yoongi looks at the broken piano and stared at it for a moment “I guess the greatest song of all time were never made” he stood up, picked it up and took it with him, as walked towards the door way.

He looked at the empty room, one last time “This place still smells like us, let’s not forget this scent wherever we are” he spoke softly to himself and turned the lights off.

He closed the door and saw the doormat again.

“Bunch of Min residents” you drew on the doormat. He chuckled “That’s pretty witty, wait let me add a little touch” he took the marker from you and drew your faces which made you two laughed even harder.

“This is a masterpiece! We need everyone to see this!” you quickly went to the door and put it on the entryway.

Yoongi smiled as he watched you from the couch and sighed at the thought of wanting to be with you forever. He just knew from that moment on you were the one.

He rolled the mat from the floor and tossed it to the nearest trash bin.

He knew it was too late for regrets, but at the same time he knew it was for the better. Whatever happened in the past brought you two to where you are all supposed to be now: Happy, contented but apart.

All the memories, your hopes and dreams that you two shared together, are now gone. Cleaned to make room for another one.

He looked at the door and smiled weakly “Ijen, Annyeong (Goodbye now)” and left.

Let’s move Goodbye to this place, that we grew attached to Let’s move Now to a higher place While taking the last box out of the empty room I looked back for a moment Times we cried and laughed Goodbye now

Moving On- BTS

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for getting here. Hope you’ll also like the spin-off series for this: Seesaw (Teaser)

79 notes · View notes

honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Proposal Imagines

I’m back on my bullshit! This was supposed to be short, but then it took a week and a half to write and is almost twice as long as my longest one shot. Oops. These should all be gender neutral and I hope you enjoy! I got to explore two characters I don’t write for very often, so I’m super excited to present this. And there are like, three uses of (Y/N).

Total Word Count: 8,096

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Din fiddled with the jewelry, nerves pulling his stomach into complicated knots. He’d been doing research for months, ever since he’d finally felt like it was the right time to get married. Culturally, marriage was like a retirement sentence for Mandalorians, but he didn’t care. He could bend the rules for you.

Finding what to propose with had been hell. In your culture, proposals were done with rings, but in his, you offered your partner your signet if they had none. He had consulted the Armorer, and she had forged him the necklace he was holding now. It was a good compromise between the two customs, they had both decided

It was solid beskar, a loose collar of sorts, ornate and delicate so it didn’t look like you were a slave. Dangling in the center was his mudhorn signet, which would settle between your collarbones.

Shifting in the grass, Din wondered if he’d chosen the wrong spot. But no, the picturesque fields of Sorgan felt right. It was where you’d met, and hopefully, it was where you’d be wed.

“Cyar’ika?” Din said, seeing you come up the ridge. Grogu was with Omera, so this would be a purely uninterrupted moment. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” You said happily, seeing the world glitter below you. “This is amazing Din. Thank you for bringing me.”

Din took a breath. Your back was to him, and he decided to do this before his cowardice took over. “Cyar’ika,” he said. “Do you know how Mandalorians say I love you?”

You turned, confused. “No?”

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” Din was starting to feel nauseous. He really hoped you said yes. “It’s an indirect translation, but it literally means ‘I know you and hold you in my heart forever.’”

“Din,” you said, putting a hand on his pauldron. “What are you saying?”

Din wanted to cry. “I love you,” he said softly. “More than words in any language can describe. I want you here, safe and by my side forever.” He knelt down, pulling out the necklace and watching your eyes go wide. “I know we live dangerous lives. We could die tomorrow, for all we know. But will you honor my wishes today and become my riddur?”

You nodded immediately, tears glittering in your eyes as Din stood and fastened the necklace around your neck. “Din,” you breathed. “Oh Din it’s beautiful.”

“Indestructible too,” Din said, somehow even more nervous for what came next. “I’m unfamiliar with your marriage traditions, but a Mandalorian marriage is very simple.”

You put a hand on the signet charm. “My wedding customs involve a party and a public exchange of vows.”

“We can do it in town, if you want,” Din offered. “I have vows, words that make a marriage official in the eyes of the Maker. But there is a custom of mine that must be done here.”

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

Din put his hands on his helmet, but found that he couldn’t lift it. His arms wouldn’t do it. You, understanding, took a gentle step forward and put your hands overtop his. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

You lifted the helmet slowly, revealing his face inch by precious inch. When it was all exposed, you looked him in the eyes for the first time, taking him in. “Oh Maker,” you breathed. “You- I mean- Your-“ You were clearly at a loss for words. “Brown eyes,” you finally said. “Brown fucking eyes. Din Djarin, you and your eyes will be the death of me.”

Din smiled, and he could’ve sworn he heard you swear under your breath. “I love you.”

You nodded. “Ni- damn, I forget. How do I say it?”

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum Din Djarin.”

Marcus Moreno:

To say Marcus was worried about getting married again would’ve been a gross understatement.

He was downright terrified.

You and him had known each other since high school, and had been together for a few years now. You’d been there when his late wife passed, and now he was hoping to marry you.

He just needed one thing first.

“Missy?”

Missy looked up as Marcus slid into her room, looking as nervous as he felt. “Wow Dad,” she said, turning from her desk. “You look horrible.”

Marcus sat on the edge of Missy’s bed. “Come here. I want to talk to you about something important.”

“Is it (Y/N)?” Missy asked as she sat next to Marcus.

“Yeah,” Marcus said. “I love them very much, and I know nothing will ever replace your mother. But, if you’re comfortable with it, I want to ask (Y/N) to marry me.”

Missy smiled. “Dad, they make you happy,” she said. “You don’t need my permission.”

“I know,” Marcus said, pulling Missy into a hug. “But I want to make sure you’re comfortable with me marrying someone new.”

“Well then,” Missy said. “You have my blessing. On one condition.”

Marcus smiled. “What is it?”

“I get to be a flower girl.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

That night, Marcus sent Missy down the street to a friend’s house for the evening. She wished him good luck before skipping out the door, following her friend to her house.

When you came home from work, Marcus was there to pull you close and kiss you, smiling as you laughed. “Someone’s happy to see me,” you said. “You’re not usually home when I get home.”

“I took off today,” Marcus said. “They kept nagging me to take a break, and Missy has off from school too.”

“Where is the little troublemaker?” You asked, shedding your coat and looking around.

Marcus headed into the kitchen, you following him. “Lucy invited her over for the evening,” he said. “I figured we could finally have some adult time. I made dinner.”

You gasped, seeing the food on the table. “Marcus! You didn’t have to!”

“I don’t mind,” Marcus promised, pulling your chair out. “C’mon, don’t let it get cold.”

While you ate, you talked about all sorts of mundane things. Work was the first, and then you complained about the deer that were somehow getting into the garden. Marcus agreed that that was a problem, but promised he’d look into it.

Finally, he was able to take your empty plate and set it in the sink. “Hey babe,” he said, still standing. “I was thinking earlier today.”

“Oh lord,” he heard you say. “Marcus, what’s going on?”

Marcus fumbled with the ring box as he turned and got on one knee. Everything he’d planned on saying, the speech he’d been reciting in his head all day, it was all gone as soon as he saw your face. All he could muster was a small “please?”

“Marcus,” you said softly. “Oh Marcus. Are you okay?”

In truth, no he wasn’t. But he cleared his throat and finally found the ability to speak. “I know,” he said softly. “I know you said we would never need a ring, but I think the time is right, and I love you more than anything in the world.”

You slid out of your chair and knelt in front of Marcus, so you were on his level. “Marcus,” you said, putting your hands on his face. “Are you ready for this?”

Marcus nodded. “I am,” he promised. “And Missy is too.”

“Then yes,” you said, smiling wide. “I can’t wait to marry you Marcus.”

“And I can’t wait to marry you,” Marcus said, pulling you into a tight hug and cradling you close. “Thank you.”

You laughed. “As if I could ever say no.”

You and Marcus stayed on the floor until you heard a familiar voice say, “Did you ask yet?”

“Missy!” Marcus looked up quickly, surprised. “When did you get home?”

“Just now,” Missy said. “Was it a yes?”

You opened your arms, tugging Missy into the hug pile on the floor. “It was a yes.”

Max Phillips:

You loved Max more than anything. He was kind to you, handsome, and an all around good boyfriend. Not to mention the fact that he was undead, which was a surprising perk.

However, lately, he’d been acting really weird.

It was an unsettling kind of weird. He would spend more time than usual away from you, he was definitely hiding something, and he was so damn jumpy and defensive when you asked about it.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Max!” You shouted through your townhouse. “Max! I want to talk to you! Now!”

Max came up from the basement, which had been named his area for vampire shit, so you never entered. “What’s up babe?”

“We’ve been dating for a while now,” you said. “So I know when you’re hiding something from me.”

“Babe,” Max said, almost warningly. “Stop.”

“No!” You said, finally putting your foot down. “What the hell are you doing? You’re in the basement all the damn time, I never see you, and you always act super guilty around me! What the hell?”

Max’s face paled, and he sat at the kitchen table. “Babe. Please, I can’t-“

“Jesus,” you grumbled, already knowing where this was going. “Max! I love you! I love you a lot! But this again?”

“I’m trying to find a way to propose to you!” Max snapped, standing quickly.

You stopped, mouth open. “Propose?”

Max nodded, and you were sure that if he could, he would be crying. “Yeah. Propose.”

“Oh.” You felt oddly guilty for yelling now. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Max mumbled, sitting back down. “I should’ve been more open with you.”

You shook your head, moving closer to Max so you were standing between his legs and he could rest his head on your chest. “Max, I’m sorry I yelled. But I don’t understand. Why were you spending so long in the basement to try and propose?”

“When a vampire takes a human partner, a typical proposal includes a turning,” Max admitted, his words muffled by your shirt. “I was researching and preparing.”

You smiled. “Do I get a ring too?”

Max chuckled a bit, and you were glad to hear it. ��Yeah. I found a nice black one with rubies in it. It’s downstairs.”

“You had all of this planned out,” you said, burying your hands in Max’s hair. “Right down to the ring.”

“Right down to the ring,” Max agreed with a smile. “I was going to propose officially this weekend.”

“This weekend,” you murmured. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

On Friday evening, Max finally took you downstairs, clearly nervous. The basement was small, and Max had only made it more cramped by putting what you suspected was a tattoo chair in the room. It had thick leather straps that unnerved you, but from what Max had said last night when he explained turning, you would need them.

“Max,” you said softly, sitting in the chair and watching your boyfriend shuffle around. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Max said softly, passing a ring box over and over in his hands. “Here.”

The ring inside was beautiful. It was minimalistic, a simple band of black metal with a small ring of tiny rubies that glittered in the artificial lights. “Max,” you said, sliding the ring on. “I love it.”

Max smiled, kissing you. “I’m glad. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Max was very careful strapping you down, and when he was done, he kissed your forehead one last time, mumbling out an apology before sinking his fangs into your neck.

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Max had fed from you before, but this, this burned like someone had injected you with lava. You were sure you were screaming, and then your vision went black.

You woke Tuesday morning, a sharp metal taste on your tongue. Max was beside you, reading a book and blinking very slowly. Even for an undead vampire who needed no sleep, days on end without resting was hell, and it showed on Max.

“Babe!” Max said, noticing you were awake and standing quickly, abandoning his book. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes?” You said, confused. “My stomach hurts, but I don’t want food.”

Max nodded, undoing the straps and helping you sit up. “You’re thirsty. Here, try this.” He handed you a bottle and you chugged half of it, feeling a warmth spread through your body. “Feeling better?”

You nodded, putting the bottle down. “Yeah. Did it work?”

“Yep,” Max said, kissing your forehead. “You’re a vampire, and we’re engaged.”

That sent a giddy feeling through you. “We are going to have the weirdest wedding ever.”

Max laughed. “I agree.”

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

“Babe!” You shouted through the house, knowing Frankie was downstairs. “I’m taking a bath!”

“Oh!” Frankie said, and you could hear him thudding up the stairs. “Use this! I found it off Instagram, well actually Benny found it, but he said you might like it!”

You smiled, taking the black bath bomb. “This is very Game of Thrones-y,” you said, turning the bath bomb over in your hands. It was black, with a vibrant orange stripe around the middle. The entire thing was egg shaped, with small scales that made you fairly certain it was supposed to be a dragon egg.

“Eh,” Frankie said with a shrug. “It wasn’t marketed as a Game of Thrones egg, but I guess it does look really Mother of Dragons-ish.”

You laughed, kissing Frankie on the cheek. “Thank you. I’ll use it. But when I stain the tub, you’re cleaning it.”

Frankie stuck his tongue out at you, and you scrunched your face at him as you closed yourself in the bathroom.

Once the bath was filled, you’d lit a candle, set up a glass of water, and got into the tub, you began to slowly unwrap the bath bomb. The smell was familiar, in a weird way. It smelled like fruit and wood smoke, the same smell Frankie carried on his whenever he went camping and ate an entire pound of strawberries. You smiled, dipping the bath bomb under the water and relaxing as it hissed and bubbled, slowly turning the entire bath black.

The bath bomb was mostly fizzed away when you saw something in the bath with you.

Your immediate reaction was to freak out, but it clearly wasn’t a bug, nor was it anything disgusting. It was a clear plastic sphere with gold inside.

Curious, you scooped the small sphere out and rolled it over in your hands. You’d heard of bath bombs having small surprises in them, and Frankie must’ve not realized. You popped the sphere open, fully expecting a small toy.

You did not expect a ring.

The ring was gorgeous. The metal was a darker grey, with an upside down teardrop shaped gem in the middle that shimmered in all sorts of oranges and pinks and reds. Circled around the round part of the gem was a tiny dragon, almost like it was defending its hoard.

You smiled, setting the ring on the floor and turning back to the sphere. There was one more thing inside. A small slip of gold paper. Written on one side of the paper was care information, the size, the return policy, and on the other side...

“Francisco Morales I am going to kill you!” You screamed, standing and sending water sloshing everywhere.

The other side of the paper read ‘Will you marry me?’

You could hear Frankie laughing on the other side of the door as you quickly wrapped yourself in a towel and yanked the door open. “Explain.”

Frankie was sitting on the floor, a huge dorky grin on his face. “You said you didn’t want a traditional ring. And Benny actually did suggest the bath bomb. Really, if anyone should be in trouble, it should be him!”

“Good god Frankie,” you mumbled, scoping the ring up and examining it. “It’s beautiful.”

“Is it?” Frankie asked, standing to get a better look. “There were ten options. Oh, that one’s my favorite.”

You sighed. “Are you also going to get a dragon ring?”

“Yeah!” Frankie said eagerly, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Mine’s more masculine, but it has the scales, and the stone is the same.”

“You know,” you said, fiddling with the ring. “You never actually asked me.”

Frankie’s eyes went wide. “Do you want me to?”

Smiling, you shrugged. “If you want to.”

Frankie took the ring from you and got down on one knee. “Baby, will you marry me? Even if it is with a dumb dragon ring?”

You laughed, nodding and kneeling down so you could kiss Frankie. “Absolutely Frankie. I will marry you. Dumb dragon ring and all.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

You sighed, examining yourself in the mirror. You’d chosen one of your favorite formal outfits for tonight, as Jack had asked. He was coming directly from work to pick you up, and you couldn’t wait.

You’d known Jack for a long time, and you’d been there for him through thick and thin. When you started dating, he was reluctant and hesitant. But now, five years later, your relationship was as natural as breathing.

“I’m home!” Jack called through the house, and you rushed out to meet him, kissing his cheek and smiling.

Jack slid a hand down your back as he kissed you properly. “Why hello,” he said smoothly. “Are we ready to go darlin’?”

You nodded, bending down to put your shoes on before righting yourself and shifting a bit to get comfortable. “Yep! Ready to go. Still don’t know where we’re going though.”

“I want to treat my baby on our anniversary,” Jack explained, keeping his hand low on your back as you walked to his car. “We’re going out to dinner.”

It had been so long since Jack had taken you to dinner, and you were surprisingly eager when he helped you into the car. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” Jack said, putting his hand on the center console and grinning as you automatically held it on your own. “It’s a surprise, baby.”

You pouted playfully, smiling as Jack began to drive. Jack was the master of planned surprises, and you had no doubt that this night would be unforgettable.

The restaurant was very nice, something you had assumed considering your current state of dress. Jack even left his hat in the car as he walked out. He had a reservation, and the waiter showed you two to your table with a friendly grin.

“Jack,” you said happily, looking around. “This is lovely.”

“Five years,” Jack replied, taking your hand. “It’s a big number. I wanted to do something special.”

You laughed. “Jack, honey today would’ve been special no matter what.”

The waiter came back, and you two ordered dinner, Jack reassuring you that you could get whatever you wanted.

For a little over half an hour you two talked, ate, and laughed together. Jack told you about work, making you laugh when he told you about how Tequila, who you’d met exactly once, had tried to use Jack’s lasso to grab a chair and accidentally pulled said chair into his face, giving himself a black eye.

Once the food had been eaten and you were considering dessert, you noticed Jack was starting to look nervous. “Jack? Is everything okay?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah, baby. I’m fine. I actually have a question for you.”

“Okay?”

“I’ve loved you for a while,” Jack said, taking your hands. “You make my life so much better and you saved me from living alone and sad. I’ve called you mine in words for fine years now, but I want it to be official.” Jack moved, still holding your hands, and knelt down in front of you. “I know our relationship is rocky, but I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

You swallowed down tears, trying not to cry your eyes out in public. “Jack,” you said softly. “Yes. I will.”

Jack dropped one of your hands and pulled a ring out, sliding it onto your finger.

There was dead silence, and then someone began to clap, starting a tidal wave of noise and congratulations.

The rest of your night was spent in varying states of euphoria. Jack joked, as he led you back to the car, that you two could consummate the marriage in the back of his car.

“Okay casanova,” you said with a laugh as Jack undid his tie and top button of his shirt. “Can it wait until we get home, at least?”

Jack smiled, draping his tie around your neck and pulling you close for a kiss. “No, I don’t think so,” he purred into your ear. “Shall we?”

You pretended to consider. “Y’know what?” You said softly, leaning in so you were speaking directly into Jack’s ear. “I think we shall.”

Ezra:

To say Ezra was a man of many words would’ve been an understatement. He was arguably a man of too many words, each one more elegant than the last. He could come up with elaborate poems basically on the spot, and writing was a piece of cake for him.

So why was he having such trouble trying to find the right words to propose to you?

Ezra sighed, looking at the small ring box with the ring inside. He’d commissioned it custom, so that the stone was one he’d collected on your first prospecting trip together. You were completely unaware of his antics, he hoped. The only thing Ezra had left to do was find the words to propose.

Which was proving to be harder than he’d originally anticipated.

“Ezra?” You said from the other side of the pod. “Ezra? It’s dinner time.”

Ezra sighed, putting the ring in his pocket and pulling aside the divider that separated the pod into rooms. At this point, he was bracing himself for just winging it and hoping he was just as poetic in the moment.

“Hey Ez,” you said, turning when he walked into the kitchen area. “Long day?”

“Is it that obvious starlight?” Ezra said with a laugh. “Today was a lot.”

You smiled, putting a plate in front of Ezra. “Well, at least dinner is done.”

Ezra nodded, tangling his feet with yours when you sat down with your plate. “Starlight, I was thinking today.”

“Oh?” You said around a mouthful of food. “That mind of yours is truly never idle, is it?”

“You know me so well starlight,” Ezra said. “I was thinking about our future.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Our future? Ez, what do you mean?”

Ezra shuffled his feet, still keeping his ankles tangled around yours. “I was filling out paperwork today for my solo job.”

Your face fell. Ezra had been offered a solo job that you were unable to do with him. He’d be away for months, and last time you and him had been apart, he’d been marooned on the Green and came back four years later with one arm missing.

“Oh starlight,” Ezra murmured, taking your hand. “No, it’s not bad my dear. I was reading the papers again. In the fine print, I found something that intrigued me. There is a way for you to accompany me.”

You perked up at that, and he could see the hope in your face. “Really?”

“Yes,” Ezra confirmed. “My starlight, I am allowed to bring family members by blood and by law.”

“By law?” He could see the confusion take over your face. “Ezra, what are you saying?”

Ezra put his hand in his pocket, hoping this wouldn’t all backfire. “Starlight, I’m asking you to marry me.”

You were quiet for a second as he pulled out the ring and held it out. “Ezra,” you breathed softly. “Are you serious?”

“I have loved you for years, starlight,” Ezra said. “And marriage has always been something I wanted to discuss with you. But this job made me realize I want nothing if I can’t share it with you.”

“Oh Ezra,” you said, taking the ring and looming closer at it. “Is this?”

“The first stone we harvested together,” Ezra confirmed. “It is.”

You swallowed hard and smiled. “Ezra. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Ezra carefully put the ring on your finger and pulled you across the tiny table to kiss you deeply. “Thank you my dear. I think you have truly made me the happiest man in the universe.”

“Anything for you, Ezra,” you murmured, already looking forward to a future by Ezra’s side.

Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey:

Shane was not a marriage guy. Not in the slightest. You’d asked him once about it, mostly for tax reasons, and he’d immediately told you he wasn’t going to do all that shit for a piece of paper and a ring.

So you’d never brought it up again.

However, you’d been dating Shane for almost seven years, and you’d only just noticed something peculiar about him. He never really wore his jewelry or any of that around your apartment, mostly because when he was home he wasn’t Dio the goth king of New York, he was Shane the weird but funny boyfriend. But you’d noticed when he was taking his rings off one day that he wore one or even two on all of his fingers except for his left ring finger.

“Babe?” You said, sitting beside Shane on the couch while you two watched Jeopardy. “Why don’t you wear your rings in the house?” You’d been playing with Shane’s hand during the movie, and you’d finally managed to ask him.

“I don’t want to bring Dio home,” Shane said, curling his fingers around your hand. “I’ve told you that before. Why?”

You shrugged, still not looking at Shane. “Dunno. Curious.” You traced your index finger down Shane’s ring finger. “You don’t wear a ring here.”

Shane was quiet for a minute before he sighed. “Baby, I don’t want to wear a ring there. Yet.”

“Yet?” You asked, apprehensive.

“One day,” Shane said slowly. “I’d like to get married. But I’m young, and I’m king, you know.”

You smiled. “I can’t rule alongside you?” You asked.

Shane laughed, kissing your head. “Maybe one day you can, my dove.”

The next day, while you were out, you stopped by a small local business that you and Shane both loved. He got most of his Dio clothes at the shop, and you occasionally found something for yourself, like the patched leather jacket that matched Shane’s.

“Hey! It’s the soon to be reigning monarch of New York City!” Marissa said happily upon seeing you come in. “How’s it hanging?”

“Hey Ris,” you said, looking absently at a pair of vintage style pants. “I’m doing good, and so’s Shane.”

Ris smiled. “Only you could have the guts to call the king of New York by his actual name.”

You laughed, leaning on a jewelry case to talk to Ris. “He asked me to! I’ve told you before, he doesn’t bring Dio home with him. He’s a bad influence on my kind, law-abiding boyfriend.”

Now it was Ris’s turn to laugh. “Oh honey,” she said. “Now I know you’ve lost it.” She paused, seeing you looking mesmerized into the case below you. “See something you like?”

“Yeah, actually,” you murmured, pointing to a specific ring. “That.”

Ris pulled the ring out. “It’s Dio’s size,” she said softly.

“Oh Ris,” you mumbled. “Shane and I were talking about marriage yesterday. He said he wasn’t ready yet, but he had that look in his eyes. Y’know the one where he’s hiding something from me.”

“Honey,” Ris said, cutting you off. “If you feel the time is right, go for it. Don’t wait for him to ask.”

That afternoon, you went home with the ring in your pocket. It truly was a very Shane ring. You’d feared it would be overly simple and lost among the heavy and ornate rings Dio wore all day, but the small skull made from a gleaming pearl that was set into the band of dark metal was the perfect balance between Shane and Dio.

All you had to do now was ask.

You planned to ask during dinner, but Shane wasn’t home for dinner. He’d left with his long leather coat, so you could only assume he was out doing Dio things. So, instead of eating dinner with Shane, you ate alone, the ring box growing heavier and heavier in your pocket with each passing minute.

Finally, about halfway through Jeopardy, which you hated watching without Shane, he came home. He looked exhausted, falling onto the couch without taking his rings or coat off. His eyes blinked closed and he let out a long breath.

“Shane?” You asked, scooting and pulling your boyfriend’s head into your lap. “Long day?”

“Too fucking long,” Shane agreed, a smile pulling at his lips when you began to rub his temples, hoping to clear away his headache. “How’s Jeopardy?”

You shrugged. “Boring tonight,” you said. “No good categories.”

Shane yawned, and you carefully took his hands, beginning to take his rings off. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” He asked, opening his eyes so he could watch you as you lined each ring up on the coffee table.

You smiled, putting a ring with a heavy bird skull on the table. “How do you wear these all day?” You mused, mostly to yourself. “These rings must weigh a few pounds, at least.”

“You get used to it,” Shane promised, rolling so he could wrap his arms around your waist. “C’mon, I wanna snuggle.”

“Alright,” you said, abandoning the rings. “We can snuggle.”

The next morning, Shane had to leave again, but he was able to delay it so you and him left at the same time when you left for work. As he got dressed, you looked over his ring lineup. Slipping the one you’d bought yesterday into the line, you perked up as Shane came out of the bedroom.

“Looking good,” you said happily, seeing Shane in your favorite, a tight pair of leather pants and a black tank top. “C’mere, I wanna see if I remember where all your rings go.”

Shane sat on the couch, holding out his hands and grinning. You mirrored his grin, starting on his right pinky finger and working your way in. It was easy, considering you’d put them in order yesterday. When you reached his left hand, you started to get nervous. But there was no backing down now.

“And one more,” you said, sliding the skull ring onto Shane’s left ring finger.

He looked down at his hands, confused. “Babe, I’ve got an extra.”

“I know.”

Shane lifted his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you proposing?”

You shook your head. “No!” You said, maybe a bit too quickly. “No, I just, I wanted you to have something to remind you of me while you were out, and-“

“Yes.”

You stopped, voice failing at Shane’s single word. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Shane repeated. “I’ll marry you if you want.”

It took a minute of dead silence for you to understand what Shane was saying, but when you did, you couldn’t hold back the tears. “Shane.”

Shane was equally as emotional as you, his tears running black and making you laugh. “Shane,” you giggled. “Your eyeliner.”

“Oh.” Shane touched his cheek and began to laugh. “Dammit! I’m gonna have to fix that.”

You smiled, pulling Shane in for a kiss. “What if we stayed home today? To celebrate?”

Shane scooped you up, holding you tight against his body as he carried you to your bedroom. “Y’know what? I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Javier Peña:

Having Javier home was the greatest gift of all. He’d been in Columbia for so long that you’d almost forgotten him, the way he laughed and cried and spoke. And then, by some miracle, he came home and to you.

Which was where you were now, home in Texas while Javier received phone call after phone call, and you occasionally caught snippets of the conversations, something about Cali and Columbia. You were scared to ask what that was about, but at the same time, not knowing was killing you.

“Javi,” you said slowly one night, while you were making dinner. “What was that latest call about?”

“Work,” Javier grumbled, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “I’m sure you’ve figured this out by now, you’re not stupid, but they want me to go back.”

The thought of that chilled your blood. “And they still won’t let me come with you?” You asked hesitantly.

“Probably not,” Javier said. “Circumstances are, if you can believe this, worse than they were when I left.”

You made a face, pulling a pan off the heat and sighing. “Javier,” you said. “What if we got married?”

Dead silence. You almost regretted asking, but you needed an answer.

“No,” Javier said finally, voice sounding strangled. “No. If we were married, you’d be able to come with me, but I won’t allow that.”

“Why?” You were sure he could hear the heartbreak in your voice.

Javier shook his head. “Because what I saw down there was enough to scar me for ten lifetimes!” He said loudly. “And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

You trembled, nodding your understanding. Javier slowly got closer, wrapping you in a hug. “I’m sorry I raised my voice,” he said gently. “But you must understand. It’s not that I don’t love you or don’t want to marry you. But I can’t risk you getting hurt, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

Three weeks later, you waved goodbye to Javier, tears pouring down your face. He looked equally as torn, but he kissed you firmly and promised, just as last time, he would be home again.

And home again he was.

For months, you tended to your house, waiting for the day when you’d hear Javier’s car pulling up on the rough gravel driveway. You almost lost hope more times that you could count, but the promise of having Javier home kept you going. He called, of course, and he wrote letters you put on the fridge. But nothing was the same as having the real Javier beside you.

It was the dead of winter when he returned home. Of course, Texas weather meant that it was still nice and warm out when you heard the car in the driveway. Perking up, you tried to remember if you’d invited anyone to visit.

Peering through the peephole in the door, you sighed, seeing Javier’s oldest sister coming up to the house. “Hey Maria,” you said as you opened the door. “How’re you?”

Maria shrugged. “Good. Missing my little brother, but what else is new?”

You smiled. “Yeah. Come on in. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Maria admitted. “But I was in the area and figured I’d drop by to see how you were holding up.”

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “I’m doing fine. Javi wrote last week, and I’m so sorry, but the AC is completely dead. Do you wanna go outside?”

Maria nodded. “That works. Sucks about your AC.”

You tugged open the sliding door, looking back at Maria. “Eh. It’s fine. Simple fix, I just can’t do it myself.”

As you turned, you felt your stomach drop to your shoes. “Javier?”

Your boyfriend smiled, standing nervously in the yard. “Surprise.”

After a second of stillness, you launched yourself at Javier, laughing and wrapping him in a tight hug. “You’re home!”

Javier hugged you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m home,” he murmured into your skin. “And I have a surprise for you.”

You pulled away, watching Javier take a small box out of his pocket and dropping to one knee. “I’m so sorry,” he said as you gasped softly. “I should’ve asked before I left, and I should’ve taken you with me. I was just scared you’d be hurt, and I didn’t want to risk that. But I see now, I don’t want to go anywhere unless I can have you beside me. So please, my love, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You said happily, falling to your knees and pulling Javier in close. “Yes. I will.”

Javier smiled, kissing you gently. “I figured a late proposal was better than no proposal at all,” he said.

You laughed. “I agree.”

Maxwell Lord:

Max took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. He’d been doing this periodically for over three hours now, as the clock grew closer and closer to five PM.

Five PM. When he was supposed to pick you up and take you out for the night on a simple Valentine’s Day date. He’d take you to dinner, and then you two would walk around the reflecting pool, taking in the sights of DC at night. Hopefully, Max would work up the courage to get down on one knee then, but with the way things were looking right now, that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m a coward,” Max groaned into his hands, looking at the clock again. Four thirty.

“Daddy?”

Max immediately sat up, smiling wide as Alistair walked into the room. “Hey!”

Alistair looked at Max’s desk and the ring box sitting next to his lamp. “What’s that?”

“This,” Max said, pulling Alistair into his lap. “Is a ring for (Y/N).”

“Like a wedding ring?”

“Exactly like a wedding ring,” Max said, throat growing tight. “I’m going to ask them to marry me today.”

Alistair smiled. “Will they say yes?”

“I don’t know,” Max admitted. “I hope so.”

“They love you a lot,” Alistair said. “They told me so!”

Max paused. “They did?”

“Mhm!” Alistair nodded. “They told me last night that they love you a lot and they want to spend every day with you.”

Suddenly, Max’s anxieties over proposing melted away a tiny bit. “Thanks for telling me,” he said, kissing Alistair’s cheek. “That made me feel much better.”

At five, Alistair waved good luck to Max as he went to go pick you up, and Max waved back, the ring box heavy in his pocket.

You were waiting on the couch when Max entered the house, still in your pyjamas. “Maxie?”

Max immediately rushed to your side, seeing your lidded eyes and the green tint to your skin. “Babe? Are you okay?”

You nodded, and then shook your head quickly, leaning over and dry heaving into a bucket by the couch. Max rubbed your back, suddenly worried. “Babe?”

When you resurfaced, you looked incredibly guilty. “I’m so sorry Max,” you said softly. “I know you had a lovely date planned out, but y’know how I told you one of my coworkers brought us takeout yesterday? Well the chicken I ate wasn’t good, and me and the other person who ate it have food poisoning.”

Max made a noise of sympathy, shedding his coat and undoing his tie. “Don’t feel bad,” he said. “I’ll reschedule the reservation, and we can go out next weekend.”

You smiled weakly. “Thank you Max.”

Max left you on the couch while he went upstairs to put his pyjamas on. As he changed his pants, the ring box fell out, and Max’s breath hitched. Well there went his plans to propose. He could totally do it next weekend, when you felt better.

“Max?”

Max’s head snapped around, seeing you in the doorway, looking at him with confusion. “Babe!” He said quickly. “Why aren’t you on the couch?”

“I had to use the bathroom,” you said, coming closer. “Is that a ring?”

Max took a breath. No hiding it now. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “It is.”

You winced, and Max helped you sit on the bed. “Were you going to propose tonight?”

Hesitantly, Max nodded.

He heard your breath hitch, and then you started to cry, big hiccuping sobs that broke his heart as he pulled you into a hug. “Shh,” he comforted, rubbing your back as you cried into his bare chest. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“But it isn’t!” You sobbed. “I ruined your proposal!”

Max shook his head. “You haven’t ruined a single thing, my love,” he promised, rocking back and forth the same way he did when Alistair was crying. “None of this was your fault, okay?”

You still cried for another ten minutes, and when you were drained of tears, Max still held you close, allowing you to slump against his body.

“Babe?” Max finally breaks the silence. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you whimpered against his chest. “Feel bad.”

Max sighed. “Physically?”

You nodded.

“How can I help?” Max asked, kissing your forehead. “Do you need water?”

“No,” you said hesitantly. “Just wanna stay here.”

Max smiled, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Okay. We can stay here.”

Late that night, after the sun had set and midnight had come and gone, you were still awake, throwing up as Max held your hair off your face and rubbed your back. “Oh babe,” he said, seeing your face stained in tears. “Hey, I’m right here. I’m never leaving.”

You breathed heavy as Max helped you lean against his chest, your shoulder blades pressing against him, but he wasn’t about to complain. “Max?”

“Yes?”

“Are we engaged now?”

Max blinked a few times. “What?”

You turned, so he could see your eyes. “You had a ring, and said you were going to propose. Can we skip all the fancy shit and just be engaged now?”

“Oh,” Max said, smiling. “Of course. Engaged. I like the sound of that.”

Taking a breath, you fell against Max’s body, limp and exhausted, but oh so very happy. “Engaged,” he heard you murmur. “Sounds good.”

Oberyn Martell:

(We all know Oberyn isn’t about to ever marry anyone. So I present, the next best thing)

You sighed, leaning back against the soft bed and even softer pillows. Ellaria was on your left and Oberyn on your right, both holding you as you breathed heavy, still shivering from the ecstasy they had both just put you through.

Oberyn turned your wrist over and kissed it gently, likely feeling your pulse beneath his lips. “My sun,” he murmured, making your pulse jump. “I was hoping to ask you a question.”

Ellaria smiled, running her fingers gently over the warm expanse of your bare chest. You let your eyes flutter closed, leaning into her touch.

“Ellaria,” Oberyn chastised, a smile in his voice. “Let the little sun focus.”

You hummed. “I can listen,” you promised.

Oberyn nodded, tucking himself closer to you. “My sun, I was hoping you would accompany me and Ellaria to King’s Landing in a week’s time.”

The destination confused you, and you opened your eyes. “I thought Doran was to go to King’s Landing.”

“He has fallen ill,” Oberyn said, tracing the knuckle of his index finger over your temple and down your cheekbone. “I must go in his place.”

Ellaria continued to work her fingers across your skin, her hands dipping low onto your belly and her face curling into a smile as she saw how you reacted to her touches. “The prince would not take you if he thought there would be danger, my sun,” she reassured. “And I’m attending as well.”

A sigh released from your lungs, and you nodded. “I will go,” you decided. “Only if I can have this for as long as I live.”

Oberyn grinned, cat-like and mischievous. “As long as you live?” He asked, sitting up and back on his legs. “Ellaria, do you think we can manage that?”

Ellaria pulled you into her lap, so your back was flush with her stomach, understanding where Oberyn was going. “My prince,” she purred. “My sun. I do believe we can.”

“What do you say, little sun?” Oberyn asked, tracing over the ornate golden collar with the sun charm that you wore. “Shall we worship you forever?”

You nodded, glad Oberyn had given you a chance to say no, you were too tired for this right now. But you weren’t, so you just eagerly accepted his touches, keening when Ellaria’s expert hands joined in.

Oberyn, glowing in the light of the sun that filtered through the curtains, leaned down next to your ear, biting at your earlobe and smiling. “Forever, my sun.”

You gasped, feeling Ellaria’s fingers pinch at your chest. “Forever, my prince.”

Pero Tovar:

Traveling with Tovar and William was nothing less than hellish. The days and nights spent sleeping on sand without any water to wash your throats or bodies, the constant attacks from enemies you didn’t even know you had, the way your stomach rolled when you ran out of food, it was all enough for you to want to stay at whatever town you stopped at and never travel again.

And then you remembered why you’d started traveling with the boys.

Tovar had been your deciding factor, his grumpy face and seemingly insatiable appetite drew you to him, and while it took a while, you were finally able to break through and find his softer side.

You’d been exploring this unknown softness for years now, and although marriage wasn’t something either of you wanted, or in Tovar’s case even knew much about, you had considered asking once or twice.

Now was one of those times. William was in town, bartering for supplies, while you and Tovar remained in the single inn room. It was something you did often, share a single room between the three of you. You and Tovar fought for space on the first small bed, and William took the second one. If there was only one bed, William usually took the floor.

You sighed, carding through Tovar’s hair. He’d been complaining about the length, but you’d told him there was nothing you could do until you reached a town. Now that you were in a town, you were able to sit your grouchy Spaniard down and trim his admittedly overgrown hair.

“Pero,” you said, tossing another mangled chunk of hair into the fireplace. “What do you want from life?”

“You’re getting awfully philosophical,” Tovar noticed, wincing when you tugged on a particularly stubborn hair mat. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Sit still,” you said firmly. “I was just thinking, you bastard.”

Tovar grumbled a bit, squaring his shoulders and doing his best to stay still. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “What I want.”

“A lover?” You asked cautiously, and Tovar jerked in surprise, causing you to nick his ear with your scissors. “Christ! Pero! I could’ve cut your ear off!”

Tovar pressed a hand to his ear, stopping the flow of blood. “Well don’t surprise me like that!” He countered.

“Oh I’m sorry that the notion of taking a permanent lover scares you!” You yelled back, standing and walking as far from Tovar as you could get in the small room. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling a dreadful emptiness in your stomach.

“Hey,” Tovar said softly, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”

You sniffled, trying to stop the tears. “Yeah.”

Tovar put an arm around you. “Don’t lie,” he murmured, pulling you close. “What’s wrong?”

“I just,” you said, voice wavering. “I don’t want us to be a mystery Pero. I want there to be a word for us.”

“Like married?”

Tovar’s words caught you off guard, and you couldn’t stop yourself from nodding. “Yeah. Like married.”

“Amor,” Tovar said softly, running his hand down your spine. “I love you, you know. I love you a lot. But marriage, it’s hard for people like us. No priest worth his salt will bless us, and I cannot afford a ring.” The best I can offer you is me.”

“Pero,” you breathed. “All I need is you.”

You and Tovar remained in each other’s embrace for a while before you finally pulled away to treat his bleeding and finish his hair. You were working on a really knotted section on the back of Tovar’s neck when William returned, smiling at you two. “Look what I found!”

He spilled the contents of a small leather coin purse onto his bed, revealing a few coins, two small blank rolls of parchment, and a glittering ring made of gold.

Tovar picked up the ring and handed it to you. “You wanted a ring.”

The ring didn’t fit your fingers by any means, but you laced it onto a strip of leather and put it around your neck, smiling. “Thank you Pero.”

You turned Tovar to the fire once more, determined to finish your job. As you stood between his legs, working on his fringe, he leaned forward and kissed the ring where it rested on your sternum. “I suppose this means we’re married.”

“I suppose it does,” you agreed, stepping back and tossing the last chunk of matted hair into the fire. “Looking good.”

“Good enough to marry?”

You laughed. “Yes Pero. Good enough to marry.”

67 notes · View notes

combat-wombatus · 3 years

Text

Scavenger Hunt

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of crack :p

Warnings: uhh slight injury? nothing too serious

WC: 2.2k

Summary: Mina has planned a New Year’s party and a scavenger hunt to go with it. Thanks to her and the rest of your scheming friends, you get more than you bargained for…

(A/N): this was for my 20-21 new year’s event!! (again i’m revamping my blog lakdsjhfakfjh bear with me here)

14: “You’re so cute when you’re mad.” 24: “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

“What? A party? I’m not fucking going.” Bakugou snarled. “Staying up past midnight is overrated. I need my sleep.”

“But Bakubro,” Kaminari whined. “We’re hosting! Mina planned it all, and she spent a lot of time doing it! You should at least go. You don’t have to stay up that late.”

“Tch. As if I care.” Bakugou shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped forward even more. “Pinky can waste all the time she fucking wants to. I’m not going.”

“It’s our last year at UA! Come on,” Kirishima joined in. “You can leave early if you want to! It’ll be mostly in the dorms anyways. Mina did plan a scavenger hunt though, in Gym Gamma. She says that she planted “mementos” of our school experience. Isn’t that fun?”

“Fun my ass. It’s stupid, is what it is.” He glared at Kirishima. “Should’ve visited my parents. Even the old hag isn’t as loud as all of you extras in the dorms.”

“You say that like you didn’t blast a hole in the wall just last week,” Kaminari pointed out.

Kirishima winced. “Denki-”

“WELL WHOSE FUCKING IDEA WAS IT TO PRETEND THAT THEY WERE FUCKING KIDNAPPED?!?” Bakugou waved a fist wildly in Kaminari’s face.

“Fair point, fair point. You should’ve seen the look on your face though! (Y/N) thought you’d murder her!” Kaminari cackled.

“I’D NEVER FUCKING MURDER HER! ARE YOU INSANE??” Bakugou’s palms started crackling.

“Hey, chill bro, we know that.” Kirishima tried to calm him down.

Kaminari was not so lucky. “Why? You joke about murdering us all the time. What’s so different about her?”

Bakugou turned, a quick retort on the tip of his tongue, before he realized that Kaminari was, actually, right for once.

“She’s…she’s…” He stuttered.

Kaminari let out a hoot of laughter. “I knew it!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou’s face turned beet red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Suit yourself. We know the truth.” Kaminari patted Bakugou’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, Bakubro! (Y/L/N)-chan is going to be at the party too! Why don’t you confess to her there? That would be fun! And then Mina will forgive you for leaving early too!”

Bakugou’s left eye twitched. “There’s nothing to confess, Shitty Hair. And I don’t give a rat’s ass what Mina thinks.”

Kirishima and Kaminari looked at each other, then turned back to Bakugou.

“Sure,” Kirishima smirked. “Nothing at all.”

“Hey! (Y/N)!” Mina ran up to you. “You’re coming to the party, right?”

You turned to face her. “Sure am! Who isn’t? It’s in the dorms anyways so there’s not much of a point in not coming, right?”

Mina sighed. “Kiri and Kami are having a hard time convincing Bakugou to come. Something about his sleep schedule?”

You were a little disappointed, but it was to be expected. Bakugou didn’t participate much in team-building activities anyways. “Can’t relate. My sleep schedule has been fucked to high heaven.”

“Right? What a crappy excuse.” Mina rolled her eyes. “Anyways, Sero’s waiting for me in the gym to help set the scavenger hunt up. See ya later, yeah?”

“Sure! Do you want more help? I can help you guys set things up if you’d like,” you asked.

Mina leaned forward, smiling mischievously. “Nope! It’s all good! And besides, I want you to participate in the game, so you can’t help!”

You smiled. “Ah, okay. Well, I’ll see you later then!”

“See ya!” Mina winked and gave you a little wave.

“So, the rules of the game are simple: whichever team finds and touches our very own 3-A New Year’s Ball, together, wins!” Mina exclaimed from her place on the couch.

“What kind of shitty game is this?” Bakugou growled, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Mina pouted. “Hey! Sero and I spent a lot of time making this happen!”

“Yeah! They were amazing!” Ochaco jumped up too. “Stop being ungrateful!”

“Fine, whatever.” Bakugou crossed his arms. “Get on with it already. We don’t have all night.”

“Actually, we do! Not everyone here has the sleeping schedule of an old man,” Kaminari piped in.

“Shut up, Dunce Face. Nobody asked.” Bakugou scowled.

“Hey! Back to the regular program. You get to choose your own partners! Isn’t that exciting?” Mina waved her piece of paper around wildly. “Now get to it! You have three minutes!”

You looked around the room. You would’ve asked Mina, but she and Sero weren’t participating since they were the ones who hid it. They had also apparently hidden clues all over Gym Gamma as to where the location of the ball was.

“Ocha-” Oops. She’d already teamed up with Iida.

“Oi, Shitty Hair, come over here!” Bakugou yelled across the room. You sighed. Of course.

“Sorry Bakubro, I already have a partner…” Kirishima said rather sheepishly.

“…you WHAT?”

“Yeah…Momo here didn’t have a partner yet and…well…Mineta was hot on her trail,” Kirishima tried to explain as Momo breathed a sigh of relief.

“Shuckers!” Mineta faceplanted onto the couch. “I never get what I want”

“Hmph. Karma’s a bitch.” Jiro smirked from her position next to Kaminari.

“Dunce Face, you got a partner too?” Bakugou sighed, exasperated.

“Right next to me!” Kaminari pointed to Jiro with his thumb. You smiled in satisfaction. They were honestly adorable.

You turned to the rest of the room. Hagakure had already snagged Ojiro, Midoriya had, unsurprisingly, paired with Todoroki. Shoji and…Tsu? Koda had paired up with Sato, and…you snickered a little at the last pairing. Tokoyami had been bombarded with Aoyama’s relentless chatter. Which left…you and Bakugou.

Huh. That was weird. You swore that not everyone had a partner just a minute ago. And it was awfully strange that Tokoyami would choose to pair with Aoyama instead of you or even Bakugou, but…you supposed that he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

“So. (Y/N).” Bakugou cleared his throat. “Partners?”

“Uh…yeah,” you replied, fidgeting slightly with your hands.

“Ok! Everyone is paired up and ready to go?” Mina was practically bouncing.

“Yeah!” Most everyone chimed in unison.

“Let’s do it then! Sero, come on! Lead the way!” She jumped down from her place on the kitchen counter.

“What the fuck? Pinky and Tape Arms hung that thing all the way up there?” Bakugou swore.

“You can use your quirk to get up there though, right?” You looked at him, brows furrowed.

“Duh. But what about you?” He looked you up and down. “Last time I checked, you couldn’t fly.”

“Easy! I’ll just ride on your back!” You chirped. “Unless you can’t carry me?”

“Tch. As if. Get on.” He squatted down, letting you scamper onto his back. “Ready?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

You leaned into the crook of his neck, breath lightly fanning his face. “Ready,” you confirmed.

Cackling gleefully, Bakugou shot up into the sky, palms ablaze.

And as quickly as he flew, he was dropping to the ground even quicker.

“DAMMIT!” He glared daggers at the ice wall that had appeared over your heads. “Fucking Deku! And that IcyHot bastard!”

Spiraling, he tried his best to save the two of you from a hard impact on the ground, but he was only successful in twirling around in the air like a ballerina.

“Shit!” He tried to flip upside down in order to land on his feet, but the momentum was against him.

With an “oof”, the two of you landed in a pile on the (luckily) snow-covered ground.

“You alright there, idiot?” Bakugou said gruffly.

You groaned. You weren’t sure how, but you definitely sprained something with the way you landed. Ankle? Wrist? Perhaps both?

“Hey. Hey!” Bakugou climbed over the snowdrift to reach you. “Get up! The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Calm down, Bakugou!” You pushed his hand away. “It’s just a sprain,” you pointed to your ankle.

“Nothing else?” He seemed intent on picking you up, so you let him.

“Nope, everything’s fine,” you assured him.

“Sorry about that!” Midoriya called out from atop his perch on Todoroki’s newly-formed glacier. “We got a little carried away!”

Bakugou stilled. You winced. Midoriya was in for a rough time.

“Deku…” He ground out. “What the FUCK do you think you and IcyHot are doing?”

“I-I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to knock you down from the air!” Midoriya started gesturing nervously. “I-I swear it was an a-accident!”

Todoroki sighed. “It was an accident. Let it go, Bakugou. And (Y/N), we are very sorry for having injured you. Would you like for us to accompany you to Recovery Girl? The game is over now.”

“The fuck did you say, IcyHot? No fucking way. I’m taking her.” He stomped towards Recovery Girl’s office, you firmly nestled in his arms.

“Think we succeeded?” Todoroki turned to Midoriya. “They seem to be getting along fine.”

“I…I’m not sure. It’s not great that (Y/L/N)-chan had to get injured for this to work, but…Recovery Girl will fix her up fine and Kacchan might finally realize that he has feelings for her…”

“Hey guys! Great job!” Sero dangled Mina from a tree branch overhead. “Look at them go!”

“It’s all according to plan…” Mina clapped her hands together. “Now, we just have to wait for the clock to chime twelve…”

“Fucking assholes.” Bakugou hadn’t stopped muttering underneath his breath since you’d left.

You giggled. He was so angry over such a small thing. It wasn’t like the fall was intentional; you’d both just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Bakugou stopped walking and stared at you. “What?” He frowned at you. “Why are you laughing? Did you knock your fucking head on the way down too?”

You started full-on laughing this time. “No, Bakugou. It’s just…you’re so cute when you’re mad,” you tried to explain. “Your eyebrows scrunch up and you purse your lips and…”

By this point, Bakugou was a blushing mess. No one had ever called him “cute” when he was angry before.

After a while, he broke the silence. “So…I don’t scare you?”

You laid your head on his chest. “Not at all.”

“Tch. You should be scared of me, dumbass.” He turned your body so that you were facing him, shielding his tomato-hued face from your gaze.

“And why should I be?”

“Because…because…I’m Bakugou Katsuki, dammit!” He clenched his fists, bunching up your parka.

Snickering, you decided to tease him. “Thank you, Captain Obvious. I thought you were Midoriya Izuku for a second.”

“You WHAT?!?”

The two of you bantered playfully all the way to Recovery Girl’s office. She took one look at you and frowned.

“Tsk. I thought there wasn’t training today?” She rifled around for an ice pack.

“There wasn’t. We played a game and I just sprained my ankle.” You explained sheepishly. “And possibly my wrist.”

Recovery Girl tapped her cane on your knee and sighed heavily. “You guys don’t know how to take care of yourselves! Playing a game and getting injured?” She rubbed her temples. “The hospitals are going to have a field day with the lot of you once you become pros.”

“Sorry. I promise I’ll be more careful next time.” You held in a wince as she prodded your ankle.

“Minor sprains. I’m going to wrap those and give you some gummies. Take this ice pack with you when you go. Ice for 10, leave for 20, and repeat for 3 hours. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” You held out your wrist for her to bind.

“And don’t you go do anything else dangerous now, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear!” You hopped nimbly off the table, landing on one leg, and was promptly scooped up again by Bakugou.

“Hey! Let me down! I can walk!” You protested against his arms.

Bakugou turned to Recovery Girl. “Look at her. You really want her to walk?”

“As a matter of fact, I do not. Stay still, young lady, and let him carry you,” she admonished.

You slumped in defeat, and Bakugou carried you out of the room.

“Ahh…young love,” Recovery Girl stared wistfully at your fading silhouettes. “I remember…”

“3!”

“2!”

“1!!”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR’S!!”

The class was situated in the common room, spread out over the numerous couches and munching on fresh cookies (courtesy of Momo and Sato).

And as the clock chimed 12, you looked to Bakugou, sitting right next to you.

“Can…can I…” You started nervously, fingers fidgeting with your ice pack.

“What? Spit it out,” Bakugou stared at you.

“Canikissyou?” You blurted out as fast as your tongue would let you.

He smirked. “What was that? I couldn’t understand you.”

You sighed. “Would…would you mind if I kissed you?”

Bakugou’s lips pulled into a wolfish grin. “All you had to do was ask, dumbass.”

Epilogue

“Do you think they caught on?” Mina whispered excitedly to Sero. “I wasn’t sure if they saw me leading Todoroki and Midoriya to the ball.”

“Nah, I think we’re fine. Besides, it’s not like he can complain. He got a girlfriend thanks to us, right?” Sero chuckled.

“Ok…if you say so…”

Suddenly, they heard a growl coming from the doorway to their left.

“Shit.”

“Run!!”

“I won’t let you bastards get away with this!!”

Coco’s New Year Celebration 20-21

Masterlist

126 notes · View notes

davidobitch · 3 years

Text

Traditions | Timothee Chalamet

okay so I’m well aware I don’t ever write for Timothee Chalamet but I really wanted to write this and it didn’t seem fitting for anyone else I usually write about?? I hope you like it even though the timing is like...18 days late...oops

I didn’t proof read this so my apologies if it sounds like a 5th grader wrote it.

anything written in italics is the past! enjoy xx

3 years. 156 weeks. 1,095 days.

That’s how long you’ve spent with Timothee. You love him with everything you have inside you but things haven’t been okay lately, not for the past year almost. Neither of you wanted this to be ‘right person, wrong time’. You both tried to fight for your relationship to work out and go back to how things used to be...but that was up until last month.

Timothee has been busy with his movies and you’ve been busy with your business. With the year coming to an end, you both and to get everything done before the new year. You tried not to think that this was the end. You kept telling yourself that it was only for this month then you and Timothee could go back to working everything out. But part of you knew that maybe this really was the end.

You were just getting home from a launch party when Timothee was getting ready to leave.

“Hi,” you said quietly, dropping your purse on the table, “Another shoot?” you kept your eyes on your boyfriend, watching him go over his mental checklist of everything he needed.

Timothee nodded his head, turning in circles looking for what was probably his keys. You glanced behind him, seeing them in the other room on the coffee table.

Passing by him, Timothee followed you with his eyes hoping you weren’t walking away from him without a goodbye. He heard his keys jingle in your shot and let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, standing in front of you. His hand lingered on yours, letting his fingers trace your bones.

“Promise me you’ll be back tonight?” your stare was fixed on your intertwined hands, not wanting him to let go.

Timothee squeezed your hand before pulling away, “Of course. You know I’ll be here.”

You and Timothee always threw a New Years Eve party, it was something both of you looked forward to each year.

He gave you a quick kiss before leaving the house, letting silence seep through the walls. It hasn’t been long since you started staying at Timothee’s daily. It’s only been a year, if that, which ironically is when everything started going wrong in the relationship. Coincidence? Probably, but you refused to believe that. Most nights you couldn’t help but wonder if you moving in was the reason you guys started fighting almost weekly.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you started picking up around the place, wanting the house to be spotless by tonight.

You have sent Timothee countless texts reminding him what time people will be over and last minute things he needed to buy. It’s been three hours and you haven’t heard back from him. You assumed he was just getting caught up in shooting or discussing work stuff, but when another three hours passed by with no call or texts, you had a bad feeling he was bailing out tonight.

You texted Timmy again, another reminder of what time to be home and asking him to pick up the rest of the party stuff for you. You begged him not to be late tonight, or even just not show up at all. Time was slowly running out and you decided to just run out and buy everything yourself. On the verge of tears, you called Timothee and to your dismay...it went straight to voicemail. You tried holding in your cries as you left him yet another message, telling him tonight was make or break the relationship. It was either he shows up by midnight or you pack your bags tomorrow morning and move out. You didn’t care anymore as you let your feelings out fully for the first time in months.

You needed the drive home to clear your head and gather yourself before having to pretend your relationship is perfect.

It was just barely 9pm and you still had to hurry up and be ready by 10. You called a couple friends to come over early to help finish setting up so you can shower and look presentable.

“Thank you guys so much,” you said as you entered the kitchen where your friends were arranging the cups and drinks, “T’s been so caught up at work today. I just- I love you guys.”

“We love you of course,” your friend, Ashley says as she grabs a bottle of tequila and 3 glasses, “To a new year,” she says, raising her glass.

“To a new year,” you and your other friend say in unison.

The liquid burns as it travels down your throat, warming your entire body. You took another shot before going back to finish getting ready.

You picked out your best little black dress, wanting Timothee to see what he’s losing if he decides to not show up tonight. Your hair was curled, your face was glammed up, and you were ready to black out everything tonight.

You finished just in time for all your’s and Timothee’s friends to show up, letting the night begin.

You were about 5 tequila shots and 3 drinks in when the clock hit 11:45. You checked your phone seeing you had no calls or texts from your boyfriend. You were losing hope with every passing second and you didn’t care to hide it anymore.

You were on the balcony with your friends when your mouth started to ramble. “T isn’t coming tonight. Or at least I don’t think he is. He’s been gone for the past 15 hours and I’m pretty sure we’re breaking up tonight. Fuck we should’ve broken up a year ago. You know nothing has been the same since I moved in?” You took another drink before continuing, silently hoping your friends would cut you off any second now, “We haven’t had sex in god knows how long. I don’t get to see him for longer than 4 minutes a day. We tried so hard to make things work which was such a bullshit move.” You let out a shaky breath, knowing you were a couple words away from crying and that was the last thing you wanted to do tonight. Finishing off your drink, you closed your eyes and let the night breeze calm you down.

“We see more than you think, y/n,” Ashley says, pouring half of her cup into yours, “We just don’t say anything. You know we love you and we will continue to support you no matter what you choose to do.”

“And don’t give up on Timmy not coming just yet. He still has 5 minutes!” you sip on your drink, trying to remain optimistic. Olivia’s right, he still has time..but if he hasn’t showed up in the past 5 hours, he’s not going to in the next 5 minutes.

“I really thought he was the one, y’know?” you mutter into your cup, watching the liquid swish from side to side.

Your friends wrap their arms around you, pulling you in for a group hug. “Come on, let’s do a couple shots before the ball drops.” Olivia pulls you back inside and to the kitchen, placing 2 shot glasses in front of each of you.

“Cheers to 2021. A year of new beginnings and more memories than we will remember!” Ashley yells, bringing her glass up.

11:58. You knocked one of the shots back, allowing it to fog your brain.

“Cheers to y/n, for being the toughest bitch we know,” Olivia shouts as she raises her glass, you and Ashlet following her actions.

11:59. Another shot down.

You glanced around the room as there was 30 seconds left in the year. No tall, lanky, brown haired boy in sight. You wanted to cry and scream and run out of the house but instead, you grabbed the bottle of vodka and made your way to the balcony.

You caught your friends attention, shaking your head as if to tell them you’re fine but not to follow you. The glass door slid shut behind you as everyone started counting down.

“10!”

“Kiss me tonight,” you boldly said to Timothee, “None of our friends are single. We’re the only losers who have nobody. So be my new year’s kiss.” The first new year’s eve you and Timmy spent together. Your first year of being friends.

“9!”

“Are you going to force me into kissing you again?” Timothee jokes as he comes up behind you, almost causing you to spill your drink from scaring you.

“First of all, you can’t creep up on a girl like that!” you swatted at his chest before taking a sip of your drink, “Second of all, I didn’t force you to do anything.” Everyone around you was counting down, “Third of all,” just as the clock hit 12:00, you pulled Tim’s face to your level, gently pressing your lips to his, “absolutely.”

“8!”

You had spent the entire night by Timothee’s side. This was your first year spending New Years with just him and his hometown friends. You felt lost without your usual crew bullying you into kissing Timmy for another year. “What do you say we do this every year,” Timothee nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, placing light kisses on your skin.

You let out a giggle, confused at his choice of words, “T we do this every year already,” you turned around to face him, your hands playing with the bottom of his shirt.

“No I mean as a couple. I want you to be my girlfriend,”

“7!”

“I love you,” Timothee drunkenly yelled in your ear, causing a bright smile to spread across your face.

“You’re drunk, baby,” you rolled your eyes. Neither of you have said the L word before and this wasn’t the way you expected it to happen.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to spend another year not telling you every day.”

“6!”

“Timmy!” you yelled over the music, wrapping your arms around his waist, “You have 5 seconds to kiss me or I’m finding another boy!” you giggled as Timothee turned around in your arms, grabbing your face and pulling you into him just as the new year hit.

“5!”

You were crowded into a small corner of your friends kitchen, having been forced to spend the night with them instead of your boyfriend. Timothee was out in New York for a photoshoot and couldn’t make it home in time for your “tradition”.

“I wish you were here,” you mumbled, making a pouty face at your phone screen, “Now I have to kiss Ashley this year and that’s not fun!” You yelled, hoping she would hear you from across the way. You changed your camera to face here, showing Timothee her middle finger in the air, “See, she’s mean. And so are you for not being here.”

Your eyes wandered to the time on the stove clock, seeing as it just hit midnight.

“Happy new year, baby,” Timothee says. You look down at your phone screen to see the facetime was over. Confused as to how the call ended but you could still hear his voice, you glanced up at your friends to see them all staring at you with giddy smiles.

“Can you turn around and kiss me already?” Tears blurred your vision as you quickly spun around and jumped into your boyfriend’s arms.

“4!”

“Please please please don’t hate me,” Timothee says as he wraps his arms around you. “I didn’t realize the time and I know I fucked up, but you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, y/n” This was the first year he almost missed being your new year’s kiss and as much as you wanted to kill him for it, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” you said, shaking your head and pulling on his shirt, bringing his body into yours.

“3!”

Another shot in your system, trying to rid the memories of the past 7 New Year’s Eve nights. Your mind started playing games with you. Timothee’s voice was echoing all around you, like he was actually with you.

“2!”

“Baby,” you could hear Timmy say, but you tried to push it out of your thoughts. “Please don’t ignore me. I’m so fucking sorry,” You could smell his cologne behind you as a warm touch could be felt on your wrist. Your breath was shaky as you turned to face the man behind you, hoping this was reality and you weren’t drunkenly imagining this.

“1!”

“I’m here. I’m always going to be here. For the next whatever years, I’m 100% here. No more long days without you. No more missing date nights. This is my promise to you, y/n.” Timothee says, his eyes filled with liquid.

“Happy new year!”

You threw your arms around his neck, almost falling backwards as you crashed your lips into his. “I love you, forever.” you muttered against his lips, “Thank you, T.”

*****

“Why can’t we just spend this year at home with our friends like we always do?” you asked Timothee as he pulled you out onto the balcony with him. This year he took you to Paris for New Years Eve and as grateful as you were for this mini trip, you didn’t want to break tradition.

“Because like you said, we spend every year at home with our friends. It’s never been just us.”

Ever since he promised to put more time into the relationship, everything has been almost perfect. Of course you still had your occasional fight, but that’s to be expected and it was never over anything stupid. Well...most of the time.

“I guess it would be nice to spend it alone,” you leaned your head against Timothee’s chest as you took in the site in front of you.

The hotel room had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, dead center in front of you. You’ve seen the structure many times in the past but it was never this beautiful.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispers against your neck, his hands gently squeezing your hips.

You nodded but stayed silent, letting the music from inside fill the space around you. Timothee started to sway with you as your favorite song started to play in the background.

“I would love to assume it’s such a coincidence that Robbers is playing right now,” you smiled, teasing your boyfriend, “But I guess I should give you credit for planning this.”

Timothee takes your hand in his and spins you around into him as his other hand settles on your hip.

The two of you danced around the balcony together as your song went on and all of Paris could be heard counting down the end of the year.

“Last year I made you a promise to put more effort in. We had a hard year and I know I put you through a lot and I can’t apologize enough for that, baby. But here we are 365 days later, getting to have another new year’s kiss together. I thank you every day for forcing me to kiss you all those years ago ‘cause we both know I would have never had the balls to make the move.” Timothee’s voice was soft, barely even audible with all the other noise happening around you. “But a lot has changed since that first kiss. A lot between us but also with us separately. I never want to spend New Years, let alone any day, without you.” Timothee abruptly stopped moving and pulled away from you as fireworks were being set off all around the city. You pulled your eyes from him for a split second to watch the sky light up with different colors.

What you didn’t expect to see when you brought your attention back to him, was Timmy on one knee, with a ring being held up towards you.

“I’m making another promise to you, to love you forever, to always put you first. You’ve been my life for the past 6 years and even though we were together for only 4 of those years, I still couldn’t imagine you not being in my life. You’re my best friend. Mon amour. I want to spend every waking moment with you. I want you to yell at me when my socks are in random parts of the house. I want to have little mini versions of us running around and drawing on walls. When all my dreams come true, you’re the one I want next to me. It’s you, baby. It’s always been you. Marry me, y/n.”

Your hand flew to your mouth as you vigorously nodded your head. You didn’t give Timothee the chance to stand up before you fell to your knees in front of him, falling into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, T. You’re the only person I ever want to spend my life with. I love you so so much, mon amour.” You cried as you placed kisses all over his face.

#Timothy chalamet #Timothee chalamet imagine #tchal #tc #masterlist #prompt #imagine #timmy chalamet #timothee fanfic

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 6

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - angst… oops. Some allusions to sex but not much.

Author’s note: Starting to get fun now! It's the gala and there's a little surprise at the end. The DC fan in me is LIVING for this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER SIX - NEXT

You and Maxwell had been having so much fun together, you hadn't left his penthouse once, except when he had rented out a local boutique for a few hours so you could try on dresses for the big night. The boutique was an indie store, not too far from Black Gold Cooperative HQ, and when you arrived, they seemed to already know Maxwell. Of course, everyone knew Maxwell but it was like they had a personal relationship with him. You later found out that the tailors there fitted him for his suits and crafted his ties and pocket squares.

You were amazed. The boutique was small but decorated with rose gold and flowers; mirrors and paintings everywhere. It smelt like freshly cut grass and it made you miss home. It was rare you smelt anything like that when you lived in the big city. You were already in love with the atmosphere. The staff there were polite too, although they did seem surprised when Maxwell had brought you in. You caught them whispering about you but Maxwell interrupted your thoughts when he held out a short and black dress. “It’s Gucci.” he announced, double checking the label.

“Hey, it’s just like my thrift store dress I wore to the restaurant last week.” You chuckled and he nodded in agreement, a small ‘Ah’ escaping his lips as he hung it back on the shelf.

The store manager came over to you both holding a tray of tea and scones. “I thought you both might appreciate a bite to eat,” she said kindly, placing the silver tray on the little side table next to where Maxwell had been sitting. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, we’re fine.” Maxwell replied quickly but you held your hand up.

“Actually,” you spoke up, clearing your throat. “We could do with your help. You see, I’m not used to coming to places like this.” you admitted sheepishly, and the manager shot Maxwell a strange and confused look. You failed to understand her bewilderment.

“Of course darling,” she replied. “My name is Korin. May I ask what the venue is?”

“No you may not.” Maxwell snapped and Korin’s cheeks rosied up.

Your head snapped into the direction of Maxwell and you glared at him, in warning to be polite and remember his manners. There was no need for him to be so rude. You turned back to Korin after a beat of awkward silence.

“It’s a Christmas ball,” you told the manager with a deep breath. She took out a notepad and began to scrawl your words down on the paper. “At the White House.”

Maxwell snapped your name so loud you jumped out your skin. You spun your heel around to face him. “Can I have a word with you? In private?” He asked, venom dripping from his tongue.

“I’ll go look for something suitable while giving you two some privacy.” Korin said awkwardly before padding off.

“What the hell is your problem?” you asked the CEO who was running his long fingers through his dark blonde hair. He loosened his tie slightly and placed a hand on his hip. He looked stressed.

“You told her the gala was at the White House.” He deadpanned, looking at you like you had just burned his favourite Armani suit.

“So?” you asked.

“You do not tell people -locals,” he corrected, “private information like that. Do you understand? It was in the contract.”

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in the contract,” you sighed. “You’re just being rude for no reason.”

“I always have a reason.” Maxwell snarled before storming outside in a huff.

You stood there, alone, in the centre of the boutique feeling small and inadequate.

❆ December 10th, 1984 ❆

It was the afternoon of the gala. The week between yours and Maxwell's argument at the boutique had been awkward— too awkward for you to feel comfortable staying with him. He was working long hours that week anyway, and you didn't like the feeling of being alone in his enormous penthouse. So, you went back to your small apartment, paying your rent to Tristan. He questioned how you had gotten the money so fast but you decided you didn't exactly owe him an explanation. That week you shut yourself off from everyone. Technically you weren't working because Maxwell hadn't called. You wondered if he had been getting off with another woman. Surely if he wanted to terminate the contract he'd let you know. You thought about him every day, anxiety swarming in your gut, but you had too much pride to call him. You were certain you had done nothing wrong, so why did it matter?

Truthfully, it mattered a great deal to you. You hated that you cared so much. The scene replayed in your head over and over again. You were going to just stand there while he was being rude to others. It didn't matter, you were seeing him tonight anyway. You looked over at the dress which was hanging on your bedroom door, admiring every miniscule detail.

It was crimson red in colour, perfect for a Christmas gala. It exposed just enough skin, the bodice being a plain velveteen material and the long skirt coated in a sparkling glitter mesh with a high rise slit. You paired it with red heels and a diamond necklace. You didn't know if you were going to be overdressed… you had never attended a gala after all, but you knew for a fact you'd look gorgeous.

Maxwell hadn't seen the dress. He had left the boutique before you had even tried it on, and so, something primal inside of you anticipated his reaction. He hadn't seen you in a week. You weren't sure how tonight was going to go. A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Answered it, you were greeted by a group of three men with beaming bright smiles plastered over their faces.

"Hello! We're here to help you get dressed for the Black Gold Cooperative annual Christmas gala!" one of the men said, sliding past you and dropping his bag on your couch before any words could leave your mouth.

"I-," you were semi speechless as the men invited themselves in and made themselves comfortable. "Did Max invite you here?" you asked curiously.

"Mr Lord did, yes," the same man nodded his head and began to unpack hair equipment from his bag. "Actually your place is quite small. Shall we travel to Mr Lord's penthouse? Might be better if we get you dressed there."

"No!" you said, a little too much panic rising in your voice. "I mean, it's fine. You know, I can do my own hair and makeup. And I appreciate you all coming… I really do… but it's not necessary. And the gala doesn't start for another three hours…"

"Three hours!" The stylist gasped. "Come on boys! We have to work quick! Chop chop!"

You were pushed into a chair and one of the men began by brushing through your hair, as another man started setting out the makeup. From the looks of it, you would be doting a smokey eye with red lips. Sultry but still festive. "Where is your dress?"

"Um, bedroom door." you replied, pointing down the hallway. "Why?"

"I must take your measurements to ensure the dress is tailored to perfection." The stylist grinned, shooting you an enthusiastic chef's kiss.

"Really not necessary." you replied, wincing as the hair stylist pulled a knot from your hair. "Ow! Listen I know you have to do what Mr Lord says but I'm telling you-"

"No ifs and no buts!" he shushed you. "Besides, it's more so Mrs Lord who we're scared of."

You sighed. You had repressed the memory of his psycho mother. "Max's mother is going to be there?" you grumbled, already feeling a headache bubble up.

"Of course! She loves all the galas and events. Mr Lord… not so much."

The three of them took their time getting you dressed but by the time they were finished, the result was indescribable. You looked like a princess. You had truly never thought you were capable of looking so beautiful.

"Ah, just in time! The limo is waiting outside!" The stylist squealed excitedly as he clipped the diamond berret in your hair. "Hurry up now! Don't want to be late!"

You smiled, thanking the stylists for all their help and left your apartment. Walking down the stairs, you were stopped by an all too familiar voice calling your name. "Tristan?" you asked, hesitantly turning around to be greeted by your ex boyfriend.

"Wh-" he was speechless as he drank in your appearance. "Where are you going?" he asked, swallowing the hard lump that had formed in his throat.

"None of your business." you snapped dryly, turning back around and continuing down the stairs.

"Wait- you. You look…" Tristan was truly at a loss for words. "Who's having the party?" he was quick to change his tone.

"A friend." you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"Do I know her?" Tristan quizzed.

"No, he's new." you sighed, picking up your speed as he chased you through the lobby.

"He's a he?" Tristan scowled.

"Just- stop!" you groaned, spinning around on your heel. "It's none of your business. Just leave me alone Tristan!" you cried out. Tristan didn't say a word and you scoffed in disbelief, racing outside into the snow and into the black limousine waiting for you.

The driver, Jeeves, opened the door for you and you slid inside breathing a sigh of relief. You froze up when you felt a warm hand on your thigh. "Max." you whispered, looking at him. It was the first time you had seen him in a week.

He looked amazing, exactly how he looked on television or in the magazines. His tux had been pressed to perfection and his hair was combed and straightened into place with hairspray. You offered you a small but hesitant smile. "You look exquisite." he said, his voice small.

You were so sure you wanted an apology from him but you didn't know if it was unreasonable to expect such a thing from Maxwell Lord. But in that moment, you didn't care. You hadn't realised how much you had missed him until you were reunited with him in the back seat of his car.

But Maxwell Lord had missed you. Every day his fingers grazed his office phone as he contemplated calling you. He missed your warm embrace. He missed your smile and the softness of your skin. He missed the feeling of release as he pushed himself inside of your soaked cunt as you moaned his name, coming undone beneath him. Maxwell gulped as you placed your hand over his.

"Never been to a gala," you admitted sheepishly.

"Stay by my side, I've got you." Maxwell promised, leaning in and brushing his lips over your neck. He smelled amazing. Like mahogany teakwood with a glance of sweet honey. If you could have it your way, you'd squirm onto his lap and take him right now in the car. You wanted to make a mess of his expensive suit and fuck him so hard his perfect hair falls out of place.

When the limo pulled up in front of the White House, the red carpet was rolled out and ready. "Shit, we're a good twenty minutes late." Maxwell cursed, biting his lip as he looked through the dark tinted windows. Thankfully, it seemed as though no one was in sight and he figured you could both sneak in unnoticed. Wrong!

Taking your hand he pulled you out the limousine. As soon as your foot stepped on the red carpet, an abundance of paparazzi and journalists came out of nowhere. They were screaming for Maxwell, going wild. The flashing white lights from the cameras were blinding you as Maxwell pulled you down the carpet. "Max?" you felt panicked, squeezing his hand in terror.

"Put your head down. Don't look up." Maxwell whispered harshly. You followed his instruction, cowering behind him nervously as he pulled you through the crowds.

"Mr Lord! Maxwell Lord! Hello, Maxwell! Could we have a word? Just one question please! Sir! Maxwell Lord!"

You wondered how he had it in him— how could he possibly put up with shit like this on a daily basis. Maxwell looked up and politely smiled. It wasn't the same smile that you saw. It was his television smile. There was no sparkle in his eye. He waved and nodded his head in the direction of a few journalists. "Head inside. I'm going to speak to a few reporters. Try and get some good press. Don't talk to anybody, understand?" Maxwell said sternly and you nodded quickly. The second Maxwell let go off your hand, you felt unsafe.

"Mr Lord, can I ask, what does Christmas mean to you?" one cheery reporter smiled. "One must wonder, how does the Lord family celebrate Christmas?"

"Oh indeed," Maxwell schmoozed. "For me, Christmas is a time to give back. Which is why I have chosen to donate a sizable sum of money to the orphanage and the children's hospital. The donation will be made in the name of our dearest Black Gold Cooperative customers and clients. Because at Black Gold, we believe that everyone who invests in us, will get a little something in return." Maxwell charmed. "And what about you doll, do you have plans for Christmas? Got a cute boyfriend you'll be going home to?" Maxwell flirted, causing the news reporter to blush wildly.

You scurried down the red carpet as fast as you could in your heels, when an arm grabbed you and pulled you to the metal barriers. "I'm Angela Matthews from ABC News reporting live tonight from the White House in Washington DC. Maxwell Lord has just arrived to his annual Christmas gala, albeit late, and it seems he has brought a woman. We are joined here tonight with the sensational…" the journalist took a deep breath and leaned into you. "What's your name?" she hissed, thrusting her microphone to your lips as the cameraman turned to face you.

"I- oh- I uhm-" hesitantly you gave them your name, folding your arms over your chest and briefly glancing back over to Maxwell who was grinning and laughing while talking to a different reporter.

"Fabulous, and might I just say you look stunning tonight. What designer is that dress?" Angela queried and the cameraman kneeled down to get a strong shot of your red number.

"Uh, from a, uh- local boutique." you smiled politely, itching to run away and hide. You wanted Maxwell.

"Wonderful! Supporting local businesses I see. And so what is your relationship with Mr Lord?" Angela beckoned further. You felt sick; you were on live television and Max had told you one thing— don't talk to anyone. Whatever. You'd never been one for rules. But how were you supposed to answer? You couldn't exactly tell the nation he was your sugar daddy!

"Uhm, friend. He's my friend." you grinned. Yeah, a friend. Surely that was the best possible answer you could give.

"Considering Maxwell Lord's reputation, I'm not sure how much the nation will believe that." Angela spat back and you felt yourself heat up with embarrassment. "So you're his girlfriend? Let's see your hands. An engagement ring, possibly?"

"No!" you cried out, beginning to get frustrated. You were so loud Maxwell noticed and he sighed. "He's just my friend." you confirmed as Maxwell hurried towards you. He slid an arm around your waist.

"Darling," he gritted out, pushing you away from the reporters. "I told you to go inside."

"That lady from ABC news yanked my arm!" you accused, frowning and rubbing the skin where she had dug her nails into you.

"Inside. Now." Maxwell demanded before turning back to Angela with the fakest smile you had ever seen.

"Mr Lord! Oh wow- Mr Lord it's really you." Angela gushed as Maxwell walked on over to her, a smirk playing on his lips. "I- my whole journalistic career I have been waiting to see you in the flesh. Can I- can I touch you?"

"Um, no." Maxwell scowled and the colour drained out of Angela's skin. Realising his rejection was broadcast on live television, he knew he had to make a smooth recovery. "But doll, look at you in that pink jacket. Simply ravishing. Tell me, is there a man in your life?" Maxwell charmed. Something he loved to do was change the topic at hand from him to whoever else. He was an excellent conversationalist although he wouldn't stand for nosey tabloids pressuring him about his personal life. Shutting them out and using his charisma in other ways was something he had gotten rather good at over the years.

You were standing in the lobby of the White House, impatiently tapping your feet as you waited for Maxwell to finish schmoozing with the press. You were in awe as you looked around. You had never imagined you'd be standing in the White House. Just being in the presence of all these important people made you feel powerful. You looked up, twirling around on your feet as you took in the decor.

You jumped slightly when you felt a finger tap on your shoulder. A man, average height, average build. His hair was dark and his eyes were an interesting combination of green-brown. He dazzled you in the suit he was wearing. It wasn't quite as designer label or extravagant as Maxwell's but the simplicity of the black on black tie was something else. He passed you a glass of champagne.

"You look lost," he smiles, looking you up and down and licking his lip. "I'm Bruce Wayne. And you are?"

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curly-bangtan · 5 years

Text

Blizzard (M)

Pairing: roommate!Jungkook x reader

Summary: When a blizzard hits your town, you and your shy awkward roommate are forced to spend time together, not being able to leave the house due to the strong snowstorm. To make matters worse, the power gets cut in the middle of his shower. Which also means no heating.

Genre: roommate au, domestic au, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers

Warnings: bit of a slow burner, vanilla!Jungkook, virgin!reader, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), losing virginity, shy soft boy Koo with a crush and a noona kink, your heart could possibly burst from how cute he is

Word Count: 15.5k oops

A/N: (This fic is written in parallel to Heatwave, with an opposing concept in mind. You don’t have to read Heatwave to read this, but it would be interesting and funny to see the differences in the two scenarios that both lead to roommates hooking up.) Also, happy birthday, bunny boy! Sorry this was a day late, I was honestly swarmed. I love you, koo. Writing this very much gave me a bias crisis but it was all worth it. Enjoy! :”)

PS. Think April 2019 Jungkook

‘A severe snowstorm is set to hit us this weekend with temperatures dropping down to -16˚C. It is therefore ill-advised for anyone to leave their houses during this period until the blizzard subsides as the fifth snow-induced traffic accident has been reported this week in our town…’

You have always marvelled at how the weather lady announces such things with such a passionate captivating tone.

‘The calculated probability of a city-wide power cut is currently at 72%, so please be well-equipped to stay indoors for the next two days.’

Oh shit. A power cut?

This is not good at all. Not like you have any plans for this weekend anyway, and you wouldn’t necessarily mind being stuck inside since you are good at entertaining yourself. But to possibly have no warm water, no internet in the duration of these few days?

You are currently snugly rolled up in the warmth of your blanket burrito, a mug of chamomile tea fitted in your hands, the steam of which evaporates under your chin into a slick coat. Friday evenings have never been eventful for you as long as Jimin doesn’t drag you out to some bar with him. As introverted as one can get, you much prefer staying in and watching TV or endlessly browsing the web.

The distinct rattling of keys spins your attention to the front door. Hearing the plunge of the metal into the keyhole is strangely satisfying to your ears. In steps a pink-nosed, frost-dusted Jungkook, all wrapped up in winter apparel thick enough to make him waddle clumsily.

A gust of cold flares inside from the harsh outdoors, stray flakes of snow flying in after him and landing on the rich oak tiles of the foyer. From the couch, you see his silhouette breathe out a visible grey huff. The door behind him falls shut, once again entrapping the warm temperature into the confines of these walls.

You watch your roommate, humming to himself with his black earpods hooked in his ears, as he unties the scarf around his neck. He probably hasn’t noticed your presence yet; he’s always been a little clueless afterall.

Then he looks up and meets your lingering gaze.

You both jump a little, his humming ceases instantly, eyes scrambling, darting away to your surroundings: the quiet television, the arching lamp, the white powdered window panes. Anywhere but at each other.

Clearing your throat, you greet him softly . ‘Hi.’ Your thumb rubs at the lip-shaped tea stain on the rim of your mug.

‘Um, hi. Good evening, noona.’ He dips his head at you, hood drooping lower over his head. You are two years his senior, and despite your supposed familiarity, he insists on formalities.

The weather lady has now been replaced with the anchorman, who is droning on about the car accident this morning. Awkwardness hangs in the air between you, as it always does every time you speak. It’s now your turn to say something, you’re painfully aware. But what do you say?

‘Snow storm.’ It is a statement more than anything. As if he hasn’t noticed… Nice one. You immediately want to hide your face in the mint furry throw you’re wrapped in.

‘Yeah. Snow storm.’ The rubbery sound of the careless removal of his shoes against the floor is louder than his response. ‘Jimin didn’t make it.’

Your blood freezes. ‘Wait what?! Oh my god! What happened to him?’ It takes the blanket sliding off you for you to realise that you’ve stood up abruptly. Your body is immediately flushed with a breeze of cold, devoid of insulation.

The car accident… It can’t be…

Jungkook’s attention flickers to the glaring screen as he paces towards you and realises how he must’ve sounded. ‘Woah, sorry, I worded it badly. I mean, Jimin’s stuck at Taehyung’s because the snow is too thick for him to drive back. And the service on his phone is whack, so he can’t reach you. Taehyung told me. Sorry, I didn’t mean he didn’t make it.’ Nervous chuckle. Scratching the back of his head.

Never has he said this many words to you in one go, this must be a record. That, as well as your own silly misunderstanding of his words, makes you release a humoured breath. ‘Oh right… Haha… I’m stupid.’

‘No. my bad.’

Wow. If you two keep this up, this might just be your longest running conversation in the history of living together.

Because he’s looking at the floor rather than you, you feel the liberation to look directly at his face. His round nose is red from the freezing temperature, his teeth gnawing at his chapped lips. You follow his gaze travel across the dark wooden panels, reaching a halt at your feet.

‘You’ve got a hole in your sock, noona.’ He states.

Indeed you do. Under his wide-eyed glare, you can’t help but curl your toes inwards as if it would hide your pinkie jutting out of the fabric. The way he addresses you, how his lips form a pouted ring when he pronounces the “oo”, makes you particularly self conscious. ‘Oh… Yeah, I know, it’s fine. It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’ These socks have sheltered your feet for three winters only to betray you now, during a bloody blizzard. The icy floor licks at your exposed skin tauntingly.

Silence draws taut between you. Like you’re tied to opposite ends of a string and are both trying desperately to escape, to walk away from each other.

It’s his move now… Why isn’t he saying something? But at the same time, what can he possibly respond to ‘It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’?

‘Right… See you.’ Jungkook nods politely and heads for his room. And you know you probably won’t see him reemerge until tomorrow; it’s practically his batcave in there.

A shudder courses through your body. Though it’s not from the cold but rather the embarrassment of that encounter. Quickly switching off the TV, you hide back in the comforts of your blanket like a Halloween ghost and scurry into your own room to avoid seeing him again.

Jeon Jungkook.

Even the thought of his name makes you crease inward involuntarily like it’s some bad memory. Despite having lived under the same roof for more or less six months, neither of you have warmed to the other in the slightest. It’s not that you have anything against him; you’re sure he must be a lovely boy, but…

Well, when you put two shy individuals next to each other, you can’t really expect them to bond over their bashfulness. No, they both tend to retract into their shells.

How you came about living together is three simple syllables: Park Jimin. If it wasn’t for this one common thread you share, your worlds would never have collided.

Ever the caring friend, it goes without saying that Jimin would rent out his vacant room in his three-bedroom house to you without even a second of hesitation after Hoseok ditches the boys to move in with his girlfriend. You’ve met all his friends before. Jimin is a social butterfly afterall, how could he resist forcing all his best mates into a confined space and make them talk to each other, or more commonly known as a party?

Namjoon and you get along just fine, seeing as you both are whores for literature. Seokjin? As long as you compliment his cooking and force a giggle at his jokes, he’ll accept your friendship. Surprisingly, Yoongi took a liking to you; you guess is due to your mild mellow nature which must clear his headaches caused by this chaotic bunch. Unsurprisingly, Hoseok took a liking to you, well, because he’s Hoseok and incapable of negativity. Much to Jimin’s jealousy, you have a soft spot for Taehyung, his mysterious charm and boyish charisma; your friendship was almost instant.

But then Jungkook…

Your introduction was a blur of awkward hellos and unmet eyes. Every time you spoke to each other, it’s a nervous stutter from him or unwarranted silence from you. Worse, if the two of you happened to bump into each other in public, neither of you knew whether or not to say hi and commence a conversation like normal acquainted people, so it always ended up being an uncomfortably long pause before nodding out of courtesy then parting ways. It’s not like you belong to the same friendship group and see each other every week or anything.

Jungkook’s playful childisness shines brightly when surrounded by the boys, witch-cackle laugh and all. However, for some reason unbeknownst to anyone, this goofy side to him is immediately switched off in your presence, as if you’re the rain that extinguishes the flame of his candle. His body stiffens, eyes widen, voice stammers. Which only leads you to mirror his behaviour.

‘He’s just really uncomfortable around girls.’ Jimin has tried to offer the only plausible explanation. ‘Poor kid went to an all boys’ school his whole life, has only ever had one girlfriend who dumped him on their one year anniversary. Your femaleness scares him.’

That would be kind of cute, you guess, if you weren’t also a socially-uncomfortable hermit who requires soft gentle prodding in order to befriend. Because then you become two logs sitting beside each other, neither willing to inch towards the other.

Forgive Jimin’s mistake of thinking that sharing a roof would change this. Because how wrong was he… If anything, it only led to increased timidity around each other.

When you first moved in, Jungkook was eager to help you carry and unpack everything, seeing as he is the most physically apt person in the house. So you thought that it was his first step towards you, and that your dynamic was finally making progress into becoming one that’s more comfortable. He even lingered around your room the first few days with Jimin to help you open all your cardboard boxes.

However, he has since struggled to utter more than five words to you. Which has continued forth until this day. In the morning rush to class, you never encounter him due to your proneness to punctuality and his to tardiness. If you ever do, it’s only ever just a quick good morning, noona without looking up from his cereal. You both enjoy the safety of your own rooms, hence rarely peak your head out unless it’s for food. Jimin is always the one to drag you out by the foot, even if its just to his room or the sofa to watch a film with him. You say drag, but really you just enjoy seeing Jimin all pouty and whiny and sucking up to you in order to earn precious quality time with you; you actually enjoy being around Jimin. It’s worse for Jungkook though because he has his own ensuite bathroom, orders Deliveroo instead of coming out to eat with you two, and only ever joins social gatherings that you’re also involved in if a high enough bribe is offered.

Hence the time you and Jungkook are exposed to each other gradually diminished over time despite being roommates. At first you only suspected, but now you know for a fact, that he is purposely avoiding you like the plague.

It baffles you, if Jimin’s theory is true, how he could possibly be scared of you, regardless of his shyness towards the female specimen. Look at you, you’re this soft-mannered, quiet-spoken creature with a meek presence. You have more reason to be intimidated by his melon-sized biceps and aggressive shouts that echo from his room when he’s gaming at 2am.

So due to this mutually reciprocated mousiness, this awkward friendship-but-not-quite thing, has never been overcome in these months.

This is not a result of lack of trying, at least from your end. You do try to talk to him, exerting enough friendliness to burst your balloon of introversion. And you suppose he does make as much effort as he can as well. He once left you a note telling you to help yourself to the leftover pizza in the fridge. On your birthday, he gave you a card in which he drew cute little cartoon illustrations of you three housemates and wrote a short message.

Happy birthday, Y/N noona!

You are such a kind person, I hope we can speak more.

Jungkook :)

You thought the exclamation mark and smiley face were above and beyond for his standards. It made you smile for the rest of the day.

It’s 6:23pm and your growling stomach is exacerbated by the cold that has made itself at home in your bones. You’ve always been an early dinner person while Jimin and Jungkook are the opposite.

You’ve managed to get a hold of Jimin through Taehyung; your FaceTime call with him lasted a total of twelve minutes before the connection got too poor that it hung up on its own. Berating Jimin for leaving you alone with Jungkook, especially in this snow storm where everyone is basically on house arrest, all he did was laugh at your feign annoyance. You know it isn’t Jimin’s fault but you still like to blame him for all the awkward predicaments that are bound to happen.

After this chapter of the book you’re reading, you’ll go out to the kitchen and make some dinner, you decide.

Wait a second... Do you even have enough food in the pantry to last a whole weekend? Particularly since Jungkook can easily demolish three bowls of rice and a whole pound of meat, and still have room for dessert?

Looking out the window, you realise it’s snowing way too hard for you to feel confident to pop to the nearest grocery store without slipping and dying.

Shit! What are you going to eat these few days? Especially since the electricity can cut any minute?

Just then, you hear the echo of the front door shutting. Oh no… Jungkook did not just go out in this weather. He probably noticed the lack of food as well and decided to go for a shop. You know what he’s like, he’s a boy who’s really certain of his capabilities, over certain in fact. He probably does not see the hazard of leaving the house in such heavy snow, especially in the evening. Because nothing stands in the way between Jungkook and Food.

Do you go after him? Hell, if you do, you would probably get lost somewhere and slowly freeze to your inevitable death. You can barely navigate in perfect daylight.

Scrambling for your phone, you begin searching for his number. You’ve embarrassingly only called him once, and that was when you and Jimin got locked out of the house after a pub night.

No one is picking up.

In fact, when you check your screen, you don’t even have signal. The blizzard must be getting so bad that it’s refracting the radio waves. Which means it’s even worse for Jungkook to be out right now.

He’s such an idiot. Why did he think it’s okay to just take a walk to the supermarket right now in the middle of a snow storm? You’re such an idiot. Why were you too lazy to stock up on food during the day?

You pace around your room, phone clutched in your hand in case you miraculously get signal somehow. How on earth would you explain to Jimin that your roommate, his friend, whom he left in your care since you’re his senior, went out in a blizzard to buy food that you were supposed to have gotten this morning, and ended up dead from hypothermia?

Are you overreacting? Surely you’re overreacting. Everything is going to be fine! Deep breaths.

He’s going to come back any minute now and see you losing your mind over nothing. Right? Right.

Jungkook isn’t going to die. You’re being paranoid. Ridiculous. Overly anxious as usual.

But you can’t help yourself from pressing your face against your window to try to peek outside for a sign of him. The glass is ice cold against your skin, and it sends a blood-chilling shock through your veins. You can barely make out any shapes in the sea of greys and whites.

If you can’t even see out the window, how is he walking outside right now?

Screw it, you’re going to find him.

You’re a tornado getting dressed, whipping on your massive faux-fur lined puffer coat over two layers of fleece. A pair of gloves, double layer of socks, snow boots. Useless phone and hand warmers shoved in your pockets, you storm out of the house.

The cold that greets you burns up your nostrils and painfully invade your lungs. Snow is flying directly at your face, and you’re barely sheltered by your hood as you feel the icy flakes stab at your skin and melt away. Step by wary step, you steadily walk off your porch, careful not to slip. Your heart leaps out of your chest when your feet sink down at least 10 inches of snow, your squeal is muffled by the scarf you’re using as a ski mask.

It’s now been at least 10 minutes since he’s left. Jungkook is a fast walker, but in the snow, perhaps you could catch up with him.

The flickering lamp posts light up the night, but they may as well not be working because all you can see is white. Barely able to keep your eyes open, and batting away the heavy wind that’s threatening to blow you over, you trek in the direction of the local supermarket.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you realise that you don’t recognise the way anymore. Everything is a blur of snow. The cars, houses, street signs. All snow. Google maps is failing you; you’ve given up removing your gloves each time, your fingers instantly freezing at the exposure, to zoom in or rotate the navigation which keeps hopping from location to location.

You’re utterly and undeniably - lost.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you just plop down on your ass in defeat.

Where the hell are you? Where the hell is Jungkook?

Fear and frustration bubbles in your chest. It must have been half an hour now since you left the house. Surely he should be back, and surely he would’ve intercepted you on the way. That could either mean one of two possibilities: he got lost, slash, injured, slash, died on his way, or you have somehow strayed from the route to the store and he’s now frantically searching for you.

The lump in your throat festers into a ball of panic and despair. Looking around you, there’s absolutely no one. Just eerily-still buildings and snow-hidden cars. The only sound is the howl of the winter gust and your own uneven breathing.

You’re scared, and cold, and alone.

Why the hell did you think you could find him in this snow storm? You watch your warm visible exhale disperse in the icy air, the stinging of desperate tears piercing the back of your eyes. What are you supposed to do now?

And then it hits you. Perhaps you could trace your steps back since your feet have imprinted a trail in the snow. Looking behind you, you see that the downpour of snow has already began filling the footprints nearest to you. You’re praying that they haven’t already entirely covered your earlier steps closer to the house.

Gathering yourself together, you exert a lot of effort to stand up from the ground. Your butt is now wet, and a damp chill is seeping into your underwear. Determined, you follow your footsteps, which are growing fainter, back home.

You’re hoping you recognise the way now, that you’re not just convincing yourself that the street looks familiar.

Then an awful realisation hits you.

Both your hands are stuffed into your pockets, holding those hand-warming packets and your phone. But not your keys. You forgot your keys.

‘Fuck!’ Cursing is rare for you, but anyone would probably deem this situation as a very reasonable one to swear at.

Hot gushes of tears begin flooding down your face, painting streaks of cold that freeze over in a matter of seconds. How could you be this dumb? The snow is getting heavier right now. Checking the time on your phone, it’s 7 o’clock. The streetlights are dimming due to the weather, and the pitch dark night is starting to settle in around you.

You sink to a crouch.

This is it then, you guess. You’ve met your inexorable demise, rooted from your own stupidity. And Jungkook.

You can’t believe you’re going to die trying to find Jungkook in a goddamn snow storm.

The quiet sobs and sniffles that escape you are muted by the hood around your ears. A shiver overtakes your body as your muscles tremble as a last attempt to keep you alive. Your whole face is numb, teeth clattering, eyes clamped shut to stop the tears from freezing on your cheeks.

‘Noona?’

The voice is muffled but you recognise it instantly. Your eyes fly open to see a pair of shoes halted in front of you. You look up.

And there Jungkook is, eyes wide in shock, quivering lips parted in concern, carrying four plastic bags full of food and supplies. The streetlight situated directly behind him shines a halo around his head, painting a heavenly image of him. You’ve never been more glad to see anyone in your life.

Unable to contain yourself, you fling your ice-stiffened arms around his waist and bury your face in his coat-clad torso. Your knees give in and hit the ground. New tears spring from your eyes, but this time it’s tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of gratitude. A surge of his warmth washes over you, and all of a sudden, the cold cannot touch you.

‘W-What happened? Are you- Are you okay?’ Jungkook is rooted to the ground, he wants to wrap an arm around your small head or help you up but his hands are full with the groceries.

Gripping his sleeves, you tug yourself up to face him. You probably look like a mess, red eyes, nose and cheeks. But you don’t care. Jungkook is alive, you’re alive, and you’ve found each other. ‘Yeah, I’m fine, Jungkook. Everything is fine.’

‘You’re crying, noona.’ His ears are neatly tucked under his black knitted beanie.

‘Not anymore, I’m good now.’ Ferociously wiping the liquids profusely leaking out of your orifices, you give him the biggest grin your frozen cheek muscles would allow. ‘Let’s go home. Do you need help with the bags?’

‘No, don’t worry about them.’

Standing an inch apart, you walk side by side following his lead, assuming he knows the way. The material of your coats scrape at each other when either of you leans a bit too far towards the other.

‘What are you doing out here though?’ He asks quietly.

What are you doing out here? How do you give him an explanation that does not depict you as an idiot? Because once again, you’ve been stupid and dramatic and stressed over absolutely nothing. It’s twice in the same day now that you thought one of your roommates have died. When both of them turned out to be alive and well.

‘Um… Well, I thought it was dangerous for you to go outside alone in this weather, especially since it’s getting dark... I tried calling you but had no signal so, uh, I decided to... uh, come out to find you…’ Embarrassment begins to creep it’s way to your senses, it claws digging into your skin.

You peak at him in your peripheral vision to see him stiffen, eyes eerily focused on the snowy path in front. What is he thinking? Is he going to laugh at you? Think you’re dumb? Find you weird and obsessive?

‘Oh… Um.’ Clearing his throat, he glances at you and you quickly look away. Flustered. ‘You didn’t have to, I’m fine. I know this neighbourhood like the back of my hand, noona.’

‘Yeah, but you took so long. I got worried…’ You whisper the last bit.

An awkward pause is birthed. Your fists tighten around the hand warmers in your pockets.

‘I- I’m sorry for worrying you, noona.’ You hear his own fists tighten around the handle of bags as well, the plastic crinkling. ‘The supermarket around the corner was shut so I had to find another one that wasn’t. I made it just in time, though, right before this one closed as well. Then I also had to find a store that sells those so-’ He stops abruptly when he realises that he’s rambling.

‘Sells what?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Jungkook mumbles.

Another silence. The night has fallen, looking around, if it isn’t for the scarce light casted by the lamp posts, everything would be pitch dark. You’re so glad you’re not alone. Worse come to worse, you would’ve had to knock on these random houses and beg them to take you in for the night.

‘Wait,’ he says, ‘That doesn’t explain why you were crying.’

Well, crap. What are you supposed to say?

‘Uhh… Well, I got lost and my phone wasn’t working, so… I just kinda panicked.’ If your face wasn’t red from the cold and embarrassment from before, it definitely is now. You feel the blood pumping to your head, enough to make you sway a little.

‘Oh shit. I’m sorry, that was all my fault. I- I should’ve told you I was popping out in the first place. Ugh, noona, I’m sorry.’ You’ve never seen him display much emotion towards you, but currently, seeing him so alive with exasperation… It’s kind of endearing.

Screw earlier, this is the longest conversation the two of you have had, ever.

‘No, Jungkook, stop apologising. It wasn’t your fault at all!’

To be fair, you couldn’t have wandered that far if Jungkook found you on his way back from whatever shop he went to; you must’ve been close at least.

And so you two arrive safely to your house. Carefully wobbling up the porch slippery with slush, you stop in front of the door.

He looks at you expectantly. ‘Keys, noona?’ Of course, his hands are full.

Here you are, thinking you could’ve gotten away with not telling him you had moronically left your keys at home. ‘Um, I forgot to bring them with me.’ You utter, then add. ‘I was in a hurry.’

For a second, Jungkook looks like he’s about to tell you off for endangering yourself with such stupidity. But he just lets out a half-laugh half-sigh and bites down on his lip. ‘Mine are in my left, no, right back jean pocket.’

Right. He is asking you to get his keys from his back pocket.

His back pocket.

You freeze.

You’ve never so much as touched Jungkook, if you don’t count brushing shoulders. Hugging him back there was purely out of hysteria, which you retracted from the second you registered your action. Now, you’re going to grope his ass. This day just keeps getting you more familiar with him, doesn’t it?

Gulping, you suck up your cowardice and slide your hand into his back pocket, intentionally not looking at him while doing so. The firmness of his buttcheek fits snugly in your palm while your index finger hooks around his keyring. And what the hell, you strangely get the urge to squeeze it.

You yank your hand out of there before it can betray you and act on that impulse. Glimpsing up, you see that his cheeks are also crimson as he stares up at the ceiling a little too attentively.

After changing into some warm dry clothes and setting your snow-dampened ones on the radiator, you go out to the kitchen to see Jungkook cooking some ramen, which doesn’t come as a surprise as he practically lives off them. He’s dressed in sweatpants and a black hoodie; after cupping his ass through his back pocket, you can’t help but notice how round his rear is, especially in those bottoms.

God, what is wrong with you? You cannot seriously be checking Jungkook’s ass out.

This time his hood his down, and you appreciate how fluffy his hair is starting to grow. You can’t help but wonder what it sme-

Woah.

Why are you thinking so much about Jungkook?

Truth be told, that scare he gave you just now opened your eye as to how much you actually care about him. Despite never really saying much to each other, you guess you’ve grown a sort of fondness for him that you didn’t realise you have. It’s only natural; you have known each other for close to a year now, and half of which was spent under the same roof. Of course you would worry for his well being, you tell yourself.

The kitchen fan must be blocking his hearing because he doesn’t sense your approach, he’s singing softly to himself. He’s got a lovely voice, both your roommates do. But whereas Jimin sings loudly and proudly, Jungkook only does so in the shower or when he doesn’t think anybody is listening.

When he notices you finally, you’re peering over his shoulder. He jumps. You jump. The chopsticks he’s using to stir the noodles fly out of his hands, clattering on the counter.

‘Oh jeez, you scared me.’ He picks up the chopsticks.

‘Sorry.’ You squeak and take a step back when you realise your proximity.

‘Haha…’ He chuckles nervously, embarrassed. ‘Noona, you like jajangmyeon, right?’

Do you like jajangmyeon? You live and breathe jajangmyeon. You can’t go a week without jajangmyeon. You’ve had it for breakfast, lunch and dinner before all in one day. Those noodles in that sauce… Mmm…

‘Yeah, they’re my favourite.’ Is all you say though, you figure he probably doesn’t care for a whole speech about your love for them. Surely he knows at this point, there isn’t a single day in this house where the ramen cupboard is devoid of jajangmyeon.

‘Great, I’m making you some.’

Oh. Jungkook is cooking for you. A warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you’re not sure why.

‘You don’t have to, Jungkook. Just cook for yourself, I’ll make myself dinner after you.’ But then your stomach chooses now to bellow aloud like a bullfrog traitorously. You look at him, abashed.

A smile is playing at his lips, though he’s trying not to show it.

‘Go sit down, noona. It’ll be ready in a second.’ His eyes are fixed on the bubbling water, chopsticks hauling up the softening noodles to check their texture. Though you’ve never tasted his cooking, you don’t doubt ramen mastery, so you nod compliantly.

The bags of shopping are half unpacked on the dining table, so you decide to finish sorting them out. He’s bought gimbap, bread, cheese, some salad, mostly food that doesn’t require cooking; you can tell he has thought ahead for the potential blackout.

Then something else in the bag catches your eye.

‘Dinner’s ready.’ Jungkook carries two bowls of brown noodles, garnished with sausage and cucumber, just the way you like it.

He sets the bowls opposite each other on the end of the table that’s not packed with groceries. This feels extremely weird and domestic. Although you live together, you don’t remember the last time you’ve had a meal together on this table, just the two of you without Jimin. Yet now, you’re about to eat jajangmyeon that he cooked for you, right across each other. Extremely weird.

‘Thank you so much for cooking, Jungkook.’ You bow your head at him politely and take a seat opposite him.

‘You’re welcome, noona.’ He also mirrors your action. You can kind of understand why it must be so annoying to Jimin how you’re so formal to each other, it must sound so forced and awkward.

Which is what this meal is going to be. Forced and Awkward.

Jungkook waits for you to take the first bite before digging, which you have to do so without rolling your eyes back and moaning out loud in satisfaction. Jajangmyeon tastes so flipping good! Your one and only true love.

You’re too focused on slurping down the noodles that you don’t notice him smiling fondly at the rare sight of you so blatantly excited.

The meal goes by quietly, neither of you are talkers to begin with, much less while eating. Whether it’s because it’s your favourite dish, or because it’s a freezing cold winter day, or even maybe because it’s Jungkook’s own cooking, the food tastes especially scrumptious.

‘This is delicious.’ Your eyes are practically glowing at him; he shys away from the praise by sipping on his can of coke. Who drinks coke in this weather? A smile stretches your lips at the oddity of this boy’s taste.

Jungkook mumbles a thanks, avoiding your eye as usual. But the jajangmyeon has put you in a good mood, you’re feeling rather chatty actually. ‘Also, Jungkook, I saw you bought-’ You dig into one of the grocery bags and pull out what you spotted earlier.

‘Oh yeah.’ Jungkook stares at the two-pack of fluffy socks in your hand, wearing a slightly mortified expression. ‘Um… I thought... you could do with some new ones.’

Surprised, your whole body tenses. You had thought he bought them for himself after seeing you wear yours so comfortably. All thought flaps away from your mind like a flock of frightened birds, leaving an empty field. He- Why- What do you-

‘Oh.’ Clearing your throat, you murmur. ‘Wow, thank you so much.’ Unable to look at him for any longer, your eyes fall onto your noodles. Your hand holding the socks drop onto the table at the weight of his kindness. Then a realisation creeps up on you. ‘Wait… They don’t sell these socks in supermarkets…’

Glancing up, you find him fiddling with his fingers nervously. ‘Uh. I went to another shop that does.’

Knots upon knots begin to tie in your stomach. So that’s why he took so long out there, not only did he have to find another supermarket that was open, he also searched for a store that sells fuzzy socks. For you.

Why do you feel so warm everywhere?

When you fall into a silent trance of your own thinking, Jungkook gets worried. ‘Noona, do you not like them? Did I get the wrong ones?’

‘No, no, no!’ You frantically dispute, forcing yourself to look at him. ‘These are perfect! I’m just surprised… and touched. That’s all. Jungkook, you really didn’t have to.’ The fabric of the socks feel heavenly to touch, your thumb sinks into the clouds of its softness. Truly, this has taken you by surprise and you don’t know how to react.

‘It’s okay…’ Redness blooms across his cheeks like drops of watercolour.

First he cooks you your favourite meal, then he buys you fuzzy socks? Is this the same Jungkook you’ve been living with all these months?

‘No, here…’ You rip open the card of the packet and snap the plastic wire that holds the four socks together. ‘Take a pair, I only need one anyway.’

At you waving the socks in front of him, he leans back in refusal, shaking his head and muttering a string of no no no’s. You’re not at all a strong-willed person by any means, but you’re not backing down on this, not when he’s been so lovely to you all night. When he realises that you won’t take no for an answer, he sighs, scratching the back of his ears. ‘Okay, okay. You can have the mint ones.’

One pair is mint and the other is pink. You blink. He wants the pink ones?

When he realises what must be going through your head, he quickly says, ‘Mint is your favourite colour right?’

Mint is your favourite colour. Though how does he know? All your possessions are in a variety of pastels: baby blue, cotton candy pink, mint green and lilac purple. He couldn’t have possibly guessed…?

‘Yes, it is… But I seriously don’t mind if you want the mint ones, I’m not gonna make you take the pink ones.’

‘No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.’ Jungkook snatches the pink fluffy socks from you before you can argue and stuff them onto his lap.

Your heart does a little thing that you can’t describe.

The two of you finish your dinner in silence, mirroring each other with one hand gripping the socks ever so tightly and the other hand picking up the noodles with your chopsticks. Awkwardly, Jungkook take a glimpse at you. A tiny smear of sauce stains the corner of your mouth.

Does he tell you? It would make it awkward though, wouldn’t it? But then again, it would be worse for you to find out yourself when you look in the mirror and think that he didn’t tell you you have sauce on your face.

‘Sauce.’ He accidentally says before he could finish formulating what he’s going to say to you. Shit. What’s wrong with him? Why did he say it like that? In response to your confused expression, he gestures dumbly at the corner of his own mouth.

Instantly a blush flames across the apples of your cheeks. You are about to wipe it away with your sleeve when you realise a second too late that you’re wearing a white sweater.

Your hand dangles a centimetre from your face, wrist caught in Jungkook’s fingers as he notices the mistake in your action before you. His whole body is leaned over the table in order to reach you. Wide eyes locked on each other, neither of you dare to move at his sudden outburst of motion towards you.

‘Um.’ He peeps. ‘Careful, I’ll do it, noona.’

Before you can register, he lets go of your arm allowing it to fall onto your lap. When his index knuckle brushes against the end of your mouth, a wave of shock zaps down your spine. Your heart lurches down an abyss at how soft his skin feels on your sensitive lips. Then his touch is gone, leaving a warmth tingling in his wake.

As he looks around for something to wipe his finger on, pupils round like a puppy, your eyes refuse to leave him. Thank you sits at the tip of your tongue but your throat is too clogged to utter a sound. The clockworks are trying to turn in your brain but all you can focus on is Jungkook.

How is he this nice, kind, gentle boy? And how have you completely missed this about him? In fact, why have you been so demure with him when he’s… an angel?

Watching his tongue poke at the inside of his cheek, a much scarier thought dawns on you.

Do you have a crush on Jungkook?

White screen glaring at you, the words of your unfinished essay frowns at your lack of attention in disapproval. You can’t write about Jane Austen’s exploration of feminism when Jungkook has overtaken your capacity to concentrate on anything other than him.

The radiator by your desk acts as your foot rest, blazing the pleasant heat up your legs. Ever few seconds, your eyes would wander to those mint green fuzzy socks you’re wearing, so brand new that its fluff caresses your toes like a flower bed. Just the thought that he went out of his way to replace your old hole-ridden pair…

Stop.

Jane Austen. Focus.

But the phantom touch of his finger sweeping across the plump of your bottom lip is etched on your skin, the picture of his doe eyes staring at your mouth refusing to leave your memory.

What has happened to you? How have you just swung from two extremes: from hardly able to speak a word to him without stuttering, to daydreaming about his kindness towards you?

The cold is making you delirious. It has to be this godforsaken cold, because why else would you all of a sudden be so flustered from the thought of Jungkook?

You take a long hard sip of your coffee, and mark it as a new leaf. From now on, no more thinking about anyone else other than Jane Austen. Pushing up your sleeves, you straighten your slouching back and face the monster of you assignment head on.

Not 5 minutes later, your desk lamp begins to flicker. You throw it a quick glance as your fingers type on your keyboard. Weird, you just changed the bulb a few weeks ago. Nevermind it.

Then all of a sudden, all the lights in your room go out. Frowning, you get up and try the switch several times to no avail. Peaking outside your room, all that greets you is a cold darkness. So you turn on the flashlight on your phone and try other light switches of the house. Nothing. Even the heat begins to seep away from the heaters as they dim to a cool. Oh no, right now?

Using your phone as a torch, you pad towards Jungkook’s room and open his door before you can remember to knock. Perhaps your anxiety has overridden your common sense and courtesy. Unfamiliar with the orientation of his room, you trail your side against the wall to guide you.

‘Jungkook? I think the power’s ou-’

Your phone shines onto a tall silhouette, illuminating a view that makes you shriek and stumble back.

There he is, standing with a white towel around his waist, beads of water splattered across his naked body and dripping rapidly out his wet slicked back hair. The swell of his biceps catch your attention first, lined with prominent veins running all the way down to his large hands placed on his hips. Which leads your gaze to the illustrious v of his hips that arch down to-

Without meaning to, your eyes travel down to this bulge. His hefty unmissable bulge. The towel protrudes out like a tiny hill, and you want to scream at it.

If you had a drink in your mouth right now, you would surely spit it out all over him and choke to your death. But you don’t, so all that comes out of you is a strangled cat noise. Looking away from that sinful area as quickly as you can, you arrive at his face - shocked, alarmed and confused. Your cheeks burning in the flames of hell, you spin away hastily to sprint out of his room in horror.

Except you run into the wall.

The impact hits your forehead and thankfully not your nose. Phone flung onto the ground with the light facing up, you fall onto you knees clutching at the eruption of pain. But nothing hurts more than your pride and image.

‘Noona!’ One hand securing the towel covering his manhood and preserving his dignity, he scrambles over to help you despite himself.

You flinch away at his hand on your shoulder because he is now right beside you. And it’s as if you’ve zoomed in too far on a picture because his nakedness is suddenly magnified 100x. You want to Ctrl Z yourself out of his room and back into your own desk. Because what. the. hell.

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

Transfixed on the ridges of this abdomen, you cannot focus on anything other than the way his muscles groove up and down so smoothly to form a six pack. Shadows casted by the flashlight sculpting more definition onto his marble chest. Goosebumps are raised on his blemishless skin, which you almost want to stroke away with your warmth.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.’ You chant cataleptically in a daze. It’s more for your own reassurance than his. His bare upper body needs to let you breathe.

‘Are you sure?’ His concern is apparent in his expression, eyes examining your entire face for your injury.

‘Yes, yes.’ Desperately wanting to shoo him away, you wince at the pulsing ache burgeoning in your forehead.

‘I’m sorry.’ You both say in unison, though neither of you understand why the other is apologising.

Though he seems abashed about being shirtless, his humiliation comes nowhere near your level. Why isn’t he scrambling to put a shirt on?

To be fair Jungkook does seem awfully self conscious, you’ve caught him looking down at himself for about the fifteenth time now as he helps you up to your feet.

‘I’ll let you get dressed, sorry.’ Is all you say after snatching your phone off the ground, not even bothering to check for a cracked screen, before making your timely escape. This time more successful than the last.

Clutching your throbbing head, you race to your room and catapult onto your bed. The picture of a wet, shirtless Jungkook with only a towel to shield you from his crotch is now ingrained in your mind. You think shutting your eyes will help but you still see his divine abs behind your lids.

Holy shit.

What perhaps scares you more is how attracted you are to him. Since when did you find your roommate hot? This is shy, quiet Jungkook who plays overwatch until 4am. How dare he have a Greek God’s body to confuse you like this?

You need to stop thinking about his naked body right now.

Instead you check outside your window to see that the streetlights are off as well; it must be a blackout across the whole town, if not city. Without heating, the cold air begins to harshly sting your exposed skin. Panic starts to fester in your chest. How long can you last with no electricity whatsoever? You don’t even have phone signal, or something to charge your phone with except the one portable charger that may or may not be dead right now.

Though your door is wide open, Jungkook knocks on it politely outside your room. Which is what you should’ve done with him, you mentally scold yourself. Though he is now dressed in an oversized hoodie, your image of him is forever changed after seeing him fresh out the shower, hair still dripping. You blink hard in attempt to rid that thought.

‘Hi…’ He whispers. He’s holding two burning candles against his chest, their flames lighting up the underside of his sharp jaw.

‘Hi, come in.’

You can sense his hesitancy, the unease in the air between you, when he enters your room gingerly, feet clad in those pink fuzzy socks.

‘Sorry-’ You both say at the same time again, then release a breath of laughter. Mirth twinkles in his eyes, though his shyness does not stray from him.

‘I’m sorry for barging into your room like that.’ It’s an effort not to glance down at his adorable socks. ‘That was completely my fault, so don’t apologise.’

He swallows. ‘It’s okay, noona.’

His eyes hold yours for a solid moment before dispersing. A familiar blush is starting to paint your cheeks, you feel the heat from your chest blare up to your entire face. Unable to help imagining those solid muscles underneath his clothes, you tug at the hem of your sweater.

‘So,’ Jungkook places one of the candles on your desk. ‘This is for you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Instead of using the flashlight of your phone, use the candle or one of the torches I’ve put on the table outside to save your battery. I’ve checked the main fuse, it isn’t switching back on. Good thing is that we still have running water and plumbing, just no heating or any electricity.’ He glances at your own socks. ‘We need to use the water sparingly though or the reservoir will run out. From the shops, I’ve bought some food that we can eat without cooking like gimbap or sandwiches. There’s also a stash of hand warmers in the drawer of the TV stand if you’re cold.’

That’s a lot of words to come out of Jungkook’s mouth in one go, all spoken to you. What he’s saying is sinking in and relief washes over you, yet you can’t help but focus your attention on the way his lips move as he speaks. The dark red gleaming with lip balm, curving over each syllable so prettily.

‘That’s great, thank you.’ You finally snap out of it. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ That last sentence slips out of you before you could stop it.

Pupils widening a fraction, Jungkook’s lips part in reaction. Why did you tell him that? Maybe you should just lock yourself in your room after continuously embarrassing yourself tonight. But then he pulls into a smile that melts away the ice that’s numbing your limbs and burning your lungs. The front of his teeth slightly jutting out sweetly.

Again, a fondness tickles your chest.

‘Me too.’ The tingle spreads into a pulse that crushes your throat. Is that why they call it a crush?

You simply cannot suppress your own growing grin.

Jungkook begins to walk away, but then stops at your door and turns back. There’s a reluctance, an uncertainty to his slow movement as he faces you.

‘If… If you get too cold without the radiator… you can…’ His voice barely a husk. ‘You can come over to mine.’

Then he’s gone. The aura lit up by his candle gradually diminishes away from you as he walks down the hallway to his room.

Frozen in place, you’re not even sure if your heart is beating anymore. Those final words ring in your ear like wind chimes.

You can come over to mine.

Does he mean what you think he means? Is he offering to keep you warm during the night?

You watch the candle he’d placed on your desk, its flame mirroring the small fire kindling in your core for the boy who went out during a blizzard to buy you fuzzy socks so your feet don’t get cold.

On the other side of the wall, Jungkook is on the verge of combustion at his bold proposition to you, red burning the tips of his ears. Though the memory of the look of pure euphoria on your face when you took your first bite of jajangmyeon burns his heart hotter yet.

The cold is brutal and shows no mercy. Despite your tossing and turning and effort to warm yourself up, sleep does not grace you. Part of the blame goes to Jungkook, you have not been able to cease thinking about him and everything he has done tonight. It makes you reflect on all your past moments together, whether he has always been like this and you were only too closed off to pay heed.

Sitting up from your bed, you decide you won’t be able to fall asleep without extra warmth. You need hand warmers stuffed down your pyjamas.

So, muscles stiff from the cold, you clamber out the little warm burrow of your covers and head for the living room, forsaking any light since your vision has adapted to the dark. On your way there, you walk past Jungkook’s room. Without knowing why, your legs betray you and stop outside his door.

You can come over to mine.

The low rasp of his voice still echoes in your head, stirring your unwarranted feelings for him into a warm pot of honey.

Had he really meant it? Did he honestly invite you to his share his bed? Surely not - this is Jeon Jungkook you’re thinking of, he doesn’t even speak to you most days, can’t not cower away from your glare. And he also knows what you’re like, how it took you two whole months to even warm to all of Jimin’s friends, how you only recently stopped using honorifics with those older than you.

And surely he must be at least mildly aware of the lack of boys and romance in your life, living just down the hall from you. Jimin is the closest male friend you have, and even so, you aren’t completely comfortable with sleeping beside him.

But then… All that has transpired about Jungkook’s character tonight, how sweet and kind and thoughtful he is which completely falls outside your predictions of the boy…

You realise you want to know more, want to explore the depths and mysteries that is your strange roommate. This intangible force that has been building up in the mere hours you’ve spent together this cold winter’s night draws you to him.

So screw those hand warmers, they last way too short anyway. Who needs those fidgety packets when there’s a whole Jeon Jungkook next door?

Gathering all the courage you can muster, you knock on his door.

The wood sends tendrils of cold into your knuckles. There’s a pause at first which leaves you thinking that he’s asleep, and to be fair, this late at night he has every reason to be. You’re about to turn away and head forth down the hall when you hear sheets moving, followed by his muffled come in.

Timidly, you step into his room, mind still fresh with the memory of what had happened last time you entered here unannounced, mere hours ago. Let’s not think about that right now, shall we?

Jungkook is sat up in his bed, black hood engulfing half his head. A single scented candle lit on his bedside table beside him illuminates the whole room into a golden ochre hue, it smells of freshly washed sheets.

‘Hi…’ You peep out, stopping in front of his bed.

‘Everything ok, noona?’ His eyes are fixed on your face in wonder, but when you meet them, they dart to your socks.

‘Um, yes.’ How do you put this? How do you formulate those words? ‘I just… It’s absolutely freezing with the radiators not working. Maybe- D-’ You exhale shakily. He’s gaze slowly crawls back up to your face as he realises where you’re going with this. ‘You know how you suggested that we should… sleep tog- on the same bed… to keep each other warm…? Well...’

Jungkook blinks at you. For a heartbeat, all you want to do is curl up into a ball and roll out of here. You couldn’t even finish what you were saying because your jaw has simply refused to move, refused to let you carry on embarrass yourself.

Then, although he was already on one side of the bed, he scooches over to the left. He doesn’t look at you when he replies, ‘Of course.’

Your heart is pumping fast, almost making you choke on your constricting throat. Warily you clamber onto his bed, but stop when only your knee is on the mattress. The bed frame creaks. Jungkook is regarding you with an unreadable expression, nibbling on his bottom lip. ‘Wait, if this is weird, just tell me to go.’

‘N-No. It’s fine.’ Pulling the covers over his chest, he crosses his arms shyly. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, though you could be mistaken due to the odd lighting. ‘I was struggling to fall asleep from the cold as well.’ He adds when you don’t seem convinced.

Both of you are making this a bigger deal than it actually is, you are fully aware. It honestly pains you how awkward you two are with each other; if this were Jimin, he’d be dragging you onto his bed by the waist, letting you flounder about in his arms like a cat trying to escape before smothering you with his affection. But this is Jungkook. Quiet, shy, awkward Jungkook. Jungkook who hasn’t spoken more than ten words a day to you before the events of tonight even though you live together. Jungkook who you’re slowly learning more and more about during this blizzard.

Plus, he was the one who offered to share his bed earlier in the first place. This is fine, just fine. Act normal.

Overly conscious of how he’s watching your every movement carefully, you slowly burrow into the comfort of his bed. Immediately you’re enveloped in his residual body heat under the duvet. Now you realise that he moved over to the other side of the bed, the cold side, so you can relish in the warmth that he’s been collecting under these covers.

Why is Jungkook so… considerate?

Again, the same fuzzy feeling as before tugs at your heartstrings. Suddenly you want to reach out to him, but instead, you tug at your sleeves.

You’re both staring at the blank ceiling as if it is some fascinating art piece, with enough space between you to fit a Jimin. The candle has casted long grey shadows across the room, occasionally flickering haphazardly.

Everything that is currently whizzing through your head is driving you insane. This is actually happening. You are sharing a bed with Jungkook, the guy who you can’t even look in the eye when speaking to, your roommate who has only ever tried to avoid you. This day is a jack-in-the-box of Jungkook-themed surprises. What’s going to be next?

‘Feeling warmer, noona?’ He breaks the silence first, and you can’t help but glance over at him. His side profile is mostly masked by his hood, yet you can still see his jaw clenching. You can only imagine how uneasy he is currently feeling.

‘Yes.’ It’s barely a whisper you manage, so you clear your throat. ‘Much better Jungkook, thank you.’

Another silence. Though this is an improvement from before, you still feel a chill in your bones; the cold is a resilient pest that aches your muscles and numbs your face.

‘Should I blow out the candle then?’ You ask.

‘Oh right, yeah.’

You huff at the small flame but it refuses to go out, and you kind of don’t want it to as it provides a strong beacon of heat as its smoke licks at your face. You huff again. Still, it only wavers. You’re so cold that you don’t even have the strength to take out a candle. Peaking over at Jungkook, his eyes are locked on you patiently.

‘I’ll do it.’ He leans across the bed over you, you feel his warmth radiate into your proximity as his should hovers over your face. His scent, a clean soft musk, swims up your nose; you never noticed how pleasant he smells. The veins on his neck are protruding as he strains to reach over. When he extinguishes the candle with a single harsh blow, embarrassment rains on you.

Darkness enshrouds you two. As he returns to his position, you notice that he’s closer to you than before, now only less than a foot away. The sound of his breathing provides a steady rhythm that soothes your wild thoughts.

Though your social skills are subpar by nature, Jungkook has a way of magnifying your awkwardness. Should you say something? Good night? Thank him again?

Then you realise, he’s shivering. Of course, his hair must still be wet from his unfinished shower that was cut short by the blackout. God, he must be freezing.

‘You’re cold.’ You state, though you mean it more as a question.

‘I’m fine.’ Hums his response, yet his inhale is shaky.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you know what you’re going to do next is completely out of character and will require more guts than you actually possess. Your hand gropes at the space between you until you find his hand. It’s ice cold. Jungkook jumps at the contact and you hear him turn his head towards you. You hope his sight hasn’t adjusted to the dark yet so he can’t see how abashed you are.

‘You’re not fine.’ His fingers are stiff when you interlock yours between his. Everything is screaming inside you. What are you doing? What the heck? If Jimin were here to see this his jaw would drop all the way down to hell.

Unable to suppress the urge either, you also turn to look at him. In the dark, you can barely make out the outline of his face, the shape of his glossy eyes reflecting the moonlight seeping in through the window. Slowly, his fingers curl up around your hand. Your heart flips.

Blood roaring in your ears, you inch towards him like a frightened deer until your sides are pressed against each other. Your faces must be a hand’s width apart, but the darkness fuels you with a brazenness that allows you to not cringe away. His whole body tenses in response.

‘Better?’ Voice so soft he strains to hear you.

Jungkook nods, eyes never leaving yours. ‘Better.’ His response rumbles into your ear and percolate into your mind, and only now are you aware of how close he is.

An amalgamation of unidentifiable emotions stir inside you. You feel your own warmth trickle towards him as his does with you, and slowly his presence plucks away the cold you are plagued with.

‘Good night, Jungkook.’

‘Good night, Y/N noona.’

Though it’s only briefest of movements, you feel his thumb stroke over yours once, twice, as your eyelids fall shut.

The next morning, you wake up first with your head fitted cosily on his heavily breathing chest, his arm draped across your shoulder, shielding you from the chilly morning air.

The power still isn’t back on.

It’s now nearing 24 hours since the blackout first hit.

You’ve wasted the day wandering about the house, unsure of what to do with yourself. Though you tell yourself it’s the withdrawal symptoms from the internet, it’s mostly due to the fact that you slept next to Jungkook last night.

The earlier half of the day was spent subtly avoiding him because what the hell are you supposed to say to him? Do you just carry on your usual selves around each other or are you, like, friends now? You caught yourself watching him sleep this morning, serene breaths in and out through his nose. There’s a tiny mole under his lips that you’ve never noticed before. You had poked it with your pinky before you could stop yourself. And thankfully he’s a heavy sleeper, he didn’t even stir.

With more effort than you thought would require, you pried yourself out of his arms, a cold breeze instantly welcoming you in an embrace as you left his bed.

Those scenes keep replaying in your head: him finding you out in the blizzard, watching him cook you jajangmyeon, discovering that he when out of his way to buy you new sock, then walking in on him almost stark naked from the shower, and finally, falling asleep enveloped in his warm and scent.

You’re definitely crushing on him.

You’ve stopped denying it when you saw him meander wearily out his room at noon, bed head ruffled, eyes still droopy from sleep. Wordlessly, you had passed him the ham and cheese sandwich you prepared for yourself and you don’t even know why because you were absolutely starving.

The downpour of snow only stopped for a good 10 minutes this afternoon, a tiny window in which you poked your head out for some fresh air. Jungkook had tried to shovel away some snow to clear the porch, but quickly ran back inside when he saw your worried face plastered to the window watching him.

There isn’t much either of you can do with no electricity, no internet, no television, trapped indoors. So you occupy your day curled up on the couch, nose buried in a novel, completely immersed in that beautifully crafted fictional world.

Until Jungkook walks out in a white t-shirt and shorts.

Your eyebrow raises, peeking at him from behind the pages.

‘I’m gonna work out here, if you don’t mind. There isn’t enough space in my room.’ He scratches the back of his head.

‘Sure.’ You exhale, knowing your demise is looming over your head like a storm cloud. A lot of self control is exercised in order to not ogle at his calves.

Training your eyes at the novel in front of you with great determination, you turn the page. The first minute is easy enough, you just have to angle your book to block your view of him. But then his breathing grows heavier, panting every rep. At that, you can’t help but glimpse past the corner of your page.

Oh Lord. He’s doing push ups.

Though his biceps are mostly covered by his sleeves, the muscles of his forearms tensing at every contraction catch you eye. You marvel at the way his tendons flex out, and the way his serpentine of veins snake down his hands.

Jeez.

Then he lets out an unholy grunt, setting your whole skin on aflame. Scarlet stains your cheeks, you’re sure of it. But the sinful sounds do not stop. Sweat his now seeping through his shirt, rendering the material transparent down his back. And his ass…

You snap your focus back to your novel.

Just in time as well because he stops onto his knees, head falling back as he sits on his ankles, panting. His neck is shimmering with his perspiration, droplets trickling down like a brook.

Jungkook glances over at you to see you reading intently, jaw clenched from what he guesses is due to the excitement of the plot.

But then you stand up so abruptly that it startles him. You can’t sit here and spy on his workout any longer, you physically cannot take it. Not to mention, it makes you feel so awful, like you’re perving on the poor clueless boy who only wants to break a sweat.

The both of you just stare at each other, flustered for different reasons. His breathing slows.

‘I’m gonna-’ You don’t know where you’re going with the sentence. Gulp. ‘Uh, see you later.’

Scampering away into your room, you don’t wait for his response. Why are you panting heavier than he is when he’s the one exercising? Your book is pressed tightly against your pounding chest as you lean your back on your door. Your legs give way and you slowly slide down onto the cool floor.

There’s one thing you know for sure.

Jeon Jungkook is not good for your heart.

It’s almost midnight and Jungkook is standing outside your door. Fist clenched, inches away from rapping on the wood, but completely frozen in action.

Just do it, idiot. He scolds himself.

After an ice cold post-workout shower, this time early enough so he doesn’t have to sleep with wet hair, you both had gimbap for dinner. It was an excruciatingly silent meal which he blames himself for, though he can’t help the way his tongue gets tied every time he wishes to speak to you.

And now, bed time, he is at a dilemma of whether or not to ask to sleep with you again. It may come across as too forward coming from a guy, he doesn’t want to scare you. But he also knows that he will be missing the warmth of your body beside him if he goes to bed alone.

Jungkook sighs and lets his hanging hand fall to his side.

If you wanted to, you would have gone to his room anyway. Might as well save the awkward rejection and just take this as a no.

However, your door suddenly swings open. He’s confronted with a pyjama-wearing, baby-faced you, flinching back a step at the surprising sight of him.

‘Op- I was just....’ His sentence falls flat. He was just what?

‘I was just coming to find you.’ You mutter, eyes softening if he isn’t mistaken. A flood of relief rushes at him, so you were planning on coming to him tonight.

Wordlessly, you pad after him to his room. Everything is dark but you see his figure clearly in front of you. It gives you a false sense of confidence which leads you to trip over his charger wire you so clumsily missed.

You don’t know how he reacts so quickly to your yelp of distress, but he turns around in time to catch your outstretched arms by the elbows. ‘Watch out.’ Feet fumbling over each other, he stumbles back onto his bed as you fall onto him. The weight of your bodies sink down onto the mattress.

Hard muscle cushions your fall. Chests pressed against each other, you don’t realise your hands have instinctively circled around his shoulders for balance. Your nose is touching his fabric of his collar, his musk instantly overriding your senses. When you look up, his eyes are a crystal clear pool somehow reflecting the constellations of the night sky in this darkness. His breath caresses your forehead. Your gaze drops to his mouth, pink and parted.

You want to kiss him, you realise. So badly. Every fibre of your being is currently yearning to meet his lips, longing to know whether he tastes better than he smells.

But then your limbs are moving for you, propping yourself up and off him. Your own mouth forms and quiet ‘sorry’ as you shuffle under the sheets. It’s as if you’re watching your own actions through your eyes, controlled by your logic rather than desire. You couldn’t let yourself kiss him.

Jungkook silently squirms into his bed beside you, unwilling to look your direction as much as you’re averse to his.

So this is how it’s going to be again. Two sleeping logs next to each other.

There’s an ache of regret in your heart for being so timid. Annoyance at yourself drips down your throat, fist clenching at the sheets. You should’ve kissed him right then and there, consequences be damned. When will you get another chance? But perhaps it was fate. You have no idea how he would’ve reacted; the pessimist in you thinks he would’ve been disgusted. Yes, it was fate. It was right not to have kissed him.

Wait, no. A boldness suddenly pours down on you. Shyness and introversion has gotten you nowhere before, and it will not help your situation now.

‘Jungkook.’ Your voice comes out crisp and clear.

‘Hm, Noona?’

‘I’m still cold.’ Turning to face him, you see innocent confusion settle in his expression. The sound of your thumping pulse has reached your ears, your heart is a speeding motor flying off to find him. ‘Come closer.’

The shadow of his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. His focus does not stray from you as he slides across the bed hesitantly.

‘Closer.’

He edges further towards you. You can now just about make out the shape of the scar that flecks his left cheek.

‘Closer.’

This time, his exhale tickles your neck. Warm bodies touching, confusion and perturbation cloud his glassy orbs as he scans your face for an answer to the plethora of questions swimming in his head.

‘Thank you.’ You breathe, though it feels like no air is entering you. You can’t believe what you’re doing. This close to him, you’re entire being bathes in his presence, his aura; a familiar tingling ails your soul as your eyes flicker to his lips.

Every single muscle in Jungkook is frozen in shock, unsure of what is going on and why the sudden change in your demeanour towards him. And when you turn onto your side away from him and inch by inch back your body onto his front, his heart

stops

beating.

Nose buried in your floral-scented hair, vacillating thoughts tell him to put his arm around your waist and hold you close to him. You sense his unsureness in the way his hand rests on your side and pauses for too long before pulling you into his chest.

His frame engulf yours, the curve of your back lining perfectly with his. You feel safe, protected. His furnace touch on your waist burns through the thick fabric of your jumper and seeps into your core. The effect he has on you is nothing you’ve ever experienced before, and neither have you ever been in this position with anyone. Although it isn’t much, merely just cuddling, this feels so remarkably intimate and intense, like you’ve finally stepped through a threshold built into the emotional wall that towers between you and him.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re breathing.

Despite being the one to instigate this, you’re awfully apprehensive, not daring to even twitch incase it rattles him and sets him scrambling away. The two of you are like a pair of squirrels, slowly approaching to sniff each other, curious yet easily frightened.

His hot breath rushes down your spine like smoke. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking. Is he as nervous as you? Do you feel comfortable to him as he does to you? Or is he already falling asleep?

You should close your eyes and try to. Though who are you kidding? You’d never manage to catch a wink when you’re an accidental turn of a face away from kissing him, at least not right away anyway, not until you calm yourself down with a mental meditation exercise or something.

The urge to check if he’s indeed asleep is yanking at you, but you use all your willpower to resist, not wanting to risk rousing him when he’s as skittish as you.

But then you feel it.

Him.

It’s subtle at first, just a gentle pressure at your bottom.

Innocent and untainted as you are, you don’t even realise what it is at first, so you shift your hips unconsciously.

Then it’s stiffness grows, and grows, until it’s a baton poking at your rear.

Something in your core ignites, your chest constricts, and a wildfire of lust you’ve never felt before smoulders from your scalp to your toes before finally rooting itself in your sex. Ten hells, Jungkook’s boner is touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner and it’s touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner because of you and it’s touching your ass.

Your brain is devoid of all senses except a formidable hunger for him. Suddenly, though he’s almost surrounding you completely, the only thing you can feel is his hard member prodding you.

Is he asleep or not, you need to know.

Then a strange force possesses your lower half, and like a puppet on a string, your ass sinks back further onto him until his length is tunnelled between your cheeks.

The softest moan escapes him, almost a gasp even.

You think he’s going to say something, move away or stand up and leave. Instead he pulls himself away and slowly thrusts forward again. His clothed length slides smoothly up your crack, brushing ever so slightly over your slit. It sends a wave of arousal convulsing up your core, so powerful you almost choke.

Continuing to encourage him, your hips move in tandem with his, rubbing your ass all over his pulsing erection, occasionally letting it slide between your thighs against your clit. A pleasured mewl escapes, though you’re not sure who from. You’ve never felt anything like this, the ruin that overtakes your core at the friction. This is a divine sensation, luxury of the gods.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist as his pace increases, his breathing slowly shifting into wavering panting. Finally you succumb to the urge to twist around to look at him. Your heart erupts at the pure devastation contorting his face. His brows angled in pleasure, teeth clamped down on his lip to suppress those unholy noises, lids hanging heavy at the weight of his thirst for you. When his eyes lock on yours, something unleashes in him and devours you wholly.

Fire and ice. His lips feel like both fire and ice. Fire because your entire mind is burning at his smoothness, fuelled by your unkempt want for him to take over you. Ice because everything that isn’t him feels numb and insignificant, and your feelings for this man holding you is the purest flake of snow.

Your first kiss, and it’s already the best kiss you’ll ever have, you’re sure. Because the way his lips meld onto your, the desperation in the way he leans so far into you, the heat of his arousal forging it’s mark between your legs. Nothing in this world can top that.

‘Noona.’ He sighs into you. It drives you absolutely insane.

Fingers grappling in his wavy locks, you reposition yourself completely to face him. His length twitches against you as your leg swings behind him to pull him closer. He is holding your neck with a heartbreaking delicacy, thumb stroking your jaw like it’s the most fragile of chinas.

‘Jung-’ You whimper. ‘Koo…’

Tasting of mint, his tongue gently laps at yours when you open for him. You’re drowning in his essence, lungs filling with his air, though you welcome your sweet painless death like it’s a heavenly gift.

Knowing his docile nature, you move his hand underneath your top, giving him permission to roam freely on your skin. He snakes around your back and circles around your front before finally meeting your sore breasts. As he kneads them tenderly, you feel a warmth ooze out of you into a puddle of concupiscence in your pants.

Oh God.

Your own hands wander beneath his hoodie, raking up the bumps of his god-sculpted abdomen and taking hold of his muscular chest. His wet kisses are a drug, and you’re completely and utterly under its control.

‘Jungkook, I want you.’ You moan.

When his eyes fly open, you’re met with pools of desire, seething into you like jets of lust. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d experience him like this, covetous for you and withering under your touch.

‘Noona… Fuck.’ He trembles as your hand travels down his navel, daring to slide under the band of his sweatpants. ‘I want you so bad, noona.’

The whimper that leaves his mouth when you palm him through his boxers sends a flood of yearning down to your core.

Holy shit.

He feels…

Massive.

Heavy with girth, only about half of his length fits in your palm. You have to stretch your fingers in order to fully encompass him. He is fully at your disposal, groaning, grip tightening on you.

As he huffs into the edge of your jaw, his own hand comes down to find your pussy pulsing for his touch. When his touches your clothed slit, a compulsion forces your hips to buckle forwards. And when he begins to rub circles right on that tender spot, waves upon waves of ecstasy hit you.

Whining like an animal, your head falls back at the newfound pleasure he’s showing you. With you neck presented so openly to him like a platter of dessert, he plants dulcet kisses onto you, his gentleness kindling your fire for him. Despite your attempt to wind your focus back to him, your grip on his erection slackens at his vibrations on your cunt.

‘Can I?’ Jungkook whispers into your ear, softness tickling your lobe. You don’t waste a second before nodding eagerly.

Then his fingers slide underneath your panties. Sensitivity explodes at the contact between the pad of his thumb and your clit. A string of moans release from you. His fingers stroke tactfully up your slick, lubricated by your wetness for him. And when he slides his digit into you, the thread that holds your soul to sanity snaps.

‘Oh my god.’ He pushes through the sleek pressure of your walls. ‘Jungkook.’ The whimper of his name rolling off your tongue sends a rush of blood down to his aching cock.

‘Noona, is that okay?’ The genuity in his voice squeezes your heart.

‘Yes, it feels so, argh, good.’

He latches his lips onto your neck and sucks clouds of lavender to your smooth seamless sky. His finger is slowly pumping in and out. It is a foreign feeling, so strange and unfamiliar, yet all the more exciting. The rise of his knuckles hit your wall at eye-rolling angles. Your hips roll in his rhythm to help him reach newer depths. The pleasure is unforgiving, relentless.

Another feeling gnaws at your chest, a longing to please him.

‘I want to make you feel good, Jungkook.’ You mumble, shy.

He looks up at you, finger gradually ceasing its movement. The pure passion alit in his eyes drives you thrumming for him.

‘O-Okay.’

‘You… You have to teach me though.’ Redness flushes your cheeks.

‘Okay.’ He says again, and you wonder if you’ve broken him at the way he’s frozen.

Sheepishly tugging down his pants, you inch yourself down and settle between his legs, the duvet rested upon your shoulders. He bobs free from the restraint of his apparel.

Your eyes bulge at his cock that is, despite the darkness, standing tall and proud, beaming at you. How is that monster going to fit inside you?

A strong vein runs down the course of his length. Angry red tip swollen and trickling with a clear liquid. You look up to find him staring helplessly down at you, gulping. A nervous fear is eating away at your throat; you’ve never done this before, how are you supposed to know how right now?

‘Teach me.’ Your fingers come around the base of his shaft and he gasps audibly.

‘Uh-’ Another gulp. ‘Lick the tip.’

You lick the tip. Drawing your tongue over his engorged head, tasting his salty precum that continues to leak out of him profusely. He curses.

‘Like that?’ Your mouth doesn’t leave him as you say.

‘Mhmm.’ He runs his hand through his dark locks in exasperation. ‘Suck on it gently.’

You suck on it gently. Lips wrapped around his tip like a vacuum while you breath him in. Your cheeks hollow. You look up at him for approval. One eye is clamped shut, the other is barely held open to witness the most seraphic scene.

‘Fuck, noona, like this.’

You try to take in more, letting his wide cock slide into your mouth, careful not to scrape your teeth against his hilt. When he hits the back of your throat, you gag and splutter around him. Embarrassment shoots at you, yet when you glance up, he doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, he brushes your hair behind your ear and coos, ‘Careful, noona.’ He’s so sweet, so dear, you feel a crack in your heart.

So you try again, this time slower, swallowing as much of him as you can. Your hand swirl around his shaft while his massages the back of your scalp. You roll your tongue around his head every time you come up, flickering at his slit. Soon, your pace increases along with your confidence. Jungkook is a mess under you, thighs quivering, toes curling. Humming in satisfaction, your vibrations resonate into his dick and he yelps.

‘Noona, stop before I cum.’ The way he pleads sends your cunt throbbing. You pull his member out of your mouth almost obscenely, inhaling sharply for air.

He gently places you on your back, finger tracing your drenched lips in endearment. ‘Was that ok?’

‘That was perfect, noona. Are you sure that was your first time?’ Doe eyes wide in awe of you. You giggle and nod, glowing in timid pride. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

At that, the reality of this situation hits you. This is happening, this is actually happening. You’re going to have sex for the first time. With Jungkook.

Are you sure you want to do this?

You are sure you want to do this. If not with him, then no one else.

‘Yes.’ You state firmly, eyes never once wavering from his.

His gaze on you is so soft, yet so intense, you want to melt under him. ‘Okay. I- I need to go find a condom in Jimin’s room.’

Fuzzy with your feelings for him, you watch him scramble off in the dark to the other room. Loud clangs echo down the hall, you can’t help but smile at the thought of him digging through Jimin’s pig sty, frantically searching with his rock hard cock.

Jungkook returns moments later to the sight of you completely naked on his bed. Gaping like a little boy, he almost falls onto you as he climbs onto the bed while he tears off his own top. For a minute, you two just stare at each other’s bodies, allowing the beauty to sink in and etch itself forever in your souls.

‘Noona, you’re so beautiful. Do you know that?’ He leans over to kiss all over your face.

A warm prickle sieges your heart. No one has ever called you beautiful before. Emotion floods you like an ocean, and you’re suddenly met with a familiar sting behind your eyes.

He hovers over your lips, nose rubbing on yours so lovingly you want to cry. You’re at a loss for words, so you just nod, not daring to peep a sound lest a tear escapes from you.

His hands are shaking as he rolls on the condom. Prudently, he kisses up your inner thighs before spreading them open with care. Finally, he pecks the top of your flower fondly.

Then slowly he rests his elbow beside your head and situate himself between your legs. Both your breaths are wobbly, you search his face for security and find it. His irises reflect his galaxy - you. And your fear ebbs away.

Stroking his tip along your wetness, he kisses the shell of your ear. ‘Are you really really sure?’

‘Yes, Jungkook.’ Your fingers entangle in his hair assuringly.

‘Tell me to stop if it hurts a lot. Promise, noona?’ His concern is heart wrenching.

‘Promise.’ You whisper, other hand locking with his.

Only then does he begin to ease into you. At first you don’t feel much, just his tip diving into you. Then the rest of his length pushes in, plunging through a tremendous pressure built into your walls. Pain blooms inside you as he enters deeper and deeper, it’s an ache that you anticipated but never imagined. You both cry out, though for different reasons.

‘Are you okay?’ You can tell he’s struggling to stay still, shoulders tensing at the temptation to thrust again.

‘Mhmm.’ You manage to gripe. Because despite the blinding pain, you are okay.

‘I’m gonna go as slow as I can.’ He ensures you, fingers tightening around yours.

When he plunges into you again, you expect the hurt to lessen, but it doesn’t. It overwhelms your whole body, yanking inside you. Though, every time he kisses your lips so tenderly, your forget the soreness he’s impaling into you for a fresh second. Opening your eyes, you see him panting at your tightness, trying with every muscle in his body not to go wild at you.

‘Fuck, noona.’ He exhales, forehead rested on yours.

Seeing him so berserk with pleasure calms your running anxiety. His thrusts inevitably quickens, and you just about begin to see pass the pain. Behind the ache, there’s a gratifying sting clenching your walls. The slap of his hips against your thighs ring loud.

‘Still okay?’ Jungkook asks again, worry painting his face at your silence.

‘Yes, you can go faster.’ You answer despite the ever-present soreness. When he drives hard into you, stars and tears blurring your vision.

Something in him snaps as you feel him twitch inside you. His movements grow sloppy and feral, just like the grunts that he heaves. Chasing his climax, you can tell how close he is to his sweet release.

‘Oh- Noona, I’m so cl-ose.’ He’s whimpering into your neck.

‘Jungkook, baby. Come for me.’

At your name for him, he goes crazy, ramming into you with a strength and stamina that you couldn’t expect less of from him. ‘Noona…’ He begs. The pressure inside you is easing, pain dulling, though you know you won’t feel any pleasure this time round.

Then, in one last powerful push, he ejects into you with a loud cry. You pull his lips to yours immediately to soothe his euphoria. This look of pure pleasure on his face rips you to shred as he refuses to let go of your hand. His hips jerk into yours to ride out is high as his whole body deflates onto you.

Although it’s a freezing night, goosebump plaguing both your skins, neither of you feel cold. Instead, you are enshrouded by the warmth of your passion and desire, all you feel is each other.

You, wrapped tightly around him, and him, spasming inside you.

Heavy with exhaustion, he nuzzles up to kiss you. Long, slow and hard. You have never truly appreciated his beauty until this point, under the subtle snow-clouded moon, eyes boring into you with a never-dimming glow of adoration.

Jungkook removes himself from you, hastily disposing the condom to not miss a moment by your side. Dressing you first so you don’t catch a breeze of cold, his touch feels so much warmer, gentler.

Snuggled up under the covers, he holds you so close to him that you hear his beating heart. For a timeless passage, you stare into each other wordlessly, fingers tracing delicately over every patch of skin.

‘Y/N...’ He muses out loud. ‘Y/N… You don’t know how perfect you are…’

Again, he has rendered you speechless.

Caressing your cheek in his palm, he continues. ‘I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because then you would understand why I’m so completely in love with you.’

At his words, your throat constrict. ‘What?’ You choke out.

‘I’m in love with you, noona.’ His lips are trembling, chest pounding against you. Disquietude emanates from how he’s peering at you.

‘Oh.’

‘I don’t know how you never knew, I mean- I guess it’s pretty obvious from the way I act around you. Even Yoongi-hyung spotted it right away…’ He begins to ramble, focus hopping to the collar of your jumper that he’s toying with. ‘I just… I don’t know. There’s something so special about you that I can’t find in anyone else. I thought it was just a crush but... but then you moved in with us and… And my feelings for you just drove me insane. That’s why I kept trying to avoid you. I know I wouldn’t be able to hide it if I actually spent time with you, I’m kinda stupid when it comes to girls if you can’t tell already.

‘But the truth is,’ he takes a deep breath and sighs, ‘I am truly, deeply, madly in love with you, Y/N noona. Everything about you. The way you devour jajangmyeon as easily as breathing. The way you never go a day in winter without wearing these fuzzy socks. The way you only drink lattes and chamomile tea. The way you would rather spend your friday nights curled up with a book. The way you pretend to find Jimin annoying but secretly love the attention he gives you. The way you rushed out to find me in the snow and forgot the bring your keys. And the way you can’t talk to me without stuttering just like how I can’t look you in the eye when we have a conversation.

‘I know this is a lot to spring onto you, and I don’t expect you to love me back at all. But just know that I’m here for you whenever you need. I’m your furnace in a snowstorm, hand warmer in a blizzard. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same for me, I’ll still be here.’

Jungkook finishes with a final huff.

You stare at him, dumbfounded by his confession. Emotion floods your veins at the revelation, and you can all but break down into sobs. Jaw gaping, you regard him from his arms, trying to piece together your scattered thoughts.

‘Noona, say someth-’

You kiss him, urgently and desperately. Like you’ve been drowning in a sea of lostness, aimlessly floating about to try to find your way, and he’s your first gulp of air. Mist of perplexity is finally starting to clear away, and you see the path ahead of you with crystal lucidity.

It’s Jungkook. Jungkook, who knows your favourite colour when even your own mother doesn’t. Jungkook, who waddled out into the freezing snow to buy you new socks. Jungkook, who so gently and delicately made love to you tonight. Jungkook, who has loved you unconditionally and will continue doing so regardless of your feelings towards him.

‘I think… I think I’m falling truly, deeply, madly in love with you too, Jungkook.’

End

extras: christmas special

@shookpreme @hazelelizabeth99 @teenage-hippie @bunbundesu @tangledsparkles @gingerpeachtae idk who wanted to be tagged lol 😬

02/09/2019

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