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#please notice how everything is black and white except for their matching brown eyes
clovariia · 6 months
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you both have your father's eyes.
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twelve hours, m | jjk | ... and now
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You have twelve hours to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you. He's about to get married. You're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. Long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
this is part ii | click here for part i | total wc: 23k
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; this story contains parental child abuse and graphic violence, including the reader becoming physically scarred and having panic attacks; rich, this bachelor party is on a fuckin' YACHT, the best man is LOADED; JK and reader interacted in high school; angst and fluff and feels; cheating; this is mostly smut XD; (in part i) high school smut + intense adult smut (fem reader, striptease, semi-public sex at school, nipple play (he's a bit obsessed with them), dry humping, m-masturbation, handjob, cumming on tits (and diamonds), cum-eating, mirror kink, spitting, tit fucking, m-receiving oral, scratching / biting / marking, penetrative sex, doggy); shifts back and forth between Jungkook’s POV and your POV
non-idol!AU; film director!Jungkook x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader — ft best man, art trader!Kim Taehyung; dancer's bodyguard!Kim Namjoon and bodyguard!Kim Seokjin
> eyebrow pierced, tattooed, and long black-haired JK (with undercut) in a black suit because that's what we need in this life > look for TXT's 'you and me and the sky at 5:53' :)
--
time left: 06:49
No.
Don’t leave me.
It was the same then as it was now.
Jungkook reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. Her eyes widened, pivoting quickly on her toe, snapping her heel down and cutting the turn short, black skirt flaring out. The swift glimpse of her legs in the high slit, the gentle bounce of her breasts in the slinky fabric. Her manicured hair bounced, dyed blue-black and giving her skin a surreal quality.
He held on.
Please don’t disappear.
“What?”
Her brows knitted together. She didn’t pull her arm away, but she was steadfast in her posture, not letting him push her around. Not that he ever could.
“He asked me to escort you back,” Jungkook found himself saying. “If not for your sake, then for his peace of mind. I don’t want to be a liar.”
Her features softened.
His fingers around her arm, touching that soft skin once more.
I care. I care a lot.
Jungkook realized that, in a way, he had never moved past those classrooms, those touches, those kisses, those moments.
“You can let go now.”
She said it patiently. Always patient with him despite his overzealous and sometimes clumsy antics, putting up with it even when she didn’t have to. He looked into those eyes and found those walls were falling away, little by little. Winged liner, red lipstick, it didn’t matter, it was the same expression, defiant eyes and hint of a scowl on those lips. Ready to fight, but not him.
She was always a fighter and the opponent was always life itself.
“I don’t want to let go.”
He didn’t expect himself to say the truth, but he did.
She smirked, reaching up, her fingers covering his tattoos for a moment, placing them on the back of his hand. This warmth. This feeling. It was not the same as the rest, and he knew that now.
“Hm, well, you must realize this looks a bit awkward. You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression, would you?”
Wouldn't want someone to see you talking to me, right?
“You will let me escort you?” he insisted.
She pried his hand from her arm and lowered it, turning the other way.
“You are welcome to do as you like. I won’t stop you, golden boy.”
-
time left: 06:41
He followed you, surrounded by moonlight reflecting off water.
It streamed through the windows, lighting the red carpeted hall along with the dim sconces. You found yourself stepping in each lighted square, avoiding the thin dark beams of the windows, a little game for yourself, like how children avoided the cracks in the concrete sidewalks, except you were on a lavish yacht wearing Louboutins with a handsome man in step behind you.
It was quiet and yet it wasn’t. Small sounds, footsteps, distant muffles of talking through the walls, the faint sound of bass as you walked away from the party, the sound of the ocean ever present, your own breathing.
Jungkook’s breathing.
Familiar.
Once yours.
You looked to your right, to the window, seeing his reflection. His profile, hands in his pockets, tattooed arm standing out against the black background of his clothes, dressed formally but always a bit sheepish about it, as if he wasn’t sure if it looked good on him, but it always did, even the school uniform. He still had the youthfulness about him, even as a man.
Your eyes found his and he was watching your face in the glass of the window.
You stopped abruptly, pivoting on one heel to face him.
Impulse.
Your younger self would have bristled, glaring, accusing the eyes and snapping, what are you looking at?
Jungkook started, realizing you had noticed, and tripped, his black hair suddenly disturbed and tumbling over his eyes as he struggled to catch himself, hands flying out of his pockets.
You caught one, lacing your fingers with his, and gripped tightly, yanking up.
He righted himself, gasping. Looking up, bent over and long legs awkward, somewhat like a fawn trying to get on its legs for the first time. Those big brown eyes, parted pink lips. Familiar.
Your joined hands fell exactly where the window beam was, shrouded in shadow.
“Something on your mind?” you chuckled, shaking your head.
He straightened. You loosened your grip on his hand, but he held on. You frowned slightly, raising your brows.
He swallowed hard.
“Can I hold your hand? Please.”
Back then, you would hold his hand, hiding behind corners and dashing past, holding your breath, light steps, leaping from shadow to shadow, bodies close, breath mixing. Showing him all the secrets of the school that you had found while wandering, a fun little game with a reward at the end, school uniform being shed, skin to skin, his body against yours, his heartbeat in time with yours, his lips on yours.
You shrugged and turned back around, his hand tightly around yours.
-
time left: 06:35
Jungkook held her hand.
In an instant, he looked down, staring at their joined hands.
This was different.
And then he saw them.
Scars, all over the back of her hand. He could feel the scar tissue on her palms too, lines on her fingers even though she was holding him loosely. He had memorized every centimeter of her beautiful hands from back then, and these lines were not here before. These were not scars from living life. These had been cuts, healed now, unseen from far away and even up close. Perhaps they had been filled in with tattoo ink in a color to match her skin tone so they were less noticeable.
No one would know unless they were holding her hand or looking for it.
Without knowing it, Jungkook clutched her hand tighter, a sudden ache in his chest.
He had found bruises on her sometimes.
I fell down the stairs. It's nothing.
He had found welts.
Stupid fight with some dumbass.
He had found a criss-cross pattern of cuts on her leg.
I tried to jump over a fence and fucked up.
He glanced at her other hand loosely by her side. The same. He could even see her palm and there were many, many lines, all over her palm, healed cuts. Drugs? But he knew it wasn’t. Not because he had a romanticized idea of who she would be in his head, but because that was the nice answer.
That was the reasonable answer.
“Oh!”
“Excuse me, miss.”
His eyes flickered upward to see a young woman in a short midnight blue dress pausing, looking from her to him, cheeks flushed, not being subtle about it. The glittery fabric picked up the moonlight, accenting her curves and long legs. Pretty.
But not sensual.
Not immaculate.
Not teasing and sculptural.
The grip on his hand tightened so much that he inhaled sharply, fingers nearly crushed by her hold.
“Have a nice evening,” the woman in black purred, edge of ice indicating the stranger to move along, or, more accurately, fuck right off.
Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, and yet.
His heart skipped two beats as she dragged him along.
He had no problem looking away from the other woman and fixate on the back of that neatly pinned, blue-black hair, graceful shoulders, corseted waist, swaying hips.
And her hand in his, not letting go.
-
time left: 06:22
“This is it.”
You turned to see Jungkook looking around, mouth open, gawking at the entrance of the intricately carved wooden door. It was one of the grander, first-class rooms. The red doors were much farther apart and the sconces here were glided with glass-blown lampshades, casting swirls of orange across the white walls, dimmed now from the late night.
“It was nice to see you again.”
It was, even with the bitter taste in your mouth that seemed to linger.
His eyes came back to you, dark brown and clear, focused on only your face, long black strands framing his cheeks, the small mole underneath his lower lip trembling.
“I hope you have your happiness now, Jungkook.”
You did.
You felt a strange, unmovable pressure on your chest. The time wasn’t up yet. You could still try. You could keep your hold on his hand and drag him into the room and hold him close to you, skin to skin, lips on his, and show him all you’ve learned. You could. You could see it in those eyes. He would follow you now, maybe because of the alcohol, maybe for old times sake, maybe out of impulse and bad choices.
You let go.
You let go, because you didn’t want to be a bad choice.
Not to him, Jeon Jungkook.
“You were my small happiness, back then,” you said softly, feeling yourself smile.
It was better not to have regrets. At the time, even you didn’t know how important he had been. The thought of being withdrawn from that school and not being able to see him again made you fight back for once, and it ended in the very thing you didn’t want. It fucked up your hands, it fucked up your life, but somehow you found yourself here now, in expensive clothes on an expensive boat with expensive tastes, able to make a choice between selfishness or selflessness.
Maybe you hadn’t changed much after all, since you found yourself choosing the latter.
You turned away and pulled your hand out of his.
Or would have, if Jungkook hadn’t grasped your hand tighter, yanking you back and shoving you against the door of your suite. Your hand automatically raised to push him back, but he put his whole weight on your body, sandwiching you between the door and himself, making you gasp, trapped between dead timber and muscular hardness.
Now his face was in your face, breathing hard, dark brown orbs shaking and shining with wetness.
You froze, lips parting.
“You were my happiness too.”
He was panting, warm exhale on your lips.
“Not a small happiness. The happiness.”
He squeezed your hand like you were going to disappear.
“I didn’t know then, but I do now,” Jungkook shuddered, towering over you even in your heels. He stared into your eyes. “Your smile.”
You blinked slowly, confused.
“Your smile. I’ve never seen it reach your eyes.”
Heart racing, suddenly breathless.
“Except when you thought I couldn’t see, like when my back was turned or my face was turned away from you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours, long black hair curtaining your faces, sending you back to the shadows. “I saw it though, in reflections. In windows. In mirrors. In those beakers in the science room.”
Was that so? Had that been you? You made it a point not to smile back then, because there had been nothing to smile about. But maybe… maybe when eyes weren’t on you, maybe when you yourself didn’t notice, but, somehow, Jungkook had noticed.
You realized that your introspection had diverted your attention from him, so you made eye contact again, airless at his closeness. Your eyes and his, lost in sweet dreams.
“I want to kiss you.”
He tilted his head and hesitated.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he said to your lips.
His expression was clouded with shame. It was ugly. It made his handsome features ugly and you didn’t like that. You wanted to make it go away. You closed more distance, fingers pressing down on the back of his hand, your other hand raising and resting on his hip, lashes lowering.
“Then kiss me,” you said to his lips.
-
time left: 06:13
Jungkook kissed her.
From then and now, it was the same.
Euphoria.
But this time, it wasn’t clumsy with colliding teeth and too much tongue that did nothing, sloppy with no purpose. This time, his lips were soft at first and so were hers, breathing in each other’s scent. She smelled warm and musky, like blackberry and evergreens, expensive and lush, but somehow still her, still that girl from back then, comforting and intense, sometimes with the hint of metallic blood, but that never bothered him. Her hand on his hip, stroking it under the layers of fabric, making him shiver, caressing the back of his hand with her fingertips, delicate sigh in his mouth.
The faintest flicker of tongue on the edge of her upper lip, swiping down into his open mouth.
He moaned, feeling the strong wet muscle thrust into his lips, coaxing his tongue, teasing, pressing her body to his, breasts against his chest, their deep open necklines exchanging heat in the air between their skin but not quite touching, and he found himself letting go of her hand, reaching up to grab her breasts.
Her fingers closed around his wrists, forcing him to stop.
He gasped in her mouth, eyes opening.
“They’re not stress balls, Jungkook,” she snickered.
He was breathing hard, ribcage shuddering, heartbeat thundering in his ears, getting louder as he realized her red lipstick was a little messed up, feeling the stickiness on his own lips.
“You need to slow down. You can’t just grope me out in the open.”
His impatience spoke for him.
“Why not?”
His voice was low, octave deepened from lust.
Her lips curved into an amused smirk. “Oh? You have changed. You used to be so worried about someone seeing us. If anything, you should be more worried now, considering your beloved.”
“She’s not my beloved.”
She was still holding his wrists, but her head tilted, watching his eyes carefully. He sucked in a shuddering breath, feeling the guilt.
“We… we thought it would be a good idea. Because our friends told us we look nice together. It would help her career. I wouldn’t have to invest too much into it.”
He felt ashamed, but he didn’t look away because he didn’t want her to think he was lying.
“I never found a smile like yours. I accepted that I never would.”
Her eyes darkened.
“It’s dangerous, Jungkook. Ill-advised.”
He smiled and he didn’t know if it reached his eyes because his vision was blurry.
But he knew it wasn’t a lie.
“You always were. I should have chased you to the ends of the earth, even if you were only a ghost.”
He lifted his hands, hers with his, and cupped her face, running his fingertips over her cheeks, smooth and soft skin, transported back to that moment in the abandoned literature club room, her face cast in an orange glow, actually swirls from glass-blown sconces, but the past and present connected, turning it into rays from the setting sun that lit up her features, and he said what he had said then, because it was the truth.
“You’re really pretty.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You are.”
He leaned forward and kissed the side of her lips gently.
She chuckled.
“You really are something, Jeon Jungkook.”
Her hands let go and she reached into the deep neckline of her dress, plucking something from the corset. His eyes widened as she pulled out the key card from between her breasts, smirk dancing on her lips. She winked at him.
“A lady has many hiding places.”
She flicked her wrist and inserted it into the door, unlocking it without looking.
The door opened and they stepped into her room.
-
time left: 06:02
“Hnnnnnnngh…���
“Dude can snore.”
“Help me turn him to his side. Don’t want him to vomit in his mouth and asphyxiate,” Kim Namjoon grunted, helped by Kim Seokjin, jerking Kim Taehyung’s body to the side. They backed up and Taehyung immediately flopped to his back, snoring away.
Seokjin thinned his mouth into a line. “Seriously?”
“Ah, here, let’s roll up the towels and use them to prop him up.”
“He’s not as cute as she is.”
“Well, she also doesn’t get piss drunk... ever.”
“Still a better cuddle buddy. Comes with built-in pillows.”
Namjoon blinked at Seokjin and shook his head, letting the odd comment slide. They managed to jam the bath towels next to Taehyung and force him to lay on his side, placing a pillow in his arms that he immediately hugged, squeezing it tightly. The snoring lessened as well.
“Guess we should go back,” Namjoon sighed, rubbing the back of his short hair.
Seokjin scoffed. “No, we shouldn’t. They’re probably all over each other as we speak.”
Namjoon frowned, raised an eyebrow at the other man. “Really? I don’t know. She seemed very hesitant about it. She said she didn’t love him.”
Seokjin snorted, somehow still elegant with his handsome face. “You really believe that?”
“That’s what she said.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “That’s what everybody says when they don’t want to admit they’re in love with someone.”
“That’s also what people say when they are, factually, not in love with someone.”
The black-haired man raised his hands and held up his index fingers, wriggling them in the air and bending them ninety-degrees, squiggling them around each other and poking the tips together repeatedly. Namjoon blinked at him.
“What are you doing?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes as if it was despairingly obvious what he was doing. “A visual representation of what they’re doing right now.”
Namjoon contorted his face in confusion, raising an eyebrow.
“… Becoming worms…?”
Seokjin groaned. “Having sex, Namjoon.”
“… How is that…?”
-
time left: 05:53
The door to his dreams unsealed and they tumbled inside.
The orange glow of the hallway lights spilled into the room, bleeding into the cool glow that came from the open windows, curtains pulled back to reveal the shimmering sea and bright moon, a contrast of artificial dusk and true nightfall. She pulled him in by his belt, hooking two fingers under the leather, step by sweeping step, grace that made him breathless, orange and silver and shadow, all mixing together, and then the door closed and then the sea and the moon replaced the sunset dreams.
It was a heavy thunk, closing with finality.
The room had many ornate mirrors in it to make the room seem bigger. The had gold vintage frames of different shapes and sizes, reflecting the contents of the room, the large bed and red silk sheets, the black leather chairs and black marble table bolted down to the floor, the matching marble vanity laid out with several black leather cosmetic bags, all zipped up neatly. The had small details on them – red zippers, silver locks, the designer logo engraved into the leather. The suitcases leaning against the wall matched the cosmetic bags, three of them, one larger than the first two.
Jungkook breathed her name, raising his hand, fingers spread.
Her fingertips touched his, halting him.
“Let me do it.”
He spied his expression in one of the mirrors.
The silver moonlight lit up his face and his eyes, reflecting the lust and trust in them.
He looked back to her and nodded.
“Okay.”
Glamour. Fantasy. Descent.
That was the only way he could describe the way she moved, glamour in the way her hand slowly retreated from his, a steady wave and sweep, clearly deliberate. Even in smeared lipstick, the small smirk was present on those lips, stepping around him with a swing of her hips and gentle clicks of her black patent leather heels, the slinky fabric flowing with her actions and also clinging to her body at the same time, using the arc of her stride to spread open the high slit. Letting him watch. He almost turned to follow but she placed a few fingers on his arm, purring softly.
“Don’t move.”
Fantasy, the way she slipped behind him like a shadow, and then Jungkook had to look up into the mirrors, catching glimpses of her behind him. There was no music, but she moved as if there was. If anything, the sound of the waves seemed to form its own music, and he was suddenly more aware of it, the splashes against the hull of the boat mixing with the bass of his heartbeat and the wispiness of her breath, stepping up behind him, body heat making him gasp, looking into a mirror to his left, a window illuminating his right, her hands slipping between the space of his ribs and upper arms, fingers spread like wings, warm exhale on his neck.
No words.
Just a simple kiss to the base of his head and her lips murmuring his name on his skin.
Descent.
One by one, teasing the buttons apart, her fingers ghosting the exposed skin, his heart racing as he watched those hands, peeling apart the button placket, unwrapping him like a decadent sweet. He watched his own expression framed by long curls of black, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, small mole below quivering, seeing more and more of his chest being exposed, somewhat self-conscious, but there was something spellbinding about only being able to see her hands and forearms, pointed black nails decorated with crystals that caught the light, undoing all the buttons until she reached his pants.
“I can–”
“Shh. Don’t let your impatience prevent you from enjoying your own striptease.”
His cheeks heated a little and he lowered his hands, breath hiking as she firmly gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it out. Jungkook took a step back, his back hitting her chest, and gasped again, feeling the softness, but she adjusted her position so her body wasn’t touching his anymore, chiding him playfully.
“Never had someone take off your clothes, Jungkook?” she chuckled against his neck, making his hairs stand on end.
“Ah, well…”
He watched those deft fingers undo the last two buttons. Then they spread apart his black shirt, reaching in, fingertips spreading out over his abs and pecs, tracing the contours of his muscles, switching between her nails and the pads of her fingertips, prickling and dainty. He couldn’t sure her face, but he saw his, and only now registered his own moans, so absorbed by her sensual movement and her touch that he didn’t even realize the embarrassing sounds falling from his lips.
“Not… since you…”
She snickered. “Seriously? What fool wouldn’t want to tear the clothes off this lovely body?”
He could feel and see his flush in the mirror. He looked away quickly, down to her hands exploring his body. “Well, I just… figured it’s easier if I do it. No one has ever been like you.”
“Hmm.”
His hands raised. He traced her knuckles, causing her to pause, caressing small circles on his sternum.
“You want to tear the clothes off my body?” he breathed, not daring to see his own reflection and know his reaction to whatever her answer was.
“I do.”
He placed his left hand on hers, heart beating faster and faster.
“Not tonight though.”
He pulled her palm away from his racing heart, not wanting her to know her effect on him, letting it linger beside his ribcage.
“Tonight, I will show you all I’ve learned, because I was always a better student than you, class representative.”
He found himself laughing a little, suddenly sheepish. “Yeah. Your name was always in the top five percent. I was pretty bad at school. I don’t know why everyone voted for–oooh…”
Her fingers touched his nipples, rubbing delicately, sending strange shivers all over him, shallowing his breath, making him look up and see his dark nipples being teased by expert hands. Her nails nicked them lightly and he whined in his throat, feeling them harden against her fingertips, surprised at the arousal from the simple touch, something he never paid attention to or cared about. His hair was covering part of his face.
Jungkook reached up and pushed his hair back, pressing his chest into those hands.
Saw one of her eyes behind his head, sharp and sultry with winged liner, twinkling as she watched him.
“I voted for you because I thought it would be funny since you weren’t even trying.”
He didn’t really have a response for that, too busy looking at his own face and body, shivering as she tweaked his nipples and pushed them in slow circles, his arms descending to lower the shadows, letting them suspend by his sides.
She shifted beside him and half of her lips appeared, on the toes of her heels, whispering close to his ear, seductive and dark.
“You were good-looking then, and you’re even more handsome now, Jungkook.”
The sound of the ocean, the silver moonlight shining off her blue-black hair giving her skin a surreal quality, almost doll-like, the mirror reflecting his expression, desire and anticipation.
She removed her hands and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking it down.
He inhaled sharply and her face disappeared.
Dress shirt stripped from his body and flung away, the crisp black fabric flaring out, a shadow cast aside.
Jungkook spun around.
-
Does this man know the meaning of calm the fuck down?
You rolled your eyes inwardly as you witnessed Jungkook turn around, facing you again even though you told him not to the move. He had always been like this, overzealous, but he didn’t seem as clumsy as before, although…
He grabbed your tits.
Hah.
He blinked rapidly, surprised. “Huh?”
You shook your head and knocked his hands away, sighing. “Pasties, Jungkook. To cover my nipples.”
You reached into your dress and scooped your breasts out, trapping them between the v-neckline. His eyes bulged slightly when he saw the smooth black satin circles flush to the apex of your breasts. They fit perfectly, seamless so they were unseen even under the slinky fabric of the black gown.
“W-Whoa…”
“What? I’m a burlesque dancer. Of course, I have fancy nipple covers. This is basic wardrobe.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen any like these. They look like they’re part of your body.”
You tutted. “Obviously, they aren’t. You know I have nipples.”
And you reached up and peeled them off, flinging them aside carelessly.
Jungkook gasped, staring at your nipples with wide eyes.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen nipples,” you scowled. “You better not be a virgin with how hot you’ve become.”
His hands shot up and you grabbed his wrists again, forcing them back down.
Jungkook whined, eyes shifting back up to you, begging to touch them.
You stiffened slightly. What kind of reaction was that?
“They’re so big,” he whispered huskily, visibly shuddering, shaking with the craving to touch them. “I remember they were soft. And…” His breathing hitched, trembling in your hands. “I remember they tasted so good. Amazing. No one has ever tasted as good as you.”
His eyes flickered back down, biting his lip. He tried to break free, but you held. A single glance exchanged and you let go, realizing he was going to do something other than attack them. Instead, he collected the straps of your dress and pulled them back up, slowly, moaning as the slinky black fabric skimmed over your breasts, your prominent nipples sticking out, hardening from the light friction.
“Fuck, that’s so fucking sexy.”
Well, maybe he did have some appreciation for the visual after all.
“You see why I need the pasties.”
He pulled the straps up, whimpering as he watched your nipples strain against your dress, lifting your breasts in the confines of the fabric and lowering them, lifting, lowering, repeating the gesture.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Jungkook… are you bouncing my tits on purpose?”
His dark brown orbs darted to you. Guilty.
“Um… y-you won’t let me touch them…”
You weren’t sure whether to sigh or to laugh. You just shook your head, backing up out of his grasp. His hands were still outstretched, lips forming a small pout. You almost regretted it, but his expression quickly changed as you casually flicked down the straps, freeing your breasts again, dropping his hands and linking them together under his waist, waiting, now invested in what you had in store.
Oh.
He chewed on his lip and gave you an expectant look.
A flutter in your chest.
The side of your lips curved upward, tongue sliding out to graze the edge of your upper lip before disappearing.
You reached back, leisurely undoing the fastenings of the corset, sweeping your legs so the high slit flared apart, turning around, letting him witness the slow undress. Every action was deliberate, the wide arc of your leg moving the skirt aside to prevent you from tripping as you turned without using your hands, the wide stance of your feet to relieve pressure on your heels and to prevent the dress from sliding down too soon, and even the position of your fingers, poised so you could run a nail down your spine as two of them pinched the hook-and-eye and separated them, traveling down to the top of your ass. Every movement was thought out, details that made up the bigger picture, constructing your ultimate goal.
A sensual striptease.
You caught his reaction in a mirror to your right.
His sparkling brown eyes were wide, jaw dropped.
A lot of people had seen you take off your clothes, but no one made you feel as satisfied as Jeon Jungkook, then in his school uniform and now shirtless in his slacks, hands twisting in front of his crotch.
Then you saw your face.
You were smiling.
You really did smile when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Another glimpse at his face and you found him staring at you, silver moonlight glinting off his eyebrow piercing and flooding into his eyes, bringing out the stars within.
You released your hand and your dress tumbled to the ground.
He sucked in a shuddering breath, your name drifting from his lips.
“H… Holy shit…”
You did have an amazing waist-to-ass ratio.
Proper corset training and specific hit workouts to perfect your craft contributed. You couldn’t simply be pretty. You had to be strong and flexible to do the stunts and to walk in your red bottoms for the entire performance. Christian Louboutin didn’t make his shoes to be comfy. He made heels to make feet look enticing and sexy.
The price to pay for glamour and vanity.
It did give you some powerful calves though.
You lifted one shoe, flashing that blazingly red sole of your heel, balancing on one leg for a second.
This was to prevent you from getting tangled on your now fallen dress. You tightened your core, shifting your weight, knowing it would give Jungkook an irresistible view of your plump derriere in your high French-cut black satin panties, the particular style adding illusion to the already stark proportion.
In short, your ass looked fucking fabulous.
You stepped out of your dress, one leg, then the other, taking care not to step on it, adding a little flourish of your hands to create those body lines, ever the performer. You glanced at the mirror and was pleased to find Jungkook hadn’t moved, although his hands were now firmly open, palms down on his crotch, whimpering in his throat.
“Soon,” you promised, and you would keep it.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
You turned your fingers inward, hooking each index finger on the sides of your panties, rocking your hips slowly, lowering your lashes, following the beat of the sea, tugging down the right side a few centimeters and then the left, listening to his breathing and controlling yours. You bent over slowly at the hips, sticking your ass out, listening to his low moan as your glistening slit was revealed, sliding your undergarments down your thighs and calves, placing them carefully onto the floor.
You gradually straightened, breathing out, keeping it as one smooth motion.
You stepped out of your panties.
Now you were clad in only your black patent Louboutins and black diamond choker.
This time, you found your reflection in the mirror to delicately correct your smeared red lipstick with your fingertips. Good enough. You nodded at your reflection. The corners of your mouth curved upwards.
You turned to face him, showing Jungkook your smile.
-
This smile was real.
The smile she only showed when she was with him. He didn’t know if that was a valid thought or not, but he liked to think so. Besides, no smile meant as much as this one. That he was sure of, because he had been chasing this smile for all these years before finally accepting that he would never find another one like it. It was too precious to belong to anyone else.
His smile.
If his dick wasn’t trying to rip open his pants, Jungkook might have cried seeing it for the first time.
He couldn’t speak, too afraid he was going to lose it right then and there.
She walked towards him.
No, walk wasn’t the correct word. Strode, strut, glided, fuck, he didn’t know, she just moved as fluidly as a shadow and water combined, silver moonlight glistening off her skin and her diamonds, and he knew he would never love the mere act of walking more than when he watched her move.
She stilled.
He stopped breathing.
Her foot raised, toes tracing the inside of the heel, raising the pointed toe, balancing it on the stiletto, and she flicked it backward, causing it to tumble and somersault backward, falling to its side.
Fuck.
She thought of everything.
She balanced on tiptoe and did the same to the other shoe, discarding it with a swift tick.
He made a less-than-elegant noise of her name mixed with a needy whine.
“P… Please…”
Jungkook was quite sure he was a hair’s breath away from ripping off his pants to get some relief.
She finally made her way to stand in front of him. Smile so close now, emphasized by painted lips.
Her hands closed over his, peeling them away from his crotch, holding them loosely. She leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. Deep, meaningful, nothing flashy. Drew back, still smiling.
This smile.
He wanted to protect it forever.
“I should have told you that I love you, but I didn’t know it then,” he whispered.
She chuckled.
“I know now.”
She was lowering herself as he spoke, tilting her head at him, inviting him to continue. Getting to her knees, positioning her feet right under her ass, neat and orderly. His hands dropped, leaving hers on his belt, undoing the buckle, her gaze still on him. Looking up at him with amusement, diamonds glittering on her throat, perky tits and nipples, thighs on display, kneeling in front of his crotch.
“I love you.”
Jungkook meant it, every syllable.
He never meant it more in her life.
“I know.”
What?
She casually undid his belt and slid the closure open, unzipping his slacks.
“Wait… what?” he sputtered, blinking rapidly.
“I know you love me,” she repeated calmly.
Jungkook had time for a single blink before his pants were yanked down to his knees. He started, almost falling over, but her hands came up behind his legs and gripped them, keeping him upright.
“Careful,” she purred, stroking the backs of his thighs.
He jerked his head down, hardly able to breathe, shock blossoming as she leaned forward, hot breath warming his black boxer briefs. Eyes on his face, pink tongue extending.
“O-Oh, fuuuck…”
She planted her tongue over his hardness and soaked it with saliva, wetting the fabric and tracing the outline, molding his underwear to his length, sending him into gasping shivers, heat from her tongue and then her lips closing, blowing a cool stream over it, hot and cold, sensation and deprivation, too much and not enough, placing kisses all over and he flinched with every one, savoring the feeling, the touch that was familiar and unfamiliar, everything he wanted.
“W-Wait… that’s dirty…”
“Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.”
Not as dirty as the things I want to do to you.
Pants racking his torso, looking down, and it was the same but different, her lips kissing up his abs, his chest, back to his face, holding him to her, lipstick smeared and now on his skin. Open mouth to elegantly parted lips, gasping as she collected her breasts and pressed her nipples to his chest, squashing the softness to his pecs.
“Spit on my cleavage,” she breathed.
“W-What?”
She raised an eyebrow, knowing that he heard her perfectly well, squeezing her breasts together and rubbing them on his chest, sending the electric sensation of her large nipples dragging across his heartbeat, rolling her shoulders to the beat of the sea, bathed in silver moonlight.
“Spit on my tits, Jungkook.”
“I… c-couldn’t… do that to you…” he moaned, pitch hiking with pleasure.
She didn’t chide him to cover his mouth this time, instead smirking wider, licking her teeth. “Sure, you can. Do it, golden boy. Spit on me.”
She hooked a leg over his hip and grinded her crotch to his wet one, causing him to whine, knowing his cock was so close to her pussy but not yet skin to skin, the soaked fabric barrier driving him insane, his hands coming up to grip her waist and press her down on him, staring into her eyes, inhale shaky and erratic.
She smiled, teasing, sculptural, his.
“You trust me?”
Jungkook was drunk on something he didn’t understand and it was love.
“Yeah…”
He leaned forward, capturing her lips, an intense, burning kiss. She smiled into his kiss, and he knew she was aware of his nervousness, but she remained patient as she always was, pressing back daintily, taking his breath away. He broke apart, trembling.
She nodded, telling him it was okay.
He collected saliva at the tip of his tongue and looked down, spitting into her cleavage.
It shot out of his mouth, splattering over the swell of her breasts and onto his own chest. His ears burned, self-conscious at the dirty act, but she moaned deliciously, backing up, his saliva dripping down and stuck to the inside curve of her breasts. He had a moment to appreciate the image, the most beautiful woman in the world with her diamond choker and his spit on her tits glistening in the moonlight reflected by the sea.
“Wow.”
That was all he could say as the image burned into his memory.
She smirked, falling to her knees, tugging his black boxer briefs down his thighs, his stiff cock popping out, bobbing in the air at the suddenness of its release, and then trapped once more, except this time not in drenched fabric but in her soft, saliva-covered breasts – or his saliva, depending on how he thought about it – but he couldn’t think about it, abrupt pleasure shooting up his spine, throwing his head back in a moan, eyes darting everywhere, surrounded by mirrors, reflections of his face, his long black hair a wild mess, his facial features consumed by wanton lust, his throbbing cock jammed between her breasts and her body sliding up and down, her large nipples rubbing against his crotch and thighs, oh, fuck, the sensation insane, soft and rough and wet, her perfectly pinned hair leaving only the curls at the ends bouncing from her effort.
She spit down his length, adding to the lubrication and her name burst out of his mouth in an erratic groan.
“F-Fuck…!”
She pushed his cock up, almost uncomfortable, but then her mouth closed around the tip, tongue swirling, and he was lost again, ecstasy as she switched to blowing him, pressing her breasts to his thighs, smearing the saliva on them too, covering his cock in red lipstick, soaking every centimeter with saliva, running her tongue over the veins and the head, his hands clenching into fists, close, so close, and then she popped her mouth off, leaving him near tears and in whines.
“P-Please, let me cum, please…”
“I want you to cum on my necklace,” she panted, planting his cock in her cleavage again, lacing her fingers over it, pressing the head down into the slick skin, shock of her words and the escalating pleasure, his chin lowering and staring down at glittering black diamonds and the engorged tip of his length popping in and out of her breasts.
“You want me to… cum on your necklace…?” he echoed hollowly, in utter disbelief.
“Fuck yes, I do,” she grinned, tip of her tongue flickering at the edge of her lips. “Cum on my diamonds, Jungkook.”
Well, fuck.
This was the worst surreal and hottest moment of his life.
He clenched his jaw and thrust his hips into her chest, adding to the stimulation, chasing it, seeing her grin grow, devilish and devious, squeezing him tighter, faster, faster, faster, his hands and his body shaking, gripped by pleasure and her hold, panting her name over and over, his prayer, his drug, his lifeline, trying to hold out, the line inside him pulled taut, thinner and thinner, snapping.
“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
His hips jolted and he forced them upward, her head tipping back as the thick red tip popped out, twitching and splattering thick streams of white, painting the black diamonds with his white orgasm, clinging to the jewels and her collarbones, dripping down, covering her with his strong and masculine scent. She lifted her body, trapping his jolting cock in her breasts, and he moaned helplessly, rutting against her skin, sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins, uncontrollable flinching and shuddering as more dribbled out, milked out by the tightness.
“Oooooooh, f-fuck… fuck, I’m s-so sorry…” he gasped out, wincing at the mess he made.
“Ah, shut up, Jungkook.”
In awe, he watched her back up slightly, strings of his orgasm all over her breasts, chest, and diamonds.
She smiled and dipped her fingers in it, coating them with his cum and bringing them to her smeared red lips, licking them off one by one, pink tongue slipping between her elegant digits, moaning as she drank up his taste.
Eyes on his, drunk on him.
-
time left: --:--
Kim Namjoon leaned against Kim Seokjin’s shoulder, listening to the other man’s deep breathing.
They were sitting on the plush green couch in Kim Taehyung’s room.
The night was quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves coming through the open window, a light breeze as Namjoon watched the moon reflect off the ocean. Seokjin had already fallen asleep, head resting against the back of the sofa, tired from the day’s events and needing the rest. Namjoon felt the drowsiness beginning to weigh on him too, using Seokjin’s wide shoulder as his headrest. He had opened the window to prevent the room from getting too stuffy.
It would have been more comfortable to be in that giant bed with the one he was paid to protect, but he hoped she was in good hands now.
He smiled to himself, watching the silver moonlight dance off the choppy waters.
His mind went back to those moments, moments when he had to hold her shoulders and remind her of who and where she was, moments when he sat and waited as she clenched her teeth and a skilled medical tattoo artist filled in those white scars all over her hands, moments of when she finally sat him and Seokjin down and told them why she sometimes woke up at night, screaming and crying, yelling the names of past demons.
She had told them she was sorry, sorry for being weak, sorry for not taking responsibility.
Seokjin had scoffed, smacking her lightly on the head. “Are you an idiot? You have been through enough. Stop it with that nonsense. It’s part of our job, so let us do our job.”
After that, Namjoon would make it a point to check up on her at night, reaching over to soothe her brow as she slept, relaxing her face with gentle touches. He wanted to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare, and it became a habit, until Seokjin too elbowed himself in the bed, muttering that she always got the best digs anyway, so why shouldn’t he? He was handsome enough, after all.
They only accompanied her to events or appearances.
It bothered Namjoon to think that sometimes she was alone in her own home, waking up screaming and crying, and that he couldn’t be there.
He wondered what would come of this.
Jeon Jungkook.
Did he know that if he broke her heart that two ‘big-scary-dudes-with-massive-shoulders’ were going to find his ass and rearrange it?
Hm.
Namjoon closed his eyes, letting the night take him under its wing.
-
time left: error
The black diamond choker was on the vanity, covered in Jungkook’s cum.
Both of your clothes were on the floor, shoes, pants, dress, undergarments, strewn all over, a mess, along with a now cold, wet, white bath towel that smelled like semen and saliva. It had what was left of your red lipstick on it.
One of the designer cosmetic bags was open.
There were condoms scattered on the bed now, thrown over the red silk sheets.
Jungkook was holding your hands, palms up, tenderly kissing them.
It felt strange, his soft lips on your scars.
Most people didn’t realize it. It wasn’t something they looked for or thought to think twice about, because to them, your hands had always been like that. It would be rude to comment or mention it even if they had noticed.
But Jungkook had known your hands before they became like this.
“It’s why I stopped going to school.”
He kissed the pads of your fingertips, looking at you with those dark brown orbs.
“Did something bad happen?”
You smiled, somewhere between sad and apologetic.
“I wanted to make sure that I could still see you, but unfortunately I ended up doing the exact opposite.”
He squeezed your hands tightly, giving you his own smile. “Still, you came back to me.”
You chuckled ruefully. “Not with the best intentions.”
The silver moonlight highlighted all your favorite features, the cupid’s bow of his lips, the tiny mole underneath, the wrinkle of his nose with his smile, the stars in his eyes.
“You’ve always been dangerous and ill-advised for me, but I always liked that about you.”
You arched a brow. “Hm, you were a shitty class representative, huh?”
Jungkook shrugged. “You weren’t really a class delinquent either.”
You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. “Look at you. What kind of class presentative gets all these tattoos?” you teased, dancing your fingers up his right forearm and elbow, tracing the outlines of the script and graphics, following the swirls of the clouds and flower petals with your nails, listening to his shallow breath at your touch. “And an eyebrow piercing? Are you trying to tell everyone you’re one of the cool kids now?”
His lips twisted into a small frown. “Am I cool?”
You shrugged. “Every time I hear about the cool kids in our grade, it’s just about how they got knocked up too early or how they dropped out of university, so you tell me.”
“I haven’t gotten knocked up.”
You gave him a look, bordering on impatience.
“Wait, I mean–”
You raised a hand and planted it on his chest, pushing him down on the bed.
“Enough. Stop talking, please.”
You crawled over his body, placing your hands by his head, looking down at him. Jungkook stared up at you, long black hair splayed over the pillows. He was definitely a man now, sharp jawline, manicured brows, slight dark circles from long nights, and, as you leaned down, expensive cologne now, still light and clean but with a twist of sharpness and sweet fruit, still with the same warmth. Your lips pressed against his jaw, leaving kisses, sinking your weight onto him, skin to skin, his gasps under you, and now it seemed like you were back in that time, his teenage self and your teenage self, the same eagerness as his arms surrounded you, running his hands down your back, but now he added his nails, making you hum in approval. He did it more, scratching his nails over your spine as you kissed his jaw, his throat, his ear, jingling his earrings with your tongue, whispering against his skin.
“No one has ever been what you are to me.”
You didn’t bother using past tense, because it wasn’t.
You sat down on his thigh, his semi-hard cock twitching against your skin, turned on by your kisses and your tongue toying with his ear.
“You weren’t even very good, you know. You were kinda shit. Too impatient.”
He shuddered, tensing his forearms against your sides.
“I’m b-better now…” he whimpered, turning into a moan as you bit his ear and rubbed your wetness on his thigh, painting it with your juices. You kept it slow, leisurely, with even pressure.
“Still…”
You lifted your head, bringing your fingers inward, slipping them into his hair, pushing it back, caressing his temple with your thumbs.
“I have loved you all this time, Jungkook, even back then when I didn’t know what love was, when I was only chasing a feeling that was different from all the others.”
His eyes widened, stunned by your words.
“Ah, nevertheless, I came back too late.”
“No.”
His hands on your back, holding you tightly to him.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he whispered, words from long ago, bringing them back. “And I will.”
He raised his forehead and touched yours.
“I know it’s not fair, I know it’s bad, I know it’s terrible, but I’ll be fucked up if you can’t be right here, with me.”
His lips to yours, small kisses and closed eyes, hiding his tears behind his lashes.
“You are the happiness, and if you continue to love me, I will never let you go.”
That’s what Jungkook said, but the sentiment was slightly interrupted by his cock being so hard that it was actually raising your thigh up into the air.
You smiled against his lips, chuckling.
“I guess I’ll bring a towel when you get her cocktail splashed into your face.”
“Maybe two. She has a lot of internet friends.”
“Hm.”
You lifted your head, smirking.
“Well, I can’t say it would be the first relationship I’ve ruined, although those were far more indirect.”
-
Jungkook tried to make the moment romantic, but her naked body was on top of him with her wet pussy rubbing on his thigh and his dick was coming back to life right in the middle of his speech.
Still, he couldn’t really complain, because at the moment he was ripping open a condom, on his knees between her legs, rolling it down, eyes roaming over her body lines, poised and elegant and sexy, her hair flared out on the pillows, still neatly pinned up, some kind of sorcery, but that didn’t surprise Jungkook, for she had always had her spell on him and he was better for it.
“You want missionary?” she teased.
He bit his lip, nodding.
“I want to watch your face.”
Her tongue flickered out on the edge of her upper lip, accenting the high point of her smirk.
“Good, then I can watch yours.”
He positioned himself in front of her, pausing for a second, unsure now, but she simply grinned and reached between her legs, one hand on his length and the other on his hip, digging her nails into his ass and shoving him inside her.
“Oh, fuck!”
She seemed highly amused, but he was gone, sudden tightness and wetness enveloping him, pitching forward and catching himself on his palms, sinking into red silk, the intensity bursting from his core and washing over him, shuddering and gasping as she gripped his ass with both hands and sank him down into her pussy, down, down, drowning in the feeling, diving into the depths of pleasure, fuck, he felt it everywhere, her walls clenching and wrapped around his length, the sensitive head rubbing against the ridges, and the emotions that rushed through him as he looked into her eyes, a little humiliated that it affected him so much, a little shocked at how good it felt even with the condom, and a lot of lust and trust and love, all rolling into one, and she purred his name, smooth and silky and gentle, and he couldn’t help himself, slowly rolling his hips and smacking down hard, burying himself to the base, eyelids fluttering, feeling it radiate over his body.
“Too... hard?” he choked out, trying to be considerate, desperate not to fuck up.
She shook her head, snickering.
“Not even close.”
“How can I–?”
But she didn’t let him finish, tapping the mandala flower tattoo on his right elbow and he raised his arms, at loss for words and breath when she raised her legs to his shoulders and tugged his forearms back down, his hands landing on the bed once more.
Oh no.
This was tighter.
“Fuck me, Jungkook, and make it rough.”
I can’t talk or I will blow my load in two seconds.
He nodded, tensing his jaw, and smacked his crotch down, her thighs smacking against his chest.
Oh, fuck me.
He wished he could sound less desperate and less ruined, but he simply didn’t have the capacity for that any longer, tumbling into a series of wild moans as he built up the pace, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him, too much sensation, soft thighs, wet tightness squeezing his throbbing length, her hands on his upper arms, holding on tightly, his name falling from her mouth along with her erotic exhale. He loved every sound she made, every single one, her moan, her hiss, her growl, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, that’s it, give it to me, Jungkook, loved the way she looked at him, a mixture of bliss and slyness, loved the sound their bodies made, a harsh rhythmic smack, louder and louder, messing up the sheets, her head tipping back, eyes closing, fuck, yes, gonna cum if you keep going like that, so he did, hard, firm, powerful slaps of skin-to-skin, feeling so good but holding himself back, biting his lip hard and moaning in his throat, not willing to orgasm until he made her do so, at least twice.
Jungkook was being ridiculous, he knew, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he lost it too soon during his first time inside her.
“Mmm, fuck, Jungkook, fuck!”
A sharp throb and then a cascading effect, brutal massages of his length, and he didn’t even realize it, pausing for a second from the strength of her orgasm, his cock clenched all over and squeezed, shocking pleasure that made his eyes roll back, struggling with every fiber of his being to not explode, edging himself by ceasing his thrust, and then he drew back and rammed back into her, clawing up the sheets to press her further down into the bed, nearly bending her in half, but she didn’t seem to mind, gripping his arms and raising her hips to meet him, deeper now, the head being constricted even tighter by this changed angle, him sucking in a deep inhale, smelling blackberry, evergreen, and sex, the sweet smell of her pussy, reminding him of sitting on the bus on his way home and catching that scent on his hands and clothes, not regretting it, loving her mark on him.
It was better now.
Better because he was actually in her pussy.
And better because her teeth caught the side of her lower lip, a second of lost control, lashes lowering, moan in her mouth, his name, his name, his name leaking from her lips.
“Oh, Jungkook…”
He would never tire of it.
Never.
It burst again, a lewd squelch, and the insides of his thighs were soaked with viscous honey, clinging to his balls, violent throbs around his jerking length and Jungkook was gone, gone, everything accumulating at the peak and shattering down, his deep moan flooding the room, shooting his orgasm into the condom as his quivering cock was clenched all around, unbearable euphoria that he welcomed, letting it consume every nerve and vibrate through him, a feeling he never wanted to end.
He let it swallow him, her ocean, her moonlight, her night, and he promised himself that he would never leave.
-
All in all, Jeon Jungkook hadn’t changed much. That was alright. It was clear that you both had unfinished business in the past that was being hashed out right now.
Through sex, because how else?
He was behind you, both of you kneeling on the bed, his breath on your skin, murmuring your name, wonderment and desire, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulders and neck.
“You can bite me, you know.”
He nipped at your skin experimentally. You pinched his finger on your upper arm, the little sheepish emoji on his middle right. He squeaked and bit harder. You hummed approvingly, lowering your hand.
“You’re turning me into a crazy person,” Jungkook mumbled to the curve of your neck.
“You were already a crazy person. You just pretend you’re not.”
“That’s not true…”
You gently peeled his right hand from your arm and yanked him forward. He inhaled sharply, hard chest hitting your back as you tugged his arm forward, curving it around you.
“What non-crazy person blacks out the inner part of their elbow and tattoos the bone on the outer part as well?” you accused, rubbing his muscular forearm against your nipples, smirking at his moan, his shiver traveling through your back and to the sparks of pleasure radiating from your breasts at the lovely friction.
“Um…”
That was as far as he gave you as an answer because he had no good answers.
“Mhm.”
His hand curved around your left breast and he ran his fingers over it, tugging at your nipple. You leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Well, maybe you had been a bit harsh. He had changed. Less clumsy now, attaining his own irresistible sensuality that he probably wasn’t even aware of, considering the wavering in his tone.
“You’ve probably had better than me, huh…”
“You would be surprised at the complete inadequacy of the human race when it comes to sex, Jungkook. Most people don’t give two shits about listening to their partner’s wants.”
He pinched your nipple and you moaned, rubbing your ass against his crotch.
“You always do everything I want and even things I didn’t even know I wanted,” he mumbled.
His cock was getting the hint with every rock of your hips, rousing at the soft friction. You listened to his rapid breathing, amused, the amusement turning into fond irritation as you felt his free hand slide between your bodies, tucking his hardening length between your ass cheeks, now slowly and non-discreetly humping you.
Well.
Can’t say you were surprised.
“You’re not that hard to read, Jungkook.”
He was leaking all over the top of your ass, ramming the head into your tailbone, now both hands on your chest, forgetting to answer, too absorbed in touching you, tugging at your nipples in time with his rocking hips, lips back to your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving marks. There was power in his hold, passion and desperation, a needy whine vibrating in his throat, faster, harder, pinching your nipples and rubbing the tips, pulling slightly, pleasure from his lips and his hands, your own reaching back and clawing at the small of his back, leaving scratches, yes, please, harder, mark me, make me yours, and you chuckled at his declaration, you were always mine, Jungkook, and he moaned your name in affirmation, licking up your neck, hot shaking breath ghosting your ear.
“Wanna fuck you from behind.”
You sunk your nails into his skin and brought your fingers outward, flicking your wrists to leave sharp lines of lust, his moan in your wake.
“Do it,” you drawled, voice saturated with need.
He pushed you down and your caught yourself with your hands, clutching fistfuls of red silk. You heard the rip of another condom and his groan as he encased his aching length, one hand on your ass, and you spread your legs, his knees fitting between them, the head grazing your wet opening and he slid in with a shudder, filling you up and stretching you out, a little pain that dissipated as he squeezed your ass with two hands, sighing with satisfaction with you.
“I know I said I want to kiss you all the time, and I do,” he panted, stalling.
You smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Jungkook looked back at you and he reached forward, driving deeper into you, making you mewl for him. He plucked the pins from your hair, one by one, undoing the perfection, tossing them aside as he spoke, shrouding your shoulders and face with cool-toned black, surreal and glamorous.
“But I think I’ve decided I also want to fuck you all the time.”
You smirked. “You don’t take much convincing, I must say.”
He eased the last pin from your hair and flicked it aside.
You heard it fall to the floor.
That one wouldn’t be found in the morning.
He grinned. “Maybe I already knew you would be amazing.”
Instead of replying, you leaned forward and then smacked your ass back into his crotch.
Jungkook reeled, hand flying back to your hip, grabbing it tightly as you roughly pushed back into him, his natural response being to thrust forward, compounding the pleasure for you and for him, looking forward again and tipping your head back, letting go, moaning for him, his hardness twitching with your sound, loud and getting louder, bodies tangled, bed creaking, clutching your ass for dear life. You lifted one hand and brought beside your hip and Jungkook gripped your forearm, your body naturally dropping lower, deepening each thrust, and that was it, the uncontrollable need resonating in his deep voice, forcefully pounding you into the mattress, thighs, crotch, balls slapping into your lower half, carnal and wild and visceral, his name and your name mixing together, filling the room with the sight, sound, and smell of sex, so strong, fuck, he was so fucking strong, and so were you, a shock every time your bodies connected, until you were wailing with the ferocity of orgasm, squirming and clutching his forearm as he held yours, clenching around his length, but this time he didn’t stop, fucking you through it, gasping for air.
“Oh fuck, yes, fuck, do it again, cum for me again, fuck, feels so fucking good, feels like you’re choking my cock…”
And he brought it out of you again, your right hand punched into the sheets, your left in his hold, moaning for him, Jungkook, fuck, Jungkook, for him then, him now, him forever, ecstasy and elation, hitting a high you thought didn’t even exist, lust and trust and love, raising your torso and slamming your palm onto the headboard, rattling the whole damn bed.
“Fuck!”
Slamming back onto his cock and squeezing hard, Jungkook gasping at the suddenness of the harsh throbs around his length, jolting inside you and spilling another into the condom, your head whipping to the side, spotting a mirror and there he was, head thrown back, long black hair touching his shoulders, open mouth, eyes rolled back, chest shuddering, your name a shaky moan, holding you tight, his right arm travelling, wrapping around you and lifting you up, and then it was you in the mirror, your body against his, skin to skin, his dark brown orbs shifting down, feeling your eyes on him, and then he was watching your reflections, seeing your joined bodies, panting in unison, both sweaty and spent.
You smiled at him, lit up by moonlight and mirrors.
He smiled back.
And then his hand was on your chin and he turned your head to face him, tilting his head and kissing your smile, seeing it not its reflection but the real thing, no longer only when you thought he wasn’t looking.
-
time left: 00:00
“Oi.”
Jungkook didn’t recognize that voice at all. He concluded must still be dreaming.
A finger podded his temple.
“Oi!”
He started, but the arms encircling him pinned him in place, not letting him and his naked body leave the bed. Softness pressed against his back, bare nipples rubbing against his skin. He froze.
His dick was rock-hard.
A black-haired man in a black suit with a disturbingly handsome face was glaring at him.
“You animals made a fucking mess.”
“Go away, Seokjin.”
Jungkook squeaked, unable to talk because one of the hands holding him was dancing downwards under the covers, wrapping around his impossibly stiff length. He prayed it wouldn’t start moving up and down, but it did. Slowly. Not enough, but still too much, because he didn’t really want to get jacked off first thing in the morning while someone was very clearly assessing whether or not to cause extreme bodily harm to him.
Well, he did want to get jacked off first thing in the morning.
It was the bodily harm he was less enthused about.
The man named Seokjin squinted at him and it took every fiber of Jungkook’s being to not make a goddamn peep as her fingers ghosted the head, smearing slick pre-cum over the slit.
“I want to take a shower.”
“Then go take a shower. I left towels for you,” she mumbled behind Jungkook’s back.
“Namjoon’s in the shower right now.”
“Then order us some breakfast.”
“I sent Taehyung to do that. Also, it’s noon.”
“Couldn’t you order room service?”
Seokjin shrugged and Jungkook realized his shoulders were huge. “He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen and was going to reserve us a table.”
She raised her head, resting her chin on Jungkook’s right shoulder and pulsing his cock with her right hand under the sheets. “Taehyung has a lot of friends, doesn’t he?”
Seokjin looked at Jungkook pointedly.
“Er… yeah. T-Tons…”
Those brown eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Jungkook suspiciously. “He seems like a dork.”
“I like dorks. That’s why I keep you around.”
Seokjin stuck his tongue out childishly and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Namjoon!”
“I’m done!”
“Finally,” Seokjin grumbled, walking off and yanking the bathroom door open, barging in unceremoniously.
“Gah!”
“Gah!!!”
-
“Oh, fuck, please, d-don’t…”
“It’ll only take me a second.”
You dove under the covers and Jungkook clapped his hands over his mouth, your grip on his twitching length moving fast and tight, rubbing your tongue on the hot head, and you were right, it only took a few seconds, and then Jungkook was hissing through his fingers, now, fuck, now, and your mouth swallowed his cock, not a moment too soon as thick spurts of his orgasm shot into your throat, coating the back of your tongue, savoring his smell and his thighs under your breasts, rubbing your nipples on the muscle.
“N-No, stop, stop,” Jungkook whimpered desperately, grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up, your head popping out, smirk on your lips.
You opened your mouth and showed him your tongue covered in his cum.
“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me…”
He hurriedly nudged your chin and you closed it, grinning.
Dangerous.
Ill-advised.
Jungkook grinned back at you helplessly, holding your smiling face in his hands.
---
some time later
“I have two towels.”
“She didn’t throw her drink at me.”
“Damn. I even seduced the bartender a little bit to get those plush cotton ones.”
“She asked if she could keep the ring so she could sell it and give the money to her secret, less good-looking boyfriend so he could buy her a new ring.”
“Oh. Wait, what?”
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “I said sure, because it wasn’t like the love of my life couldn’t afford her own diamonds.”
“Ah, true, true.”
“I might be slandered for a little while on the internet.”
“Nah, you won’t. Maybe for like, six hours. Then everyone’s attention span will be somewhere else. Also, your taste upgraded in their eyes, from social media influencer to burlesque dancer.”
You grinned, raising your hands to create a finger frame of your index fingers and thumbs, enclosing the handsome face of Jeon Jungkook, long black hair, silver brow piercing, dark sculpted eyebrows, big brown eyes, defined jawline, shapely pink lips, mole of his nose and cheek, and finally that perfect mole underneath his lower lip, appearing as he smiled at you, confused at what you were doing.
“Even though we all know you’re just a hopeless sucker for the class delinquent. Tsk tsk.”
His grin grew mischievous, walking over to you as you lowered your hands.
“Well, I was a shit class representative anyway.”
He leaned down to kiss you, smile to smile.
Twelve hours.
Sunset to night.
-
fin.
--
masterpost
727 notes · View notes
swcetnight · 3 years
Text
It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1
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synopsis:
Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.
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masterlist here
→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)
→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))
-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!
→ word count: 7,973
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authors note:
alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!
authors thanks:
a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!
also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍
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If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.
You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.
What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.
You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.
… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.
[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!
You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.
A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.
[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.
Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.
"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."
"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."
Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.
With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."
A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.
You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.
“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”
This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.
Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.
You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.
Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.
"Y/n?"
You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.
The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-
“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.
"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.
You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"
Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.
"It's- It's Taehyung."
You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?
"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.
Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.
Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.
"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"
"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.
You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.
And then he’s gone.
“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.
“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.
“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”
“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.
“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”
“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.
“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”
He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.
You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”
Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.
“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”
You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”
The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.
Yeah… tomorrow.
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Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.
It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.
Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.
"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.
"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.
"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).
"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"
With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."
Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"
"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.
"What??"
"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."
This sly guy.
"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).
“Jin.” Noted.
“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”
You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?
Well, you aren't.
"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.
"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."
You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.
A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”
Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.
The atmosphere is calm… quiet…
“BULLSHIT.”
The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.
"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.
"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.
"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.
"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.
When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.
“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”
“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.
“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.
“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.
“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.
“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.
“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.
“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.
“Taehyung!”
You freeze.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
"It's- It's-."
“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.
“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.
Okay.. you can’t help but look…
Holy—it’s actually him.
Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.
“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”
The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?
“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.
“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.
He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“
“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.
No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.
“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.
“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.
You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?
Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”
Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.
Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.
You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.
Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.
He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-
“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.
“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.
“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”
“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”
Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”
A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”
“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.
He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”
You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”
“Clean slate.” He finalizes.
“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”
He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”
Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.
Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.
It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.
For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.
But this is different.
This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.
Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.
It just happened.
He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.
Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.
He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.
"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.
“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”
An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”
“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?
With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.
Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.
It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.
You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.
Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-
“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?
“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”
He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”
“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”
You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.
You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“
“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“
You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.
This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.
The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.
“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.
“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”
“Three years.”
Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”
The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”
If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”
You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”
“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”
You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”
Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.
That was an achievement, right?
“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”
“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”
When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.
“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”
This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.
“You have passion.”
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Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.
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“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,
and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.
“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.
“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.
“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”
“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.
“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”
He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.
Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.
“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.
Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.
“I’m sorry?” You croak.
“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”
You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.
So, now you have his attention.
“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.
“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.
“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”
“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.
If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.
You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.
“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.
“He is.” Jimin counters.
“He’s not.”
“He so is.”
“He’s so not.”
“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.
“Taehyung is not-“
A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.
You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.
Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”
“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.
“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.
“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.
“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”
“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”
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NEXT CHAPTER
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shirophantomvox · 3 years
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First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)
Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m
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It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.
As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.
“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”
-Chrollo
At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.
“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.
Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.
“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”
“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”
The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.
The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.
Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.
The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.
First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.
“Do you drink coffee?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”
“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”
To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.
It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.
“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”
“What’s the name for this drink?”
“Chrollo,” you responded.
“And for you?”
“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”
“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”
Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.
“It’s ok. I got it.”
You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”
He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”
The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.
As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.
It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.
“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”
“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.
“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”
You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.
Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.
You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.
There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.
At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.
“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”
“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”
“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”
Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?
Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.
On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.
Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.
“I see you catch on quick.”
“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”
“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”
It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.
Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.
“I’ll only be gone for a second.”
Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!
Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.
“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”
He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”
“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”
“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.
Wow! That was quick!
“What do you mean?”
“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”
A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.
The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.
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sincerelyella · 3 years
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Everything Has Changed - New Deep Chapter 1
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Book: The Royal Romance (AU)
Song Inspiration: New Deep by John Mayer
Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)
Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me
Summary: What if Liam was promised as a child to another kingdom’s princess?
Totally unbeta’d and I take full responsibility for any errors and ridiculousness.
Warnings: no weird warnings except Leo being annoying
Words: 732
“Father, why is this necessary? Leo is the Crown Prince, not me,” Liam’s brows were furrowed, and his arms were crossed in front of his chest. He was a passionate and well-spoken boy of eight, and his mother taught him always to speak his mind.
“My dear boy, it’s just customary here, you know that,” Constantine sighed as he set down his morning paper. “Leo is indeed the next in line, but you as the Prince of Cordonia are still obligated to serve the family.”
“I don’t like her! I’ve never met her! How am I supposed to marry her?!” Liam’s eyes were filled to the brim with tears.
“Son,” he gestured for Liam to come to him and rested his large hands on the young boy’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, but we need ties with the Philippines as they have ties with America. I want to be able to have allies in many countries.”
Liam wiped his tears away with his sleeve and sniffled. “Can’t you just be friends with them?”
Constantine chuckled. “If it were that easy, I’d have done that years ago. Now get ready; they arrive soon.”
An hour later
The young prince made his way down to the large meeting room dressed in a white polo shirt, black dress pants, and loafers. He hated these pants because they made him itchy, but he wore them anyway because it would please his father. As Liam entered the room, he noticed security, his father and mother sitting at the large oak table speaking to another man and woman. Eleanor spotted her son first, and she stood quickly to pull him into her embrace.
“This isn’t final, my son,” she whispered as she took in his grim face. “All we ask is that you two get to know each other. She’ll come every summer to stay with us.”
Liam nodded and quickly leaned forward for another hug from his mother. She squeezed him tightly and released him.
Constantine walked towards the pair with a small smile on his lips. “Liam, come meet King Danilo and Queen Flora.”
Eleanor stood behind Liam and squeezed his shoulders in reassurance. Liam stepped forward and shook the King’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“What a well-mannered child,” Danilo exclaimed with a wide grin. “Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you. This is my wife, Flora.”
The Queen stepped forward from behind her husband. The petite woman with dark hair that cascaded down her back had soft, light brown eyes and wore a warm smile. “Prince Liam, it is most definitely an honor to meet you,” she took his hand lightly in hers. “Please allow me to introduce our daughter, Princess Ella.”
A little girl peered at Liam from behind Flora. All he saw was one light brown eye and the same dark hair as her mother, gentle curls that draped over her shoulder.
Constantine cleared his throat loudly. “Liam,” he patted his son on the back. “Say something.”
“Don’t be shy, baby,” Danilo encouraged his daughter. “Say something to the prince.”
“What do you want me to say?” Ella hissed at her father while still eyeing Liam curiously from behind her mother.
“Anything, like ‘hi,’ maybe?”
Ella flipped her hair over her shoulder and stepped out from behind her mother. She wore a light pink lace dress with matching pink ballerina flats. “Prince Liam,” she dipped into a perfect curtsy. “Pleased to meet you.”
Liam stared at the small little girl in front of him and bowed slowly. “The pleasure is all mine, Princess.”
Suddenly the doors to the room opened and slammed against the wall so loud that it echoed through the hallway. Leo, the Crown Prince of Cordonia, made his entrance with a loud voice. “It’s time for a wedding!”
Constantine was red in the face. “Leo! Have some respect!”
“Oh,” Leo’s face fell. “Is there not going to be a wedding?”
“A wedding?!” Ella screeched. “Whose wedding?!”
“They’re just meeting, Leo,” Eleanor quickly explained. “Nobody is getting married right now.”
Constantine narrowed his eyes at his wife but said nothing.
“I’m not marrying him!” Ella yelled and ran out of the room.
An uncomfortable silence filled the air for a full minute before Leo broke the awkwardness. “Well, it sounds like trouble in paradise already!” He let out a laugh before bolting out of the room.
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imhereforbvcky · 3 years
Text
Watch Me Run - Part 17
Masterlist  -  Series Masterpage  -  Part 18
Summary: You inherit a family relic that gives you the gift of foresight but there are others who are interested for more nefarious reasons. You turn to the Avengers for help. (Bucky x reader)
Chapter: You finally make contact with the Avengers again but everything is not as it seems. Or rather everyone.
Word Count: 1928
A/N: the next 2 chapters are more “Move the damn plot, Mee!” than “yes, brain! Deliver some flowing, symbolic prose!” I’m not thrilled about it either, but here we are.
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The village was small. Hearty in the way towns are that have crawled out of the wilderness, just barely keeping the wild at bay. It was rugged and worn, and if you’d been there by yourself, you’d have passed right through without marking it.
Bucky pulled the creaking truck beside one of the larger single-story buildings. You’d have guessed the shutters hadn’t been painted since they were installed sometime in the late 1960s. The windows were probably last cleaned around the same time. The concrete wouldn’t need painting. No, eventually it would crumble into the dust whence it came.
For now, the entire side of the building had taken on a soft brown patina; decades of road dust streaked grey with the steady drip of melting snow and ice. Most couldn’t have picked it out of a line-up from the other buildings. Nothing distinguished this one as a government building except the sign in the filthy window of the door advertising its hours of operation. You doubted very much if their adherence was strictly enforced.
“Only library with wifi for the next hundred miles,” Bucky had told you as he gassed up the truck for the drive. You’d yawned and handed him a coffee in a white styrofoam cup. The liquid was black and cloudy as the sky overhead. Even the 3 creams you’d dumped into yours had done little to brighten the stale, hefty brew.
The library door groaned when Bucky drew it open for you. Not the gentle squeak of a place welcoming a new guest. No, this was the deep angry howl of a door stubborn and calloused in its disuse. The woman scowling at you from behind the counter stood as the physical embodiment of the very sound. Grey wisps of hair tumbled out of a hastily tied knot, a worn and grease-stained flannel hung on heavy shoulders over top of a fading wool knit. The collar had begun to fray long ago, as had this woman’s patience.
“Hi.” You offered as pleasant a smile as you could find, a customer service smile, though you were the customer.
The frown didn’t budge one millimeter. Her eyes though, turned to Bucky when he stomped heavy boots on the rug at the door. Muddy slush from the day-old snow dropped off his boots in clumps.
“Please wipe your boots outside,” she scolded.
“The snow’s right up to the door—“
Her head snapped and her eyes burned with the sort of anger only a stern teacher could conjure.
“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded before cracking the door just enough to knock his boots on the brick wall.
“Do you need somethin’?” she asked you. Not, ‘Can I help you?’ Not, ‘Are you looking for something in particular?’ Not even a, ‘Are you lost?’ This was a terse, ‘Honey, I know you’re lost and I know trouble. I want nothin’ to do with either.’
“Yes,” you jumped forward, matching her eagerness to rush you out. “I’m um… I’m not from here and—“
“Well I can see that.”
Bucky stepped in then, a scowl as deep as her own. He turned it down on you though. If you could kick yourself, you would. One of his rules of being on the run – don’t give away unnecessary information. Not who you are, where you’re going, who’s coming for you, not even what you need. Be nondescript. This was a difficult rule to follow when you were a nervous talker, when your sympathy scale was off the charts and the best way you knew to communicate was to connect in a personal way.
“We need to use your computer,” Bucky said simply. “You have internet here?”
She pointed to a back corner of the building. “Yeah. We even have indoor plumbing,” she grumbled.
“Well, she hates us,” you fidgeted, leaning close to whisper at Bucky’s shoulder as he led the way toward the computers. “You remember people you hate. She’s going to report us or something.”
Bucky chuckled as he looked back at you. “To who?”
“I don’t know… a Mountie? Loki could be anywhere right? Anyone?”
“Loki is from another planet. He’s not Interpol. There’s no hotline running for us. Far as she knows we’re a couple on a fishing trip.”
“Really? You don’t think she’ll remember us?”
He shrugged, pulling a chair over beside the one he took in front of the computer. “She wouldn’t have remembered some idiot who forgot to wipe his boots. Probably gonna remember ‘I’m not from here, please like me,’” he teased, donning a high squeak of a voice.
You smacked his arm with the back of your hand. “That’s not what I sound like.” A glance over your shoulder at the woman unfurling a cough drop at the desk. “She just looks so unhappy. How many  people smile at her in a day, you think?”
“Not enough,” Bucky agreed. Grim places made for grim people. Harsh living and meager needs made even the softest people harden at the edges. Necessity, he called it. Survival.
“See. I might be the weirdo that cowered at the library door, but she’ll have a story to tell her partner when she gets home. Bet she’ll laugh about it.”
Bucky chuckled, sparing a glance over to you as he booted up the software. The computer was ancient and it made a dissatisfied grinding noise at the request.
“You laughed at least,” she nudged his shoulder with her own.
“That wasn’t a laugh,” he argued, failing to stifle a grin. “That was a… a snort at best.”
“Oh come on. There was at least a chortle.”
“A what?”
“A chortle! Look it up, we’re in a library. Ma’am!” you hollered, turning over your shoulder and waving.
“Knock it off!” Bucky laughed, reaching for your arm and pinning it to your side.
“Ma’am, could you point my friend here toward the dictionaries, he needs to look up a word—Umpfh!”
He’d clapped a hand over your mouth, the other still firmly wrapped around your arm, enveloping you thoroughly.
“No, we’re fine with the computer. Internet, so helpful,” he hollered, over your muffled chuckle.
The soft tickle of breath on his hand, the gentle shake of your laughing shoulders set off that warm, brightness in his chest. He was smiling down at you as he let go.
“Well I definitely got a smile, at least,” you nudged when he did lift his hand away. “You don’t smile enough either.”
“I smile.” His brow crinkled, like he wanted to scowl, but then… he would be proving your point. So he kept a half a smirk on his lips.
“Well, yeah, everybody smiles sometimes. But you rarely,  and you never laugh—“
“I do too. I laughed yesterday when you fell on the stairs.”
“That was rude. You didn’t warn me they ice up like that.”
“It was funny,” he shrugged. “You looked like a cartoon. You should’ve seen your face.”
“You should see your face, Sir Scowls-A-Lot.”
“Scowl?” His eyes went wide and the smile threatened to erupt into an astonished laugh.
“Yes. You have the worst case of RBF I’ve ever seen.”
“What the hell is RBF…?” he wondered. But by now you were talking over each other, arguing and laughing all at once.
“People say, ‘If looks could kill…’ but, really. When you’re grumpy it’s like… if looks could kill, gimme Captain America’s shield because, nothing could stop those silver bullets.”
“It’s not that bad,” he rolled his eyes, typing away on the keyboard.
“It is. I mean, it’s fine, it’s a good looking face, so it works. But it’s a definite scowl.”
“A good looking face?” His entire visage lit into a grin now. His grey eyes were sharp and glittering like the cat that got the canary.
You were suddenly, glaringly aware that you’d been carrying on about all the little looks you’d noticed about your indefinite bodyguard all while you were still pressed tight against him from shoulder to hip. Heat flooded your cheeks and nose and throat at a record pace as you scrambled for a proverbial ripcord.
“Oh, you know you’re handsome.” When had denial ever worked for anyone? Misdirection, was clearly the way out. “Don’t act like I’m the first person to tell you that.”
He was still as marble for a long moment while you picked at your nails. The grin had dimmed a little, no longer a beaming mischievous thing, it had settled to a gentle warmth. He was Bucky again, the one who carefully assuaged your fears, who listened, who made eggs when hot pockets wouldn’t do.
“No,” he agreed finally and you looked up at the sweet softness of his tone. “First time in a long time it’s mattered to me, though. For some damn reason… I care what you think.”
“Hello?? Is this thing even working??” Tony’s voice thrummed angrily through the computer’s speakers. “Barnes, can you hear me?”
Bucky took a sharp breath, deep into his lungs, breathing in the last of the stillness between you and taking it with him when he turned to the monitor. “Yeah,” he said and then he was talking to Tony. Something about a Doctor and the big bang and some powerful stones. But you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky.
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Tony was irritable. Fuming, actually. The “doot-doot blub-blub-ting doot-doot” of the videocall ringtone repeated again, fueling the inferno. Waiting on technology was not something he was accustomed to. Waiting for inelegant, vulnerable technology that was too old to exist to project an image of the inside of his offices out into the world, well that would have been an a resolute No before today. But his teammates are nothing if not stubborn. Barnes most of all.
“Finally!” he sighed, leaning forward and peering at the image. “Why is it so grainy. I can’t… That’s a terrible picture.”
“It’s good enough,” Dr. Strange deadpanned beside him.
“No that can’t be it. Connection’s bad or something. They can’t even hear us talking!” He began waving haphazardly at the screen, hoping to catch the eye of the soldier or the stone-keeper.
That’s when he noticed what was actually on the screen. Bucky’s arm around you, tightly. A laugh. The goddamn Winter Soldier, your guardian for this mission, looking down at you as though he…
“Holy shit,” Tony mumbled, leaning closer. “Are you seeing this?”
“Yeah, you have to allow the app to access your microphone,” Strange rolled his eyes, entirely missing the point.
“Hey, Rogers?” Tony called just as Steve strode into the room, slightly out of breath. “I think your bestie has compromised the mission.”
His eyes were glued to the screen as Steve leaned his shoulder with a hand on the desk to get a closer look.
“Indeed,” he hummed through a grin as he watched the screen.
“What?” Tony frowned up at him.
Steve shook his head minutely. “Bucky’s fine. He’s only ever failed one mission. And I’m not this mission.”
Tony’s frown never lifted as his eyes darted over Steve. Doubt clouded them for but a moment. He hammered a quick line of code into the digital projection of a keyboard and swiped the screen away.
“Hello?? Is this thing even working??” Tony asked after patching the room’s audio systems through to the rudimentary video conferencing software. “Barnes, can you hear me?”
Not a second later, Steve – or rather Loki projecting himself as Steve – noticed a slight shift in the cameras in the room. One after another, they made slow sweeping turns until he stood squarely within each and every frame.
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Part 18 >>
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taliaromanovaswife · 3 years
Text
Exothermic
Summary: Meet the original character, plagued by amnesia after an accident. But what if a certain deadly assassin is the cure for that? 
Warnings: softly NSFW... like, it could be worse? Little swearing
The sound of her own, slow footsteps was her only companion on this evening's stroll through the sterile, clean corridors. Though barely audible, the noise was almost deafening to her and yet it did not manage to stop her mind from reeling. Nothing around her seemed familiar, starting with her room and ending with the smell of the hallways. There was absolutely nothing that managed to jog her memory so far, and it irked her. Apparently, she was a member of the greatest team of heroes that walked the Earth, but every time she looked into their faces, her brain could not connect the dots. And worst of all, every Avenger had told her that they were not allowed to help her; that her amnesia had to fade on its own terms and that telling her the truth could make it worse in the end. So, here she was. Eight weeks after an accident where she had been thrown through a window on the first floor, discharged from the hospital because her wounds were healing nicely, yet she still did not remember anything from her past. Nothing, except for her name, age and powers, but even that information was given to her.
Alexandra, twenty-five, defender and healer – whatever that was supposed to mean.
Pressing her palms against her temple, she scoffed and rolled her eyes at herself. Nothing happened, just like nothing had happened since the day she regained consciousness. She had no clue how her powers actually worked, but if she was a healer, then why was she unable to heal her own brain? “You're so stupid”, she cried out, banging the balls of her hands against her already aching head. “Why can't you work? I just want to know who the fuck I am?!”
She rounded another corner, walking past half a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows when she stopped dead in her tracks. Something in the corner of her eye had caught her attention, something she was unsure had been there before. Nevertheless, it was something that spoke to her and for the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of familiarity warming up her insides.
Taking a chance, the tall blonde tried the door handle, happy to find it unlocked. After light brown eyes had scanned the area to make sure that she was alone, tentative feet slipped through a small gap, still wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her now. She had been walking these halls since she was brought home, but had never noticed a piano up here, or anywhere for that matter. Not even downstairs in the bar. ‘Too expensive’, the man who introduced himself as Tony Stark had said when she had asked. ‘The last one got destroyed by Ultron’, a muscular, tall, blond guy had added before receiving death glares from the rest of the group. Alexandra had no idea who Ultron was. How could she, if she was still unable to put the pieces of her own past back together? And what about her present? Did she even go by her full first name or did she prefer it was shortened to Alex? Or even Lexi? Did she like being an Avenger? How strong was her power, how strong was she? She did not know and they did not tell her. But she felt drawn to the piano, as if it was calling out for her and that feeling eased some of her frustration.
Carefully lifting the fall board and locking it in an upright position, shaky fingers pressed down a combination of keys that her brain did not remember, but her muscles certainly did. Muscle memory, she sighed. How could she remember this but not even the bare minimum of her life? Her most important muscle was not working the way it should. Slender hands pulled the matching black piano bench out from under the instrument and she sat down, her fingers gliding over the keys like second nature as her feet hit the pedals.
Suddenly, her mind flashed to a different time. A different piano was in front of her and perfectly manicured short, red-painted fingernails produced a tune she could not hear. But if Alexandra had to guess, she was reliving a tiny bit of her memory. Maybe, hopefully, this was the pivotal ingredient that she had been missing.
Closing her eyes, she allowed her fingers to work the way they knew how to, her vision not providing much help anyway. And as the melody filled the air and cautious fingertips became more confident of their skill, so did her feet. Alexandra was no expert in how muscle memory actually worked, but she could not explain what was happening right now any other way. Her mind drew blank on the names of the songs that she brought to life, and yet, somehow her brain knew what belonged together and when she transitioned to a new melody. So she kept playing, kept her eyes shut tight and let her emotions rage freely like a wildfire.
Alexandra was so lost in her creations, she did not register the other person entering the room, nor did she feel their presence. Her upper body leaned into the music, swayed with every crescendo and diminuendo. The music consumed her entire system, every nerve ending was accommodating to her trance as the cells in her brain sprang into action. Still, her fingers danced over black and white keys in the most beautiful pattern she had ever heard.
Natasha Romanoff was utterly captivated by the sight before her eyes, as mesmerizing and enthralling as ever. From the moment she had stepped into the room, she stood still and quiet, simply listening to the melody with a sad smile on her face. There was something magical about the way that Alexandra commanded the keys under the pads of her fingers and she was glad she had suggested buying a piano for the younger woman. It was minutes later that she slipped her ballet shoes on and tied the ribbons around her ankles, green eyes never leaving the figure behind the piano. Even as she pulled her red hair into a neat bun – years of practice making the need for a mirror unnecessary – her gaze was fixed on the musician, waiting. The assassin had noticed the slight change in the other hero's posture, the deeper breaths and the parted lips. She knew what was coming, long before Alexandra herself had figured it out.
Words formed in her head. If one were to ask her, Alexandra would say she did not know where they came from, her brain not remembering the song. But her heart did, even if it did not understand the meaning just yet. “Dancing around in the rain again.”, she sang, finding the lyrics to the accords she played. Her voice was soft and quiet, trembling with insecurity at first. 'Cause you said that I was my only friend. Playing with the flowers that I picked myself. Because I know they won't come from anybody else. Wrap myself up to warm my hands. From the biting ice that you made them stand.”
As her favorite voice filled the room, velvety and clear, Natasha began to stretch her tired muscles. Last week's mission had been tough on all of them, and the ache from multiple hits and countless falls still lingered in her bones. It could have been worse, but it also could have gone a lot smoother and with less injuries. Still, there was no pain that could stop her from being here, from dancing to Alexandra’s song. Not her bruised ribs and most definitely not her bandaged wrist – just a sprain, she told everybody.
Tears began to form behind her closed eyes. How could she remember songs but not her life? What kind of sick and twisted condition was this retrograde amnesia and why would it not let go of her? And while her fingers moved across the keys without any mistakes, and her feet operated the pedals below them, the first tears spilled down her cheeks. She just wanted to remember. “I'm still moving cities and I'm still causing storms. I don't know if you know this. But when I shoot I score. Took this pain inside of me, turned it into gold. I made this exothermic. Now watch my heart explode.”
Natasha's heart broke for the person, as it did every day since the accident. She had thought that the first few days had been the hardest, when no doctor was giving a clear statement whether or not she would wake from the coma. Then, when Alexandra did wake up but did not know who she was, did not recognize her, the agent's entire world fell apart. Adjustments had been made before the young Avenger had been released from the hospital, hushed conversations that would make everybody feel left out had become the norm around the blonde hero. But every look into Alexandra's sad eyes chipped away at the – usually put-together – assassin. Natasha shook those thoughts from her head as she carefully pushed herself onto her tip toes and raised her arms above her head, extending her index finger and pinkie into perfect position. Out of everything she had been trained in on her way to become one of the deadliest assassins in Russian history, ballet had always been her favorite and to this day, she still used dancing as a stress reliever.
Brown, teary eyes fluttered open and the music abruptly stopped. Her fingers halted over the keys, her mouth remained agape as she stared at the woman who was introduced to her as Natasha Romanoff. She thought she was alone, but there stood the beautiful Russian, dressed in tight black leggings, a matching form-fitting black bodice and a white silken skirt. “I’m-“ She pulled her fingers in, forming fists that slowly clenched and unclenched with every passing second, her heart rate speeding up to the same rhythm. Nervously chewing on her own bottom lip, she stared at her own hands and then back at the other woman. “Was I not supposed to be in here?”, she asked anxiously, Natasha’s intense green eyes seemingly staring right into her soul.
“Please don’t be scared”, the assassin replied. “This is your home, you can be in every room you want to be in, use everything you want or need.” Graciously lowering herself back onto her entire feet and resting her hands on her hips, the redhead tried reassuring her. “You should feel at home here.”
The words were mumbled, but Alexandra still caught it and scoffed. “And yet, everybody stops talking when I walk into a room”, the woman shot back, smoothing her palms over the long, honey-blonde braid and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy being me right now, whoever I am. But you did not deserve this.” Everybody around here had been nothing but amazing towards her, despite her condition. Sure, their conversations stopped or changed, but that did not mean that she was not included in whatever topic followed after. “I can go, if you want to-“
“Please don’t”, Nat said in a haste, stopping herself before she could say the name that lingered on the tip of her tongue. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that Alexandra’s memory was yet to come back. “Would you play for me?”, she asked quietly, her lips curling into a smile. “Your song was very beautiful and I would like to dance to it.”
The blonde eyed the assassin apprehensively. Was this a regular occasion? Did she used to sing for other people? “Damn it, you stupid brain”, she cursed under her breath, eliciting a light chuckle from Natasha. Thinking about the request for a moment, she finally agreed. “Only if I am allowed to watch you dance.”
“Always”, the redhead smiled, her body protesting slightly as she pushed herself into the releve pose. She steadied herself before finding Alexandra's eyes. “Ready when you are.”
As if nothing had stopped her in the first place, expert finger tips roamed over the keys, picking up where they had left off. Once again, the melody resonated in the air, but this time, Alexandra only had eyes for the gorgeous woman dancing for her. Every part of Natasha’s body appeared to be in sync with her music and somehow the blonde knew that this was not the first time she had twirled to this particular song. “Dancing around in the dark again. But I'm happier now than I ever was then. Feel my heart as it is ablaze. Making room for another in these better days. Days, days.” Forcefully pressing the keys into the instrument as the music became louder and more spirited, brown eyes followed Natasha’s every motion doing the same. She did not notice the two figures standing on the other side of the glass, staring and smiling at her.
Wanda sighed in content, listening to the sound of Alexandra's beautiful voice. She and Natasha always begged the young hero to sing for them, or at least play one of her favorite compositions for them. It helped with the stress after a long day of work. It eased their minds and both women knew that the same applied to Alexandra. “Do you think this will help her?”, the witch asked aloud, her Sokovian accent less prominent now that she was spending most of her time around Americans. Cocking her head to the left but never averting her eyes, she added, “Natasha could use a sliver of good news.”
Arms crossed over his chest, Steve observed as one of his oldest friends danced. He let out a long breath. “I really hope so. I don't know how long Nat can keep going like this. It's ripping her apart.” The super soldier truly admired the redhead for still walking tall. He was not sure he could do the same. “If this doesn't work, then I don't know what could, besides telling Alex the truth. And the doctor's strictly recommended not to do that. But-”
“But at this rate, our most deadliest and finest assassin is no use on missions”, Wanda finished his sentence with a soft nod while watching the Black Widow dance with an elegance unmatched by anything she had ever seen.
“I'm still moving cities and I'm still causing storms. I don't know if you know this. But when I shoot I score. Took this pain inside of me, turned it into gold. I made this exothermic. Now watch my heart explode.” Alexandra's vocal cords vibrated deep within her throat as her voice reverberated with every word she sang. Louder and louder. The keys molded to her every tap and she had to focus on keeping her eyes open. She never let Natasha out of sight, but as the song went on, it was harder and harder not to give in to the music and let her feelings take over. “Oh, watch me exo, o, o, o. Watch me exo burn this. I deserve it, ohh. I deserved this. I deserve it, oh! I deserve this, woah!”
The Russian's feet hit the parquet floor in a faster pattern now, her body spiraling with every pirouette. The position of her hands was immaculate, the satin skirt wafted with every turn and yet, every time she spun around, her eyes locked on Alexandra's. Watching the other woman play with such intensity, like nothing had changed in the past weeks, made her want to cry. But Natasha swallowed her emotions and danced until the blonde stopped playing. She came to a stop, her breathing ragged and the pain from her bruised ribs jabbing into her sides. Still, Nat regretted nothing.
Neither of them said a word or dared to move. The last notes had long since faded away, but they still felt connected through the music. An invisible bond both held onto, fearing that breaking the silence would involuntarily end this moment of peace.
It was Alexandra who moved first, carefully closing the fall board and rising to her feet. “This was nice, we should do this again.” The comment came with a smile. She had not felt this free in weeks and even though her memories did not return – she had hoped they would – the blonde felt a lot better. “Thank you for the dance, Natalia”, she said out of a habit she did not understand. Hearing the sentence, but specifically that name, falling from her own lips caused a chain reaction. She froze on the spot and went stiff as her brain was flooded with millions of memories from her past. Missions and fighting. Loki, Ultron. Iron Man, Thor, Captain America. The Hulk. Clint and Wanda, her brother Pietro. Vision. Her healing a gash on Natasha's temple. Natasha. Everything came back to her, and all at once. And as her brain completed the puzzle, everything began to make sense again. The last image she saw showed Natasha – her Natalia – in a simple white dress and with white flowers in her red, wavy hair as she was waiting for her on the grass behind the Avenger's compound. And then finally, she remembered her full name. Alexandra Romanoff.
Natasha gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. She had waited so long to hear her wife say her name again. No one ever called her Natalia, no one but Alexandra. “Sasha”, she whispered her lover's nickname, eyes filling with tears. With hesitant steps, she closed the gap between them. Soft hands cradled the blonde's face the second she was close enough. “I've missed you so much.” Her lips brushed against a tear-stained cheek, tasting the salt on the tip of her tongue. “Thank you, for coming back to me.”
Gently taking a bandaged hand in her left, Alexandra carefully lowered their limbs. Her wife appeared tough on the outside and would never admit to anyone how much pain she truly was in. But brown eyes saw right through the facade. It had been those very same eyes that had torn down Natasha's walls, stone for stone, when they had started dating all those years ago. A mellow light radiated from her, encasing both women in the warmest, white gleam. Her powers searched for every single one of Nat’s injuries, healing them one after the other. “I will always come back to you, моя любовь. Always”, she promised.
Just as she leaned in for a kiss, Natasha saw the two people outside of the room move slightly – of course her trained senses had picked up on their presence earlier, but she had chosen to ignore them. “FRIDAY? Please close the blinds”, she asked the Artificial Intelligence in her sweetest voice. A swoosh sounded through the room as the shades dropped from the ceiling almost all the way down to the floor, effectively blocking every curious onlooker. “Now we are alone.” Her voice was husky now, even lower than the usual rasp that was just so distinctively hers. “You didn't notice?”
Alexandra shook her head. “I was watching you.” Pale cheeks blushed a dark shade of red when their lips were mere millimeters apart, their foreheads touching. She chuckled. “Even when my brain was all chaotic and weird, I could not stop looking at you.” Nudging her partner's nose with her own, she inhaled Natasha's perfume. “I'm sorry it took me so long.”
The motion was barely visible as the red-haired woman shook her head. “It doesn't matter”, she whispered softly, stroking a few loose curls out of Alexandra's face and behind her ear. “What matters is that you remember now.” Finally pressing her lips against her wife's, she was immediately engulfed by the familiar warmth and love she had for the other woman. God, how much she had missed her.
Pale hands rested on either side of a slender hip, thumbs stroking the bone over the soft material of the dancer's outfit. The cutest little moans escaped her throat. This was what coming home felt like. Natasha was home. One of her hands slid lower, fingers fanning out over a firm bottom cheek as she smiled into the kiss. Tears of happiness ran down her cheeks.
“Don't cry, Милый”, Natasha whispered, wiping her lover's tears away with a gentle brush of her knuckles. “Please, don't cry.”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, the blonde reconnected their lips. A dire need to be as close as possible to her wife was all she experienced in this moment. “Happy tears”, Alexandra assured between kisses, pulling the assassin even closer into her body. She relished in these moments, remembering how the redhead never let her guard down around anybody but her. It made every moment of intimacy even more special. “I love you.”
Her wife's breathless confession caused her heart to pound even faster in her chest. “I love you, too.” Strong hands moved to her lover's behind, cupping a cheek in each of them to hoist her up. She felt legs wrap around her waist as a squeal left Alexandra's mouth, followed by the most precious giggles. Natasha had to crane her neck now, due to the change in height, but it had always been one of her favorite things to do. “I love you so much.” A couple of quick steps later, a slim back collided with the wall behind the piano.
The kiss grew more heated, tongues danced to an unsung melody. Their hearts beat in sync, wanton lust overtaking both women. It took all of her willpower, but when she felt full lips suck on her neck, Alexandra let out a frustrated groan. She knew she had to put a stop to this for now. “I think we have a more suitable... room for this, Natalia”, she moaned, her voice dripping with desire. “Our room.”
Natasha hated to admit it, but her wife had a point. Their reconnecting deserved more than a quickie in the newly appointed music room. She pressed their lips together in one last heated kiss before carefully lowering the blonde back onto her feet. Both inhaled deeply to regain some composure and smoothed over their clothes. “Ready?”, she asked, reaching out her hand for Alexandra to take, her other one holding her sneakers and sweater that she had picked off the floor.
Fingers intertwined, they exited the room with mischievous grins tugging on their lips as they walked past Wanda and Steve who were engaged in a conversation in the middle of the hallway. But the couple did not pay any attention to them anyway, too absorbed in each other's presence. Throughout the entire way to their room, neither spoke a word. Yet, the silence was not uncomfortable.
“Everything is still as I remember it”, Alexandra spoke when she entered their suite and took a look around. “Even my slippers are still where I kicked them off before we had to rush into the mission.” Her leather jacket – a birthday gift from a time when they were engaged – was still draped over one of the chairs. She smiled lovingly at Natasha when she noticed another detail. “I see you've been sleeping in my shirts.” She was not mad about this; she could never be mad about this. Because if the roles had been reversed, the blonde would have done the exact same thing.
Natasha blushed lightly, shutting the door behind them and locking it with a twist. “They kept me sane”, she explained. “Some of them still smelled like you.” And if they did not, she always imagined her wife's unique scent on them. Coming up behind the blonde, the dancer looped her arms around a slim waist. “You are what keeps me grounded, but you were not with me. So this was the next best thing.” The truth was, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. She tightened her embrace. Delicate fingers moved a honey-blonde braid out of the way before soft lips began to caress the back of a creamy neck.
Turning in her wife's arms and instantly missing the touch against her skin, Alexandra nuzzled her nose against her lover's cheek. Her fingers found their way to the hair tie, pulling lightly so red curls could fall onto almost bare shoulders. “I missed the feeling of your hair between my fingers”, she breathed, burying her hands in silken tresses as she claimed crimson lips in a fierce kiss.
The air was full of sexual tension as both women tugged and tore at each other's close until either of them was left in only their underwear. Natasha unhooked her own bra first, knowing how much her partner enjoyed the view. When the garment landed on the floor, nimble fingers fiddled with the clasp of the necklace that held her wife's wedding ring until she finally slid it back onto its rightful place. She smiled brightly. “Much better.” Wasting no more time, the red-haired woman unceremoniously undid Alexandra's bra before moving on to the matching pair of panties. “I missed all of you”, she husked seductively in her wife's ear before nibbling on the shell of it. “Every. Single. Inch.” And as her hands were busy getting reacquainted with the blonde's naked skin, she maneuvered them towards their bed.
Alex could not stop the moans as they spilled past her lips between kisses. She tried dipping her hand into her wife's underwear but remained unsuccessful before she was pushed onto the mattress. As brown eyes opened, the irises shone with a passionate hunger. “Come here”, she beckoned, ogling her lover while Natasha stripped herself of the last article of clothing. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. “Natalia”, she groaned, growing impatient.
Knowing that teasing was not an option right now, and that it would ultimately cause both of them to suffer, the assassin climbed into the bed. Dainty hands wandered upwards, over pale ankles and satiny legs. Skipping her wife's sex on purpose and provoking a growl when Alexandra noticed what she was doing, the redhead did neither budge nor stop until she was once again face to face with the love of her life. “Hi”, she breathed against kiss-swollen lips as the pads of her fingers playfully fondled her wife's round breasts. Skillfully tweaking rosy buds into pebbled peaks, Natasha licked the blonde's full bottom lip, asking to be granted access.
Her mouth parted on its own accord, as did her legs to welcome the warm body on top of her between them. She let her hands rove over the smooth skin of Nat's back while the assassin played her body like an instrument. When wet lips encased one of her nipples, Alexandra arched even further into the touch, her own caresses never stopping.
Natasha hissed as she kissed a path from one boob to the other, certain that her lover's fingernails left crescent shaped marks on her right shoulder blade and neck. Her wife's nickname followed the next gasp, “Sasha.” Grinding her body into the one beneath her own, her slick center was mere inches away from Alexandra's. “Promise to never leave me again”, she pleaded, her voice barely audible against full lips.
“Not willingly”, the blonde assured her and wrapped her arms around her wife, holding her close. She could not even begin to imagine how hard the last weeks must have been on the other woman. “Never willingly, my love.” With a gentle nudge – in a moment of Natasha's inattentiveness – she flipped them so that she was now on top. “My promise to you will always stand, my beautiful Natalia. I will always love you and I will always come back to you”, she said, reciting parts of her wedding vow as she kissed along a creamy neck and toyed with hardened pearls. “If you're lost, I will find you.” Natasha's body bowed below her when she let her fingers dance over her ribs. “I will forever be yours.” When she looked up, she found Natasha's watchful gaze staring right back at her. “And you will forever be mine.”
Sneaking her left hand between them as Alexandra's traveled past her stomach, both women moaned vociferously when delicate fingers flicked each other's clits the way only they knew how. The Black Widow relished in the fact that the blonde had ruined her for anybody else and that she had returned the favor with pleasure. “Let go for me, Sasha”, she whined just as two of her lover's fingers slowly entered her. Mimicking Alexandra's action, the redhead eagerly swallowed her wife's whimpers.
The blonde's orgasm was approaching quickly and she could feel the walls around her digits tightening as well. Rubbing her thumb over her wife's engorged, needy bundle of nerves, she quaked when the assassin did the same. “I'm close”, she warned, her voice merely above a whisper as she pressed her forehead against Natasha's.
“Me too.” She loved their slow dance of passion and lust. There was no moment that she got to spend with her wife that she did not cherish. But tonight weighed a lot more as both women felt like they were coming home after being gone for weeks. “Come with me”, Natasha groaned, capturing full lips with her own seconds before she tumbled over the edge and Alexandra followed suit right after.
As both came down from their climax, the blonde felt the light strokes of fingertips as they pushed loose strands of honey-blonde hair out of her face. A satisfied smile spread across her lips. Her body revelled in the afterglow, tingled all over with bliss and adoration for the other woman. Lifting her head, she got momentarily lost in her lover's green eyes. “I am so in love with you, Natalia.”
“You will never know how much I love you, Sasha.” 
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pandajaye · 3 years
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Todoroki Family Ties (Part 9)
Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki, Preteen!Fuyumi, Child!Natsuo
Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia
Warnings: pregnancy, hospital, hysteria, child abuse, Aquaphobia, upset child, abusive family, neglect
“Enji, it’s okay. Please try to calm down. Everything is going to be fine.” Ivy comforted her husband, putting a hand on his leg in an attempt to keep it from bouncing so much. “I know, I know. Just a little nervous, that’s all.” He sighed, looking down at his hands while he rubbed his palms. They were the only ones in the room right now. It was cold and white everywhere apart from the delightful little flower clusters. The atmosphere was mostly quiet except for the tapping of keyboards and damp sounds of phones ringing in some of the offices.
“I mean…. what if it’s true? How could I be so careless? I should’ve been thinking clearly. I should’ve thought more about you. Things were just finally going so right and I was so distracted by excitement. So many good things were falling in to place. It’s…. It’s all my fault that we’re here today.” He brought her hand up from his thigh and kissed her knuckles. “Please, forgive me.” All she could do was smile at how nervous he was. “Forgive you for what, baby? Nothing bad has happened. Being here is a big part of the journey. It’s where our path is decided for us. I’m excited. You should be, too.”
Enji wrapped his arms around her with a tight squeeze. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She always did know how to make the best of a situation that seemed frightening. Maybe it was the way of words. Maybe it was the sweet and calm voice that did it for him. Whatever it was, he was happy to be able to access it. Having her next to him was going to make this move a lot smoother, and he couldn’t ask for anything better right now.
Their moment of peace was interrupted by a nurse dressed in lovely pink scrubs. “Todoroki?” Her voice was gentle and nice as well as her smile while she patiently waited for the two to stand and follow her. On the way to their room, Ivy glanced into the rooms they passed. In one, a couple was finding out some good news. They looked excited. In another, a woman seemed to be having a good check up. And the last one was different than the other two. A woman leaned against her sad husband as she cried. The doctor also had a sad and sympathetic look on her face. Those sure were some interesting situations to witness. Which one would represent her and Enji’s?
“This room right here. Doctor Akari will be right with you.” The two parties bowed to each other before she left and they entered the room. Enji looked around the room and sighed. It was so weird to be here again. The rooms had changed a bit since the last time he was on this same floor seven years ago. ‘Wow. Seven. I’m getting old.’ He was quickly brought back to reality by Ivy. “I’m really glad we’re here today. This is good.” Her smile brought so much ease to him. How lucky is he to have someone like her.
A quiet knock on the door gathered their attention. In walked an older woman. Her hair was still a dark brown so she couldn’t have been that much older but you could see some of the age in her kind face. There was a bit of height difference between them, her being taller than Ivy, shorter than Enji of course. She carefully closed the door behind her before setting her chart on the table and introducing herself. “I’m Dr. Akari, nice to meet you today, Mr. and Mrs. Todoroki.” She shook their hands and continued. “Amazing, I never thought I’d be meeting, let alone working for the number two hero. I guess dreams do come true.” Enji blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh. Always nice to meet a fan.”
“So. We’re here for a verification today, correct? How are you feeling? Mrs. Todoroki, is this your first?” Ivy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I-I’ve really never been in any type of situation like this before. I’m excited and kinda nervous. Sorry.” Dr. Akari held Ivy’s hands in her own. “Sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize. Being nervous is apart of this. A big part. That’s not to say that it’ll be a bad experience. It is what you make it. And I have so much faith that this is going to be an amazing and beautiful new part of your life. You’re going to be great at this.” Her smile was warm and reassuring. Maybe everything really will be okay. “Should we get this thing started?” Ivy looked at Enji and back at Dr. Akari with a grin. “Let’s do it.”
The test and results took no time at all to come back to them. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Todoroki. You’re having a baby.” Excitement quickly grew on Ivy’s face, brown eyes big and full of tears when she looked at Enji who hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head. “Wonderful news! Wonderful! Wonderful!” He was so energetic and happy like a child himself. The fifth child and he’s still taken aback as if it’s his first. Ivy stayed a little calmer herself. “I’m so happy. This is everything I’ve ever wanted…. A dream come true.” The doctor hugged Ivy when Enji finally pulled away. “I’m so happy for you two. You have my full adoration. I know you’re going to be an amazing mother. Before you know it, you’ll have a quirky and spontaneous bundle of joy in your arms.” Ivy froze.
‘….Quirky?’
Enji thanked the doctor a few more times before leaving and while they walked to the car, he noticed something was off about Ivy. She kept her gaze towards the ground and hadn’t said a word since leaving the doctor’s office. After a short walk they arrived at the car, Ivy got in the passenger seat and patiently waited for Enji to get in and close his door. As soon as the car door shut, Ivy broke down hysterically… “FUCK! FUCK! FUCKING! FUCK!” Honestly, it scared him a bit. She was fine a few minutes ago and now she’s upset? “IVY? WHAT’S WRONG?” She started hyperventilating, forcing him to pull Ivy into his lap and hold her. “Breathe! Breathe. Slow down. In….. Out….” It took a minute before she could match his breathing. Eventually, they were in sync and she began to calm down and got back into the passenger seat.
“Alright. What in the hell was that?” He didn’t mean to sound irritated, he was just genuinely confused about what just manifested. “I-I’m sorry but…. I-I can’t do this. I-I-I can’t be a mom.” Tears were still falling but she tried to wipe them away as fast as they came. “Wha…. What do you mean?” His brows were furrowed and his face contorted. “Enji…. I-I was so excited at first. And, I still am in some ways…. But…. what happens when…. w-when we have this child…. and they don’t have a quirk because of me? I wasn’t even thinking about it until Dr. Akari said the word quirky and all of a sudden it hit me. My child is going to be weak because of me…. They’re going to hate me. I know you want a strong child with a strong quirk but I-…. I-I can’t give you that.”
To be honest, he hadn’t thought of it either. But that was the old him anyways. He’s grown since then. Quirks aren’t everything to him anymore. Just her. Just his family. No matter what skills they had or didn’t have. He loves them in every aspect. “Ivy…. I don’t need you to give me that. I want you to be happy and healthy. I want to have this child with you no matter what happens. As long as you’re both okay, that’s what’s important. I know how I used to be. And I’m still sorry and trying to atone for it. I’m learning and growing every day because of you. I appreciate and love you so much.” His large hand held her cheek as he searched her eyes for a sign that she understood him.
A wave of safety washed over her as she leaned into his hand. So much calm after one random storm. “You’re right. You are learning. You have grown. And I am beyond proud of you. I’m sorry for my outburst. It wasn’t all about you. Being quirkless has always been a problem for me. Way before me and you. You’ve improved in ways that…. he never did.” Her gaze shifted to her feet when thoughts and feelings she had long ago returned. “Who?” When her gaze came back her eyes were brimming with tears of numb pain.“My dad….”
From a very young age, Ivy was victim to some of the most impactful abuse that young girls have suffered for centuries. Familial. Being the outcast, the one child that didn’t make the cut. Worked hard and reprimanded for occurrences out of her power. Her power. The center of everything and the reason for her suffering. More commonly known as a quirk, her ability should have been water manipulation. It ran in her family. They’ve always been connected to it all. Oceans, lakes, rain, dew, snow. A gene for telekinesis brought in from one of her great great grandparents but no one remembers which one.
“LET’S GO, LET’S GO, LET’S GO!” Nami James Emaraki, Ivy’s father, blew hard into his whistle. It’s not that common for a ten-year old to have to do burpees and laps on a Saturday morning. Especially since she’s not training for anything. “YOU SLACK AND I SWEAR ITS ANOTHER TEN LAPS!! YOU ALREADY MISSED BREAKFAST SINCE YOU WANNA SLEEP IN, I’M PERFECTLY FINE WITH YOU MISSING LUNCH CAUSE I’LL STILL EAT BUT YOU WON’T!!!!” He wasn’t kidding either. That threat wasn’t the least bit empty.
“I-” Her foot slipped and caused her to face plant. She lifted her head and a stream of blood ran from her nose. “OW! UGH! H-Help, please!” Rolling his eyes, he stomped over to her, grabbing a fist full of her hair. “Sure, I’ll help you. Usually salt water helps with things like that. Let’s get you a lot of salt water.” He looked at the pool and smiled. “How about 10 ft?” Panic flooded her entire body so quickly it almost made her dizzy. Or maybe that was from the quick face plant and loss of blood.
“N-No! Please!” Ignoring her, he began dragging her to the deep end of their pool. “I’m so sorry, I can keep going! I can keep going! Daddy I can keep going!” She couldn’t help but cry and scream for forgiveness because he always had such a terrible punishment for her. The closer they got the more she struggled. “DADDY PLEASE! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE NO! NO-” He tossed her in with a grunt and picked up his stopwatch. “Hurry up. You don’t wanna drown, use your quirk to get out!”
But that was the issue. Ivy was quirkless. It never showed up when it was supposed to. They hoped she was a late bloomer but it wasn’t looking very hopeful. Her father and uncle did everything they can to bring it out of her. They were so close they moved into two joint houses for each of their families, between the two homes, a facility with a large indoor pool that they used to coach swimming and have opened for water sports and activities. Every child in their family has used this pool to get better at their quirks. But Ivy was the only one forced into fearing it, unlike her siblings and cousins.
The eldest children were Ivy’s older twin brother and sister who were six years older than her, as well as a male cousin four years older than her. They were taught everything with care and detail. How to swim, how to make waves, etc. Next, her cousin that was but a few months older than her. He also experienced the life of being the middle child like her. Ivy was born next. Treated like all the other kids until she reached the age where quirks usually had already appeared in their family.
Four. When the family pediatrician attempted to explain that her quirk would never come in due to an extra joint in her foot, that of which the absence of would determine if the power would ever come in. Her father was so upset when they got home, he grabbed her by the ankles and dunked her in the water a few times before dropping her in the 5 feet. Her mother stood and watched as paramedics revived Ivy, pretending very well to be concerned.
Yet, here he is now. Watching her sink as she loses oxygen. Destined to be a corpse at the bottom of the pool. But just before tragedy could wrap her up in its claws, her father washed her back onto the side of the pool with a wave. There she laid in a puddle, lungs full of water. “So damn dramatic.” Unrightfully annoyed, he preformed mouth to mouth and saved her, smacking her when she accidentally spit up water in his face. “You’re a disgusting excuse for a daughter. But just you wait, you’ll be a hero soon enough. And you’re gonna be supporting your family after we’ve been so supportive of you. Get your ass up and come inside when you’re through acting like something wrong with you.”
Nami didn’t even look back after he started walking way. He didn’t care if she ever got up. To him, she has two options in life. Become a top pro-hero. Or die. And some days, she wished he wouldn’t save her. Some days she wanted to stay at the bottom of that pool knowing she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Ivy couldn’t help but wonder, what’s the point of living if your entire family is already disappointed in you?
During lunch, her mother Eimi asked her about today’s training. “How did it go today, Ivy?” She smiled, looking between her and her father. Ivy didn’t want to answer so she kept her mouth shut. “Ivy, your mama is talking to you. Answer her.” His fist slammed down on the table. The back of her throat burned from swallowing her need to cry. “Ivy? Answer her, girl, can you not hear?!” She flinched at him raising his voice. With a quiet sigh, Ivy spoke, carefully trying not to let her voice crack. “It w-was fine, mommy. But….” She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to speak up.
“B-BUT DADDY TRIED TO KILL MEEEEE!!” Cries broke out of her throat. “CONTROL YOUR DAMN VOLUME RIGHT NOW!” He tried to grab her arm but she ducked out of the way. “MAMA I FELL AND HURT MY FACE AND MY NOSE WAS BLEEDING AND HE THREW ME IN THE POOL AND ALMOST LET ME DROOOOOOWN!!!!” Tears dripped from her chin as she trembled and sobbed. Eimi just looked at Nami and shrugged. “Well, Ivy. Maybe if you stopped pretending your quirk isn’t there, you could have saved yourself. So I don’t want to hear it.” Ivy was horrified and offended by every word out of her mother’s mouth. “WHAT? BUT MOMMY-” “THAT’S ENOUGH! YOU’RE GOING TO YOUR ROOM!” Before she could run, he grabbed her and carried her to her room as she struggled. “I HATE IT HERE! I HATE IT, HATE IT, HATE IT!!” Once the door slammed close, she hugged one of her stuffed animals tight and cried. And cried. And cried. Until she cried herself to sleep.
Ivy had ever only known Hell on Earth. Her siblings before her were treated with respect. Even her baby brother and even younger baby sister got to see the best from their parents. Ivy was the one that they wanted to depend on. Their goals for her were to make her one of the most famous Pro-Heroes ever. Then use her paycheck to further their lives. She would put them on the map and be their little bank. But the older she got, the more she fought back. Until finally they realized she’d never be able to help them anyways.
Ivy was shunned and kicked out of her home. Forced to learn the way of the world. She made her way through three nice jobs and even college. Out of all the smoke and fire, she emerged through her trials and tribulations and began working at Endeavor’s agency. Her hardships didn’t end there but shortly after, everything started to work out for her.
Her past was filled with evil but it never influenced her to become a bad person even after never getting her quirk. She realized that quirks never really mattered. It was the love that she never received. Love that she’ll be giving to this baby. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if her child ever had to go through what she went through.
The world outside was so beautiful as they drove home. She looked at Enji and smiled. He sparkled in the sunlight. Those beautiful blue eyes focusing on the road while he held her hand up and kissed it. “You’re gonna be okay, Ivy. I love you so much. You’re going to be a great mom. And, I hope i can be a great father. On the fifth try.” The reassurance made her grin. “Thank you, Enji. Thank you.”
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issabangtanfic · 3 years
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[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 11)
Synopsis: When your stereotypical Christian Grey meets his not so stereotypical Anna
Pairing: Jungkook x OC
A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!
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It's been years since I’ve been left with that much energy after a day at work. I have minimal oiliness on my face by the time I check my mirror in my car. I actually feel like I could run a mental marathon, which is good considering my next stop. Tonight, I’m seeing the flirtatious Mr.Jeon so he can finally give me the brief for the windmill house. I have to admit, I’ve kind of been looking forward to it, not only because the house is amazing, but also because I find some fun in declining his straightforward yet quite funny advances. I drive my Mini out of London, to the secluded green space where Mr.Jeon’s house is. I stifle a smile walking up the crackled stairs. I almost fell on it the first time I came here. I remember almost losing my shit when he caught me. I don’t think I’d be that phased if it were to happen today. I’ve had him way closer to me since then, and that has been something too.
I park my car at the end of the dirt road at the bottom of the hill, and hike up the stairs that lead to the house. When I get there, I notice a black wooden door with mouldings has been installed. It's better than the sad plank that was there before, and it actually kind of fits the architecture. I knock on the door, and a few moments later, Mr Jeon opens it.
“Miss Fair.” He greets, smiling at me, all grey suit and white shirt, his tie gone, three of his buttons undone. I stop my eyes from moving further down, not wanting to check him out too obviously.
“Good Evening, Mr.Jeon.” I murmur, returning the smile. He always looks so yummy.
“Good evening.” He replies, stepping aside to let me in. “Please, come in.”
Step into the house, the floorboards creaking under my heels as I make my way in, and he closes the door behind me. 
“How was your day?” He asks as I walk into the living room, myeyes immediately going to the immense, 3 to 4 meter high bookshelf  I saw last time. The house is as pretty as I remember it. 
“Busy.” I reply evasively, my eyes wandering up to the ceiling, and the dome where the roof opens up onto the sky.
“Have you eaten yet?” He asks, pulling my attention back to him. I turn to him, and he's leaning against the kitchen counter, hands shoved in his pockets. I narrow my eyes at him.
“Are you going to try and turn this into a date?” I ask warily. Of course he's trying to make this a dinner date. He chuckles ,taking a few steps towards me.
“I’m worried about your blood sugar.” He counters, and I roll my eyes to the heavens. My blood pressure is what is really worrying. 
“I am fine, thank you.” I decline politely. This is a business meeting, Maya. I turn back around, venturing further in the living space. The couches are still covered by white sheets, except for one old brown leather armchair that I will one hundred percent stay in the house.
“Where should we start?” He prompts as I set my bag down onto the pretty arm chair.
“We can go from room to room and you tell me whatever you want to be done." I explain, sliding my coat off of my shoulders. I set it down on the back rest of the chair and start gathering my equipment. "I can also give you my ideas. I’ll snap a few pictures so I can remember how everything looks.” I say, pulling my tablet, camera and notepad out of my bag. 
“Then, I’ll draw sketches and I’ll come back to you for your approval.”  I conclude.
“Okay.”
“I'll also need the blueprints of the house.” I add before I forget.
“I’ll send them to you.” 
“Okay.” I turn around , glancing at the stairs that lead up to the star-azing platform..
“I really want to start up there.” I informed him. I have been thinking about this part of the house ever sincethe first time I came here. The sun has set, and I'm not sure what I'll be able to see but I'm curious.
“Sure.” He concedes, walking me up to the stairs. He lets me go first while he stays down under the staircase to turn the crank that lifts the blinds from the roof.
On the platform there is what I'm guessing is a telescope covered by a white sheet pointed at the ceiling.
After he gets to work the panels slowly go up, unveiling a dark sky with a few sparkles, and an almost full moon clearly visible.
“Oh, wow.” I whisper. This isn't the starriest sky I've seen in my life, but it's pretty bright for something just 45 minutes away from London. I guess the light pollution doesn't hit as much here.
A few seconds later, Mr.Jeon climbs the stairs and comes up behind me. This  space has so much potential. It's so unique, I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before. 
“So your grandfather designed this?” I ask him, unable to detach my eyes from the spectacle in front of me.
“Yes. I’d like to keep it like this of course, but I want this space to have seats.” He explains, pulling my attention back to the platform I'm standing on. The stairs and floor are metal, which gives it a very industrial feel, but doesn't match the warmth we're trying to give the house. Imagine laying on a comfy fatboy and just staring up at the sky for hours.
“Like a star-gazing station?” I ask him.
“Exactly.” He concurs. “I think it’d be nice if you were able to lay down too.”
“I agree.” I nod. 
"I think," Mr.Jeon trails off, stepping in front of me and reading the calendar stuck on the wall right next to the covered telescope. "Venus should be visible tonight." He says as he checks the time on his watch. Venus?
"Really?" My eyes widen in excitement as he uncovers the telescope. It's dark green and kind of rusty, defenitely an old piece of equipement. I bet this belonged to his gandfather. It's not dusty though, meaning he probably uses it frequently. 
"I mean it is visible during the day too, it's one of the brightest objects in the sky." He explains, unscewing the lense cover and the eye piece. Oh, I'm about to see a planet for the first time! I'm still surprised a man like him has this kind of interest. It's really not common.
"But it might be too low now." He muses, and I watch as he twists and turns the telescope that is almost his height, following an integrated compass with coordnates. He looks into the telescope in silence, and I'm fascinated by how easy he makes it look. This businessman has hobbies that don't consist in golf. 
"There she is." He says once he's found his target, and steps back from the telescope. "Take a look." He invites me. I take his place and look  through the lense, to see white bright disc in the center of my vision.
"It's so bright." I observe. I'm only seeing a bright disc of light, I wonder what it would look from up close.
"It's atmosphere is mainly thick clouds which makes it really reflective." I hear him explain behind me. 
"You sound so nerdy." I remark, turning around to look at him. He crosses his arms.
"I wouldn't be building rockets if I wasn't a nerd." He retorts. True. I take another look at the planet thoufh the telescope. It's amazing to see, but I'm really curious about how it would look if I were on the surface. It's kinda sad that I'll probably never know. 
"This is a really cool place to have in a house." I muse, looking back at him. He has his very own small scale observatory. "I've never seen anything quite like this."
"It's pretty nice." He agrees. I pull out my camera and snap a few picturs of the space, and we move on with the rest of the tour. After coming back down into the livingroom, we both agree to keep the massive bookshelf. That was a given; this is another huge piece of the house that never in a million years I would have considered removing even if he asked me to.
He tells me his grandfather has read evey single one of the books in there, and has even written some of them. He throws some ideas for the arrangement of the space ,and I snap e few more pictures. Then we tour the rest of the house; the dinning room, the two bedrooms upstairs, the bathroom, and the backyard. It takes us almost an hour to complete, and we're back in the living room, where I put down all my tools and start to pack up.
“Wine?"
I turn around to find him behind the kitchen ocunter, holding an expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He's trying to make me drink again!  I give him a dissaproving stare.
“I bought this bottle for the occasion.” He tells me. 
“What occasion?”
"Any day I get to see you is worth celebrating to me.” He coos. Oh please!  “Considering how you’re always avoiding me.” He adds. Oh, I know where this is going. 
“I am not going to sleep with you tonight.” I articulate, trying to sound convinving despite my amused tone.
“I’m just offering you a drink.” 
“You’re trying to get me drunk.”
“Maya, you’re way smarter than this.” He tilts his head to the side.
“Excuse me?” I mimick him, crossing my arms under my chest.
“You wouldn’t be here if you really thought I was going to try to take advantage of you like that.” He points out. True. But still. 
“It’s Italian wine.” He adds when I don't answer. “I think you’ll love it.”
How does he know what I like already?! 
“Just one glass.” I give in. One tiny glass. I'm driving anyways so I'm not about to go crazy tonight.
“Okay.” He agrees before pulling two wine glasses from under the counter. He pours me half a glass, before serving himself.
I thim and we clink our glasses before taking a sip each. An boy this man knows his wine. I love sweet reds. Before I can even comment on the taste, there's a loud knock on the front door.
"Just in time." He comments, droping his class and walking over to the door. Who is he expecting? I hear the door open.
"Thank you Jimin." Mr Jeon says. Jimin? Isn't that his assistant? I remember his name from the time I went to the purple mansion. The door closes and Mr.Jeon reappears.
“I hope you like sushi." He announces, holding two plastic bags in his hands. Sushi?
"You ordered food?" I gasp, my face a mix of confusion and glee. "I figured you wouldn't have had time to eat." He answers, walking over to me. I watch, mesmerised as he drops the food on the counter. My eyes follow as he pulls out one, then a second, then a third plate of colorful sushi. There’s makis too, salmon, tuna, sea breaam sushi- a lot f very good stuff. I’m salivating, my eyes hugging the food close. "Hungry?" I look up and see him smirking at me. I love sushi, and I don’t know if I can refuse this offer. This is better than sex. "Well, I wouldn't want to waste." I shrug a shoulder, making him chuckle. He then pulls out the sauces, disposable chopsticks and napkins.  Little white makis catch my attention. "What are these?" I ask, pointing at my first preys. "Cheese makis.” "Cheese?" I repeat. Has there been a kind I haven’t tried yet? It’s time to update the sushi-pedia. "Have bite.” Mr.Jeon proposes, splitting a pair of chopsticks. He picks one of the cheese sushi and brings it over to my face. At this moment, I don’t even feel like pointing out how inappropriate it is, this man just won’t stop. I bite the sushi off, surprised by the creaminess of the cheese. I hum appreciatively. Sushi can never go wrong, even with cheese in it. This is amazing. "Right?" He concurs, smiling softly. "It's good." I agree once I’ve swallowed. Mr. Jeon hands me another pair of chopsticks, and I dive into the colorful maki rolls. "I'm going to be honest," I trail off after the first two bites. "You have found my weak spot." I mumble. "Sushi?" He says, amused. I nod vigorously. I would have declined any other type of food he would have proposed, but not sushi. He was spot on, and I'm not ashamed for giving in. "Any physical weak spot you want to tell me about?" When I look back at him, he’s turned his body so he’s facing me. Elbow propped onto the counter, he’s giving me all his attention. Oh you wish, Mr.Hotbuttocks. "I'll let you in on a secret." I announce, twisting so I’m facing him as well. "I'm all ears."  He murmurs. Feeling brave, I lean closer to him, prompting him to bend his neck and quite literally give me his ear. A distant, unused and forbidden part of my brain wants to bite his earlobe just to see his reaction. But I refrain. "I'm not having sex with you." I whisper, making him chuckle. He pulls back, shaking his head at me. I catch another sushi. "There was a time when you wouldn't say that." He says to me, eyes playful. "I was drunk." I retort. "Just tipsy." He counters. Ha! "There's not much difference." I mumble. "Let me put it another way.” He prompts, and I don’t like the smirk he’s giving me. I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you attracted to me?" He asks, but I’m not sure it’s a question. He’s looking at me dead in the eyes, probably watching my pupils dilate. I don’t think I can ever say no to that question, now that Iiterally have drunk-dialed him asking for sex. But I’m not going to admit it either. "Does it really matter?" Is the best I come up with, and he laughs at me in a short snort. I know he knows that was a lame attempt, but he ignores it. "Well, you know the feeling is mutual." He murmurs, and it makes my insides fuzzy. Such a handsome man being attracted to me physically is a confidence booster, but I also know the fact that I don’t take shit from him also plays a role in it. He likes that I'm not giving in. "You're only attracted to me because I resist you." I reply. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you're resisting me? So you can have me chasing you?” He asks, leaning closer to me and propping his chin on his fist. I am more phased by his words than his proximity. Am I enjoying the chase? I mean the only reason I’m not throwing myself at him is because I know when he finally gets me it’ll be over. Is that what's stopping me? Knowing there probably won't be a second time? Or is it the fact that I'll just be another rebelious woman he'd managed to tame?
“No.” I shake my head after thinking about it for too long. I mimic him, resting my head on the palm of my hand, my elbow right next to his. “Well, I’m not attracted to you because you resist me." He murmurs, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Sure.” “Let me get to my point." He prompts. Oh, whatever. 
"You're submissive, right?" He asks out of the blue, taking me by surprise. Excuse me? Rude!
 I immediately feel exposed, because I know he knows the answer to that question. I feel my face heat up. Where is he going with this? "Maybe." I reply, trying my hardest not to betray my panic. But I can’t bring myself to lie looking into his eyes, so I look away, earning another heartfelt chuckle. "Maybe, alright." He repeats. He sees right through me .To be fair, I am not putting the best act. I'm too easily read. I blush, I frown, I fidget, I play with my hair - I have the most telling body language and it hasn't helped me once in life. “What is your point, Mr.Jeon?” I ask, wanting to end the torture. "So when you find someone attractive, you tend to let them take control and bring you pleasure." He trails off. I nod in agreement, still unsure where this is going.  "But it doesn't mean you're weak or dependent. You chose to be in that position because that's what brings you the most pleasure. In fact outside the bedroom you're a very opinionated woman and you get your way quite often." He adds. I'm still following at this point, but I know he's trying to get me somewhere I don't want to be. I repeat his words in my head a second time. I feel like I’m about to get tricked. "True." I agree reluctantly, knowing I probably shouldn't.  “See, you think I'm all about the challenge and keeping women who challenge me submissive and obedient, but I work differently." He explains. Oh, I’m sure he does. "Just like you being submissive doesn't mean you're dependent and passive, me wanting to pin you against a wall and do things to you has nothing to do with my respect for you or women in general." He murmurs. Pin me against a wall and do things to me?! I take a discreet but deep breath, watching as the corner of his mouth turns into a smirk when he realises I’m already imagining things. "What I'm trying to say is," He trails off, and I think I catch his pupils dilating as our eyes meet. "When I find someone attractive, I tend to hold down..." He says, his tone lower, his voice so seductive it sounds like a purr. "And bite..." He adds, bringing the tip of his index finger just under my ear. "And kiss..." I hold his gaze while he slowly runs it down the side of my neck, barely brushing my skin but letting me feel plenty. "And lick..." He stops at the  spot where my neck and shoulder connect, my hairs standing alert in the wake of his touch. His eyes don’t leave mine, intense and blazing. My libido is through the roof. I want him to do that again. Biting and kissing and licking... I’m not learning anything new here. I’ve always known this man was dominant and kinky. I’m not surprised, but he’s just so sexy. He oozes sex, he smells like sex, he looks like sex, it’s intoxicating. "Because that's what gives me the most pleasure." He adds, his voice feeling like butter. "But I also always have my partner's pleasure in mind. Sometimes more than my own." He says, barely hiding the promise in his words. He leans back as if to mark the ending of his monologue, and that’s when I realise I had stopped breathing. 
I feel dizzy and my cheeks are burning. "Well,”I sigh, reaching for my wine. “Your next conquest should consider herself lucky." I say, raising my glass in his honor, before throwing the entire thing back. I feel thirsty, and hot and bothered. "Yeah, you should." He retorts, making me splutter and almost choke on my wine. He laughs at me, his laugh loud and boyish, while I try not to spit wine all over myself. “You have no shame.” I say in wonder, shaking my head at his mirth. "What should I be ashamed of? Being attracted to you?" He retorts. "Being inappropriate." I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. What a tease. "You're smiling." He counters.  "It's better than you running from me." He murmurs, his words heavier than what he wants me to think. I don't think I'm running away as much as I used to. I went to dinner with him, and I'm here today. I'm still aware of the majo red flags he waved at me when we first met though. "You give me reasons to run." I argue. This man smells like trouble, and I'm hovering over a dangerous line but I'm confident in my capacity to protect myself. His gaze turns to playful to a little bit more serious. He looks pensive. "I was hoping it wasn't the case anymore." He says quietly, and he almost sounds disappointed by my answer. "I wouldn't be here if it was." I say to reassure him a little bit. "I'm glad to hear that." He smiles softly. Part of me doesn't want to make him too happy, but I guess I'll give him that.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He prompts, and I feel him getting even more serious than before.  
"We've never really talked about what happened with my brother." He trails off. Oh... 
Way to kill the mood. I feel myself stiffen instantly as the few memories I have of that night flash back to me.
"And again, I'm sorry for what happened." He says to me. He has told me before that his brother got the "wrong impression". And I would like, in order to start contemplating the idea of forgiving me, to know how in the hell he got that wrong impression. Because to me it is unjustifiable. Was it my dress? Nope. No matter how short it could have been, and it wasn't even short. My body language? Nah. The mere fact that we were drinking? Hell to the no.
"I have always wondered how he could possibly have thought I was going to have sex with him. That still doesn't sit right with me." I tell him honestly, because if he's asking me to forgive him for thinking anything I did led him on, I'll be gone before he even finishes his sentence. 
"He could tell I was attracted to you, and he knows I usually don't mind sharing." He explains to me. He doesn't mind sharing? Sharing women with his brother?!
 "And he was drunk." He adds while I try to precess this information. My face is a knot of confusion. He had threesomes with his brother? Why do I feel like there's something very incestuous about it? I'm effectively grossed out.
"You share your sexual partners with him?" I utter, unable to hide the judgment in my voice. He doesn't seem fazed by the horror on my face."If they both want each other I usually don't have a problem with it." He shurgs a shoulder. How is he so cool about this? Is it normal nowadays? Am I weird for finding it weird. I mean; obviously him and Eliott aren't blood brothers, and I don't think they have sex together per say, but they both participate in a sexual act at the same time! 
"So you-"
"Not threesomes, no." He cuts me off. Oh thank god! 
"Huh." I exhale.
Okay, so he just doesn't mind sleeping with the same woman as his brother. 
"So, hypothetically," I traill off. "If we were to sleep together- which we won't- you wouldn't -"
"I would be extremely possessive of you." He cuts me off, looking into my eyes with intent.
"Why?" I frown. He mimicks me, scrunching his eyebrows togetehr in a pensive manner. He's actually thinking about it.
"I'm not sure." He murmurs.  "I guess I just don't like the thought of anyone else bringing you pleasure." 
Okay? 
After processing this, a tiny part of my brain thinks this means something? That maybe I'm different? I shouldn't believe him that easily though, but if that's true, then I'm confused.
"Interesting..." I muse. I don't feel like elaborating on that. The implications are way too heavy for what I want this whole thing to be.
"But okay, let's say he thought you and I were having sex." I prompt, because his explaination isn't very satisfying yet. "What made him think I'd have sex with him?"
Mr.Jeon inhales deeply, visibly a little bit embarassed to speak. 
"His dumb ass thought bringing you over was what I meant by cheering him up after his breakup." He explains, and it dawns on me.
"He thought I was a bloody hooker." I conclude. He makes a face.
"Not quite. He did drink a lot before you came over too." He counters. Okay, his drunk ass thought I was a bloody hooker.
"Anyways. I hope you'll be able to forgive him one day. He's not a bad guy, just really dumb." He finishes. 
"Okay." I nod. I've heard him, but I don't knwo about forgiving his brother. Not because I'm still mad or anything, but because I can't this of an istance where I'll ever have too see him again. It's not liek he was about to become my brother-in-law.
"Thank you for explaining." I say before glancing at my wtach. I have been here for nearly two hours.
"But I do have to go now, Mr.Jeon." I declare. It's getting really late. “Oh, what a shame.” I hear him complain as I slide off my stool. "Thank you for the sushi." I murmur, looking up at him. "You're most welcome, Miss Fair." He replies, standing up I as well. I gather my stuff, putting my camera and sketchbook back in my bag and throwing my coat on. "I will make plans and sketches and get back to you to schedule another meeting." I explain to him once I'm ready to leave. "How long will that take?" "I think I'll be done in a week or two." "That's a long time without seeing each other." He mutters, scratching his chin in a pensive manner. I raise a curious eyebrow. "Now I'm thinking we're only doing this so you can talk me into sleeping with you." I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. "Miss Fair, I would never." He gasps dramatically. Yes you would. I narrow my eyes at him. "No, seriously. This house means a lot to me, and I don't share this part of my life with that many people." He says more seriously, but I still think he could be doing this to get his dick wet. "Would you mind if I made you sign a contract, then?" I propose. He's all about NDA's and shit, right? "A contract?" "Yes." I concur. "So I'm guaranteed to get my fifteen percent." I explain. I don't want to dive into this and then leave the project like last time. If he ever fucks up to the point where I don't want to see him, we can still do everything via e-mail. Hott buttocks aside, this project is really exciting. He frowns down at me for a second, but is quick to shrug a shoulder. "As you wish." He concedes. "I should make you sign it before I actually start putting in the work." I muse. "I'll be out of town for a few days, I leave on Wednesday." He warns. "I'll e-mail it to you." "Or we could meet up and read it through together." He proposes. Of course he'd want that. "You're funny." I chuckle. "I'm not signing anything via e-mail." He declares. "Why?" I frown. "Don't know how that technology works." He shrugs. Now he's playing the age card? "How old are you?" I ask, realizing I still don't know how old he is. "I'm 21." He says. He keeps adding a year every time I ask him!  "But you build rockets." I deadpan. He smirks- fucking smirks at me. He's so handsome it's angering. "Then I'm not designing anything for you." I retort. "Is seeing me that much of a torture?" He asks with feigned disappointment. I take a moment to think. "Not anymore." I reply. "Not anymore?" He repeats, eyebrows meeting his hairline. "But still." "But still?" He frowns, looking offended. I giggle at his reaction. "I can throw food in the mix, we can meet during our lunch break." He proposes. "Our offices are very close." Oh, god. "I'll see what I'll do tomorrow." I concede, feeling like a straight no would be too mean of me. And I actually don't know I want to say no or not. I enjoy his company. "Just remember you have the power to make a man's day by saying yes." He murmurs, stepping closer to me, hands in his pockets. He looks yummy. "I'll keep that in mind." I murmur, looking up at him. "Good." He says quietly, holding my gaze. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in alert. Why am I still wearing clothes again? "Let me walk you back." He proposes after a beat. I accept, and Mr. Jeon escorts me out of the house. "We'll have to fix these stairs as well." I mumble, looking out for any rogue piece of rock about to make me fall. "You have carte blanche for the outside. I trust you." He replies. I don't think the outside -or at least the pathway, needs a lot of work. Just some brand new steps and green grass.
"Can't wait to get to it." I reply. He walks me down the stairs and back to my car.
"Thank you for your time, Ms Fair." He says as I stand next to my Mini, ready to unlock it.
"It was a pleasure." I reply, smiling at him. I open my door and slide into my seat.
"I'll be waiting for your text." He says, leaning down to my window, eyes small and playful. I giggle.
"I'm sure you will." I tease. "Goodbye, Mr. Jeon." 
"Goodbye, Miss.Fair."
23 notes · View notes
oh-boy-me · 4 years
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Casual Outfits Discussed
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@themarchinghare Ok >:3c
These hot takes analyses and opinions are based entirely on the concept art of the demon brothers’ casual outfits.  So any in-game features not present in the concept art aren’t discussed.  We’re looking at the outfit as a whole, but occasionally we do talk about individual features.
Also please don’t take this seriously, we just had a lot of fun shitting on the Seven Power Avatars of Sin, Rulers of Hell Itself™’s questionable fashion sense.  I would still die for these boys, terrible taste in shoes or not.
Participants in the discussion were
Jo ( @jodaneko ), my roommate and an art major with storyboarding and character design experience
Justin ( @justinlester0629​ ), my go-to fashion expert for at least a decade and very possibly a future male model
Noodle (Me), untrained eye and resident fashion decade disregarder
With the exception of a few choice quotes, our thoughts and conclusions are all mixed in with each other.  Quotes are mildly paraphrased.
Lucifer:
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The colors are good; the blacks and grays are all in the blue-gray family, and there’s a pop of color with the gold belt and red vest.
But he paired a black suit with brown shoes????  SIN
“You should always match your belt with your shoes and those shoes are not gold.” —Justin
Justin on the coat: “I love it, the pattern of the inner lining is throwing me off but it’s not bad, and the fur is perfect because it’s associated with power.”
Me on the coat: “I don’t know about you but I bet that coat looks dumb as shit if you put your sleeves through it.”
WITHOUT the coat though his cuffs scream “I am dealing for blackjack and rolling craps.”  Lucifer looks like he could walk into and out of a casino whenever he pleases and everyone would assume he works there.
“Dress shirts don’t work like that.  He got a size too big.” —Jo
The belt isn’t doing anything functionally, but it’s very important because it balances things out from being too top-heavy.
Out of the belt, shirt cuffs, and coat cuffs, two of them should have matched.
We’re nitpicking because in general it’s a good design.  Lucifer has no taste in shoes but that aside is capable of dressing himself.
Mammon:
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“That’s western Danny Phantom if I’ve ever seen it.” —Justin
Very nice coat 10/10 would wear.
The colors are odd, he mixes black and brown too, but the other colors mixed in makes it work in a cute way.
“The only things that clash are the shirt and jeans, he could replace the gray shirt with either a black one or a lighter one to match the boots.” —Justin
He’s got a cat toy on his belt.  I admire his preparedness for feline encounters.
The cat toy also balances out his rings nicely, since the toy is on his left hip and the rings are on his right hand.
The yellows in the shades, belt, and cat toy are placed very nicely and are the best part of the outfit.
Honestly except for the shirt color and the fact that fur-lined boots are out of style we don’t have much bad to say about his design.  Mammon’s casual outfit lives up to his model career.
Leviathan:
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“Ugh, god.” —Justin
The headphones don’t match with anything, and ever color he’s wearing is so bright they REALLY don’t match.
Headphones aside he chose ok colors to supersaturate, but also like, supersaturation is very very loud.
It kind of looks like he bought two different tracksuits and forgot they were two different outfits.
The pants don’t match themselves.
“He color coordinated his pant cuffs and his shirt and thinks it makes it ok.” —Jo
The jacket itself is nice, the pins are really good and I appreciate that they’re opposite the stripes in his shirt.
Justin hates the gray stripe though because it looks like either part of the jacket or a girl scout sash.
“That shirt should not be collared.” —Jo
“The shoes look like what Kanye West would design but if they were sold on Wish.” —Justin
It’s kind of just… he took the RGB color wheel and went with it.  It’s just loud.  If he just changed some colors he’d be fine.  Leviathan please I have hope for you.
Satan:
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“He looks like a gay prep school person.” —Justin
Satan wore 100 shades of green and said “yes this is peak fashion.”  And you know what, it objectively sucks but I’m kind of living for it?
Rip off jeans that can’t actually be ripped off because of the VERY stylish belt?  Iconic.
Green deep v-neck sweater over a gradient t-shirt and a jacket with the sleeves too short, this man only shops at Goodwill.
The one-shoulder jacket look gives the outfit some personality and I’m really glad he isn’t wearing it properly because looking at it alone I wouldn’t be caught dead in that jacket.
“While good for the design, it’s a mix between business and athletic and I’m not sure how I feel about that.” —Jo
(Jo also said some jackets are designed with sleeves like that but with the color choices it’s just… not good.  Justin pointed out that the sweater and jacket do match though.)
The chocolate loafer-style shoes take away from the rest of the outfit.
“Any other shade of green besides Crayola green would have been better for his nails.” —Justin
Listen it’s so bad it’s good, Satan’s fashion sense is “blue-green.”  We basically ripped into it the whole time but I’m pretty sure it was the universal favorite.
Asmodeus:
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“Just from the back he looks like a cool dude and then the front of him screams douche.” —Jo
Asmo’s outfit is actually ok, but he has one fatal flaw: If he takes off his jacket it’s way too plain, but with the jacket it’s kind of too much.
It’s also kind of confusing, because it looks both casual and formal from different angles.  “I’m not sure I like the cut in the front with the t-shirt showing underneath.” —Justin
The shirt is nice but a color that contrasted his skin more would have been nice.
The pants are killer, and the white stitching matches the jacket really well.
The gold accents on the jacket are also good and would match the belt really nicely if the belt wasn’t some ugly mustard color.
This boy is wearing mustard belt and ketchup pants.
Inoffensive shoes which is really the best I can ask for with these boys.
“The scarf.  I like it, but I’m not sure how I feel about it because there’s just so much going on with both it and the jacket.” —Justin
“That’s not a scarf, it’s too long.  It’s like.  A really long strip of cloth.” —Jo
Anyway all in all there’s a little much going on in the front but it’s one of the better looks, good job Asmo.
Beelzebub:
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Justin looked at the picture and immediately put his phone down.
“First impression is he looks like Naruto if he got his head lodged in Doritos.” —Justin
“He looks like he’s the carpet of the arcade portion of a skating rink.” —Jo
“He shouldn’t be wearing orange tones.” —Justin
Legitimately we were at a loss for words for a considerable time.  We just kept staring at it.
To start he’s got a lot going on but it feels like he looked in the mirror before leaving his room.  Not saying he did the best job but at least he looked at himself.
The jacket alone is great, but why is it fur-lined?  It throws off the urban design.
But finally some good fucking shirt.  We have mixed opinions on the triangles (I like them, Justin doesn’t but appreciates that the pattern continues on the back) but all like the cut.
Living for the necklace-bracelet combo.
Jo says the biggest problem is that there’s color-matching but in weird places and not enough of it.
Jo hates the pink belt and Justin hates the green suspenders; we concluded that one of them should have been excluded.
His choice in sneakers is not as bad as Levi’s but still not very good.  The laces shouldn’t be green.
This sounds like a lot of complaining but if he cleaned up the belts and ditched the fur it’d be a fine look.
Belphegor:
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“Oh shit oh god.” —Justin
“The top half is for sleeping and the bottom half is for riding.” —Jo
Absolutely disgusting, mustard yellow pants tucked into brown lace-up combat boots?  Disgusting.
The shoes alone are nice but the mustard pants don’t work at all.  There’s no cutoff between blue and mustard.
Also he has really broad shoulders, just noticed that looking at this.  That has nothing to do with this but it does affect how his cardigan sits on him.
I personally would wear that cardigan, a hooded cardigan?  Everything I’ve ever wanted.
Justin pointed out that the button lining is weird, and the inside is a weird contrast with the pocket.  He’s right, but I think it’s an endearing mess.
Why do I look at him and feel like he needs to do laundry?  I think it’s the t-shirt.  It would have been better as a collared shirt, taking the hood off the cardigan in return.
You can’t convince me the avatar of sloth laces those boots every day, he sleeps with his shoes on and that’s a worse sin than sloth.
“The pillow’s not part of the outfit?  Oh thank god.” —Justin
Jo said we were being too mean and that it’s not the worst outfit out there, and from the waist up they’re right.
But damn Belphegor the condiment war called and they want the bottom half of their uniform back.
1K notes · View notes
bobowho · 4 years
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baking with strawberries and sunshine (m)
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→ pairing: byun baekhyun x reader
→ word count: 21k
→ genre: bakery au, pastry chef!baekhyun, college student!y/n, fluff, angst, smut
→ warnings: smut, slight angst, mentions of toxic relationships
→ playlist
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→ summary: y/n started working at a small bakery stocked with sugary items, but never expected the sweetest thing in the world to be her boss’s smile.
→ link to ao3
The sugary aroma of freshly baked lemon macaroons was first of all, too sweet for y/n’s taste, and so overwhelming that y/n could barely focus on the paper she was trying to finish. She was sitting at a small table in a secluded corner of the bakery. y/n had been a regular ever since she discovered the place, one and a half months ago at the beginning of the semester. The interior had soft tones of ivory with gold accents, matching the warm mood of the store.
Eyebrows furrowing in frustration, she closed her laptop and pulled out her headphones from her ears, loud music quickly dimming away, and instead gentle notes of smooth jazz played in the background of the store. The struggle with writer’s block was painstakingly real.
y/n approached the counter for some coffee to help her focus. She stood about two feet away to examine the menu while the part timer working the register awkwardly waited for her to finish. From freshly squeezed grapefruit juice to a warm cup of cappuccino, the menu listed a slew of options.
“Sehun! Can you watch the oven for me?” A frantic voice came out from the back of the store, and a face popped out from the doorway between the kitchen and the counter.
y/n eyes shot towards the source of the noise and saw a man with a dark brown fringe, puppy eyes, and a slight pout begging Sehun to watch whatever he was baking at the moment. 
His eyes wandered to y/n for a moment before realizing Sehun was about to receive an order, and he made a small O with his mouth in an endearing way before pulling his head back into the kitchen. 
“What can I get for you?” Sehun asked. 
Thinking about the quick interaction between Sehun and the other guy, y/n turned her eyes to Sehun and ordered an iced americano with an extra shot — something to wake her up. 
The next day, y/n returned to the bakery, inhaled sweet fumes of pastries and bread, and sat at her usual corner so she could type away while constantly checking her word count to see how close she was to finishing her paper. She went to go order a coffee like always, but a sign caught her eye this time. 
Now hiring!
Part-time 
If interested, please call for the manager.
y/n was in need of a job. She was a college student terribly in debt and had almost missed the deadline for last month’s rent. The offer seemed enticing.
“Are you interested?” Someone interrupted. y/n looked up and saw the same guy yesterday with the puppy eyes, except this time he was smiling and they were in crescents. 
y/n, startled by his sudden presence, stammered out the only answer that seemed adequate. “Yes..? I—“
The man’s eyes lit up at the answer and he clapped in excitement.
“Great! We’ve been looking for someone to work the shifts Sehun can’t. Oh, I’m Baekhyun, by the way.” He introduced himself to y/n cheerily. “I own this bakery! I do the managing and most of the baking. Sehun helps me here and there… Here! Here’s the application.” Baekhyun pulled out a piece of paper from behind the counter and shoved it into y/n’s hands as if she would change her mind if he didn't act fast enough.
y/n, still recovering from the quick turn of events, nodded and quickly said, “Nice to meet you Baekhyun. I’m y/n. But can I order a coffee?”
“Oh, of course, y/n. What would you like?” Baekhyun lightly grinned and waited for y/n’s answer.
Only if y/n knew she would meet the love of her life at a bakery with a boss who had the personality of sunshine and a loving pair of hands that made everything he touched sweet.
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“Holy fuck, y/n.” Sehun lightly exclaimed as he watched a plume of white smoke come out of the oven as soon as y/n opened it. 
y/n let out a cough before running out of the kitchen to get fresher air. Her first day at work had started off with a great first impression. 
Sehun followed y/n out of the store and let out a sigh. “All you had to do was watch. The. Damn. Cookies.”
y/n shamefully looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry. I got distracted checking to make sure I counted the stock of french brioche correctly and—“
y/n saw Baekhyun walk towards them from down the street, hands full of paper bags. The bakery needed extra flour and powdered sugar, so Baekhyun had gone out earlier to get some from the grocery store. 
“Guys, don’t just stand there and help me take these bags! My arms feel like they’re going to fall out!” Baekhyun yelled from afar. 
Sehun and y/n hurried towards Baekhyun and each grabbed the items from his arms. Baekhyun let out a sigh of relief as he let go of a few of the bags. 
“Hey Baekhyun, the batch of chocolate chips—” Sehun started to explain the situation, but Baekhyun stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air as they got closer to the bakery. 
“Do I smell burnt cookies?” Baekhyun asked.
y/n cringed. “Yeah, I was supposed to be checking on them but they ended up burning…” She waited for Baekhyun to scold her for doing so poorly on her first day of work, but Baekhyun just nodded and walked into the bakery, no longer smelling sweet like it used to. A heavy scent of bitterly burnt cookies hit everyone’s noses, making them scrunch up.
Baekhyun and y/n went into the kitchen while Sehun went to keep the store’s door open to let in some fresh air. 
Baekhyun saw neatly round, black circles on the baking tray and closed his eyes in disappointment. y/n was usually not the type to cry but she couldn’t help the tears forming in her eyes. She hated disappointing people, especially not her new boss, Baekhyun. 
“I’m so sorry.” y/n sincerely apologized. “If you need any help baking these again, let me know. I promise not to make the same mistake.”
Baekhyun turned away from the ugly batch of cookies to look at y/n, only to be surprised to see her teary eyed and clearly upset at the situation. Baekhyun’s eyes widened at the sight of tears rolling down y/n’s face.
“y/n, it’s fine.” Baekhyun assured her. “We all make mistakes. And it’s only your first day! I promise you’ll get better over time.”
y/n still didn’t feel any better about the fact that Baekhyun would have to bake a whole new batch just because she couldn’t watch the time. It was the stupidest mistake she could’ve made.
Baekhyun reached out a hand to wipe away a tear on y/n’s cheek with the back of his finger. “Here, let me get you some tissues.” He quickly fetched a box of tissues and handed it to y/n, who was calming down now. 
“How about you start setting up the tables in the store once you feel ready, okay? Again, y/n, it’s no big deal. I can just bake it again in no time! Bam! It’ll be ready to go once the store opens for the day. Other than the cookies, you’re doing a great job for your first day.” Baekhyun lightly smiled at y/n and gave her a slight nudge on the shoulder as if it could cheer her up. 
y/n nodded. She didn’t understand why she felt so upset at messing up. Maybe, she just wanted to be perfect on her first day,
The rest of her shift went smoothly, and when y/n returned home after classes there was a text from Baekhyun: 
[good job today! sehun and i are both happy to have you working with us. see you tomorrow!!] 
y/n couldn’t help but smile at the cheeriness in the text. It made her evening slightly better.
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“Hi, what can I get for you?” y/n asked the guy anxiously fidgeting in front of the counter.
He stared at y/n for a few moments before saying, “Can I have a…latte.” He wore a tattered dark hoodie and nervously bit at his lip. y/n noticed he had been coming quite often to the bakery lately. 
y/n wondered what he was so nervous for but she smiled and said, “Sure thing. I’ll have it out in a few moments.”
The guy grabbed his drink and stiffly sat down at a nearby table. y/n could feel his eyes glancing up to catch a glimpse of her once every few minutes. She didn’t appreciate him checking her out which made her a bit uncomfortable — but a customer was a customer.
It was only y/n’s fifth day at work, but she already felt like it had been weeks. She’d already become strangely used to the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, the addicting smell of cookies and pastries, and Baekhyun’s quiet humming as he busily worked in the kitchen. She breathed in the scent of freshly-baked brownies, the scent getting stronger and stronger as Baekhyun carried the tray out towards the counter.
Baekhyun. He was almost painfully adorable-looking today, with his dark hair neatly combed against his forehead and his cheeks slightly flushed from the heat of the oven. He was wearing a neat white button-down and navy blue slacks, complemented with his baker’s apron.
“Want to try one?” Baekhyun asked, placing the brownies out on the display shelf.
y/n had eaten breakfast before coming in for her shift, but she didn’t know if it could be possible to say no to Baekhyun with his puppy-like eyes. “Sure,” she replied.
He handed her a brownie, and y/n took a bite. The chewy texture and taste of warm chocolate was perfect. It was quite literally one of the best brownies she had ever tasted.
“Holy shit, that’s so good.” she blurted out, before mentally scolding herself. She wasn’t sure if Baekhyun thought it was entirely professional to swear at work.
She was pleased to hear Baekhyun’s soft chuckle. “Thank you, I’ve been perfecting that recipe ever since I opened this bakery.”
y/n looked over to see Baekhyun smiling down at her. She found herself suddenly wondering how old this man was. He looked barely older than her, and she was still a college student. He definitely looked like he could even be younger than some of the boys she’d seen on campus. Most of the boys her age acted like they could barely iron their own clothes, let alone own their own business.
“I hope this doesn’t come across as weird,” she said carefully, “but you look awfully young to be owning your own business.”
Baekhyun let out another light laugh, his puppy eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t worry, I get that a lot.”
“I don’t really think of myself as young, I’m twenty-five. I actually dropped out of college halfway through my second year,” he explained. “I had a huge fight with my family over it. I come from a not super well-off family, and they always wanted me to study something like finance or accounting, so I could get a stable job after I graduated — but it was always my dream to open my own bakery.”
y/n was taken aback by his response. She didn’t expect him to open up about his personal reasons for opening the bakery. She couldn’t help but admire that Baekhyun chased after his dream in exchange with stability.
“I worked multiple jobs for a few years after I dropped out, so I could save up to start this bakery. It was a bit rough at first, but the last year has been amazing. I even have some regulars now. Plus, It's been great to work with Sehun. And you now, of course.” He nudged at her side with a wink.
y/n couldn’t imagine being so passionate about something that she’d be willing to risk so much for it. She liked her psychology major at school, but not so much that she felt like it was her dream. “I wish I had something I was passionate about like that.”
Baekhyun gave her a grim smile. “I’ve learned that most people don’t find it. I see my friends from college sometimes, and some aren’t completely satisfied with their office jobs. I guess I’m just lucky that I get to do what I love for a living.”
y/n watched Baekhyun’s warm brown eyes shift through uncertainty, rejection, and accomplishment after years of hard work. She knew he’d been through pain and desolation that she could not even begin to understand. y/n wished she could’ve been there for him, supported him through all his highs and lows.
Baekhyun soon left her to bake another batch of brownies. She examined the bakery closely and saw how dear the small shop was to Baekhyun. Every inch, every corner came from countless hours working day and night to afford this place. The bakery was his everything. 
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A week passed, and y/n had somehow managed to not set the entire bakery on fire. There was a lot to learn, and by the end of the week y/n’s head was aching with the number of drinks and pastry recipes she’d had to memorize. y/n was in the fall semester of her last year at university and soon found herself running from class to class, only to rush to work right after. The only thing that kept her from completely exploding of stress and exhaustion was that she got to see Baekhyun and his energizing smile every time she went in for her shift.
It was a chilly Thursday morning in October. The bakery was having a lull in the usual morning rush of customers. y/n stared outside the window at the leaves in shades of red and brown clinging onto their branches, as a gust of wind flew through the streets. The air around her smelled like fall — pumpkin spice and pecan pies. Cliché, but there wasn’t any other way to describe it.
“You know, Baekhyun’s kinda weird around you,” Sehun blurted suddenly while drying espresso cups with a dishcloth. He sent a quick glance in y/n’s direction, a smirk on his face. 
“What?”
“I’ve been friends with Baekhyun for a long time, and I’ve worked here for almost a year. Trust me, if I had burnt an entire batch of cookies on my first day, Baekhyun would’ve yelled at me for sure,” Sehun said confidently, turning to look y/n with a pointed look on his face. y/n nervously wiped her palm on her apron.
y/n didn’t know what to say. Baekhyun had been extremely nice to her all week, giving her only smiles and encouragement at every mistake. She had just assumed that Baekhyun was a naturally nice and patient person.
“I’m sure that’s just because you’re friends with him.” y/n managed, avoiding Sehun’s gaze.
Sehun cocked his head to the side as if in deep thought. “Maybe,” he conceded, “I do wonder why he’s so nice to you, though. He isn’t usually like this around other people. I guess the last time he acted this way was when he met his ex.”
“I—” y/n started to say, only to be interrupted by the chime of the door as it opened. Baekhyun walked in, carrying bags of coffee beans. His dark hair gleamed in the late morning light. He offered a puppy dog smile at the both of them.
“Good morning!” he said brightly, setting an armful of coffee bags down on the counter. Sehun suddenly bolted upright at the sight of his boss. Baekhyun’s appearance on a late Thursday morning usually meant that Sehun’s opening shift was over.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Sehun announced, taking off his apron and gathering his things.
“You’re not even going to say hi to me?” Baekhyun placed his hand on his chest, feigning hurt.
“I’ve got class in ten minutes!” Sehun yelled, running out the door. The door chimed again as Sehun slammed it behind him. Baekhyun stared after him, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I swear that kid thinks I’m just his friend, not his boss.”
y/n found a flush suddenly rising to her cheeks, thinking of what Sehun had said earlier. Baekhyun had been nice — maybe too nice — to her for the past week. He hadn’t said a single mean thing after she repeatedly messed up coffee orders and pastry recipes. That had been the only reason why working in this bakery had been bearable for her, when her schedule was jam-packed and exams were drawing uncomfortably close.
She spared a glance in his direction. Baekhyun was opening a bag of coffee beans, pouring the coffee beans into the espresso machine. He is awfully adorable, y/n mused. His hair was slightly ruffled from the wind outside, his eyes concentrated on the coffee bag as he carefully tipped it into the espresso machine. If she looked closer, she could see a tiny mole above the corner of his mouth. She wondered what it would be like to kiss—
Stop, he’s your boss, y/n mentally scolded herself. This job was important to her, and she didn’t want to jeopardize it by forming a stupid crush on her boss. Besides, everyone knew what a terrible idea it was to date someone you work with, let alone your boss.
“You’re being quiet today,” Baekhyun commented.
“Huh?” y/n turned to see Baekhyun standing right next to her by the counter. He was staring at her with a curious look in his eyes and a slight smile on his lips. He was awfully close to her. She prayed he hadn’t noticed the blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“I guess I’m a little tired. I’ve been really busy this week,” y/n said awkwardly. 
The door chimed as a customer walked in. y/n silently thanked the gods as the customer ordered a cappuccino.
y/n made her way over to the fridge, pouring a cup of milk before absentmindedly placing the cup under the milk steamer, turning it on. She didn’t notice when Baekhyun strode over to the milk steamer to stand beside her and looked down at the cup.
“Uh,” Baekhyun said, “that’s not how you foam milk.”
y/n felt herself flush again. She couldn’t believe she had made another mistake over something so simple. After working at this bakery for a week, she couldn’t even foam milk properly. y/n really must be the worst employee any bakery has ever seen. 
Before y/n could apologize, Baekhyun spoke. “Don’t apologize. It’s my fault for not teaching you properly. I thought I had gone over everything with the drinks already, but I forgot I didn’t teach you how to use the steamer.”
He reached out his hand to rest over y/n’s hand that was holding the cup. He guided her hand slightly downwards, so that the tip of the steaming wand was submerged in the milk. He murmured instructions, his face inches away from hers. She stared at the steamer as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, trying desperately not to think of the softness of his hand against hers, or the feel of his breath against her ear. She could feel her heart pound against her ribcage. Get it together, she told herself, he’s your boss.
“See how fluffy the milk became? That’s some quality foam you can use in a cappuccino,” Baekhyun declared, seemingly unaware of y/n’s panic beside him.
His hand lingered on hers for just a second after the milk finished frothing, his thumb softly grazing the back of her hand like a feather. He pulled away reluctantly.
“Now you’ll be able to make any drink that needs foamed milk!” Baekhyun said with a smile. She wondered how he managed to be so cheery all the time, despite her utter incompetence at her job. 
“Thank you,” she managed. “I know I haven’t, uh, been the best at this job. You’ve been so supportive and nice to me, even though I don’t probably deserve it. I just want to say thank you for that.”
“You don’t have to thank me. There’s a lot on your plate right now. Trust me, I know how hard it is to work a job as a student. You’ll know everything by heart soon, don’t worry. I believe in you!” Baekhyun looked at her sincerely. From this close, she could see his soft brown eyes speckled with darker shades of brown. They were like a warm pool of hot chocolate in the soft morning light.
y/n and Baekhyun were interrupted in their little moment by the bakery’s door chiming open again.
As Baekhyun walked over to take the order, y/n found her mind wandering back to what Sehun had said earlier.
He was right. Baekhyun was nice to her — to the point that it made her feel a little guilty. No guy had ever treated her this well, lest a guy who was supposed to be her boss. The last time he acted like this was when he met his ex, Sehun had said. y/n suspected that Sehun had been messing around, but she couldn’t help but wonder. 
For a second, she let herself think of a universe where this sweet, adorable pastry chef could ever have feelings for her. She knew it was probably impossible — these fairytale, rom-com type romances were unrealistic and tended to never happen to her. She also knew that she should be trying hard to not develop an irreversible crush on her boss right now. It was hard not to, but for just a second, she could risk falling into a daydream.
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Later that day, y/n rushed from one end of the counter to another, busily getting the bakery ready for closing. Baekhyun had left a few hours ago, giving y/n a thumbs-up and smile, saying that he trusted her to do a great job. The bakery was quiet except for the sound of giant coffee jugs emptying into the sink and the soft jazz music playing in the background as y/n worked. There was only one customer still remaining in the bakery, a man sitting at a table, staring down at his phone.
y/n glanced up out of the big window that looked out onto the dark streets. The sun had started setting earlier as the weather turned colder, and the sky was deepening from a shade of navy blue into pitch black. She freely hummed to the music playing in the background as she wiped down the counter. She looked up at the clock behind the counter, marking 9PM. It was closing time.
The man sitting at the table was still hunched down, looking at his phone. y/n awkwardly cleared her throat.
“Um, excuse me…but the bakery is closing right now.”
The man turned his head. He looked slightly older than y/n, but still young. His overgrown dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as he blinked at her with a slight blush on his cheeks. He wore an oversized black hoodie and black skinny jeans. She recognized him as the guy who had been visiting the bakery so often.
“Oh, okay. I’ll leave, then.” he said, barely a whisper. He got up, pushed the chair in, and left.
As the door closed shut, y/n let out the breath she had been holding in unknowingly. She was always a bit nervous when she was by herself during a night shift, with a single customer in the bakery. Especially if the customer was a man sitting by himself.
y/n finished up her job, double checking everything before she gathered her things and locked the bakery door behind her. The sun had completely set, the sky black and only lit by the streetlamps lining the narrow street. The bakery was on a small street near the main campus of her university, only a few blocks away from her apartment.
She clutched her canvas bag to her side as she began making her way down the street. She walked about a block or so before she noticed a man following behind her. She slightly turned her head and saw the same man who had just left the bakery.
A panic rose in her stomach. The man had left the bakery several minutes before, long enough that he should’ve been long gone from this street. He must’ve waited outside until I was done, she thought. She felt another bubble of fear rise up inside her. She was reminded of countless stories about her friends, being followed by men late at night in the city streets, having to call someone to pick them up out of fear or even call the cops.
She looked back again as she turned a corner. The man was still following her. He looked terrifying in the dark, his face completely hidden under the shadow of his hoodie and his fast strides threatening to catch up to her any second. 
y/n reached for her phone in her bag, frantically thinking of people she could call. Most of her friends lived on the other side of campus, and they would take at least fifteen minutes to walk over to her. She helplessly raked through her brain, thinking of people she knew that lived near her. Then she remembered Baekhyun three days ago, mentioning that he lived a block away from the bakery and didn’t need to take the bus when Sehun complained about the crowded bus ride from his apartment.
She dialed his number without thinking twice.
“y/n?” Baekhyun’s voice rang out after a few moments. “Are you heading home now? How was your closing shift? You probably did great, so don’t even—”
“Where are you right now? Are you close yet?” y/n spoke louder than usual, making sure the man trailing behind her could clearly hear. She wondered if her voice sounded as nervous on the phone as she was feeling on the inside. She spared another glance backwards to see the man still walking behind her, less than half a block away from her.
“y/n? What do you mean? I’m—”
“It’s like, so dark out. Please don’t be late picking me up like last time.”
“...where are you, y/n?” Baekhyun’s voice, deep in concern, answered over the phone.
“Our usual spot. Like a block away from the bakery.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in two minutes.”
Two minutes? y/n was sure he was at least five minutes away if he was lucky. She stopped underneath a streetlamp and heard the footsteps from behind cease. She crossed her arms and thought about the pepper spray she had left back in a drawer in her bedroom. She remembered her dad giving it to her before leaving for college and making her promise him that she would carry it. Never did y/n think something like this would actually happen. 
A minute had passed. The footsteps resumed unexpectedly and began to approach her. y/n’s heart raced even faster. She didn’t dare look behind her. Instead, she reached inside her pocket to fish out her apartment key. She recalled reading somewhere that keys could be wedged between the fingers and used for self defense.
“y/n!” Before she could pull a move on her stalker, she heard Baekhyun call out her name and looked down the street, watching him running as fast as he could, strands of hair flopping against his forehead. She barely recognized him in his hoodie and sweatpants, his hair damp as if he had just stepped out of the shower.
The stalker was clearly surprised by the sudden interference. y/n could see him slowly back away in her peripheral vision.
As Baekhyun approached, y/n couldn’t help but feel relieved to see his face. His features became clearer when he arrived under the yellow toned streetlamp. He grabbed y/n by the arms as soon as he was close enough to reach for her.
“Baby, did you wait long? I’m so sorry.” Baekhyun leaned down to look at y/n’s face and pouted his lips to express how bad he felt about being late when in fact, it had taken him only a few minutes to get to y/n from his apartment.
Baekhyun then put his arms around her, squeezing her body close against his, and y/n could feel his heart pounding against his chest. The smell of fabric softener mixed with strawberry-scented body wash engulfed y/n as half of her face got buried in Baekhyun’s hoodie.
Was Baekhyun trying to act like her boyfriend?
“Baekhyun, you don’t have to—”
Baekhyun lowered his face next to y/n’s and quietly whispered just for them to hear. “I called the police. They’re going to be here any minute.”
He raised his voice again. “Let’s get you home. I missed you all day! I’ll give you a lot of kisses to make up for it.”
y/n turned her head a little to the side to look at the street behind her. The stalker was walking away from them quickly, disappearing behind a corner. y/n felt her body relax a little when she could no longer see him anymore.
Baekhyun’s arms remained tight around her, even as the street became silent and they could no longer hear the footsteps of the stalker behind them. y/n could feel the brush of his hands against her back as she buried her face in his shoulder.
Now y/n’s heartbeat was louder than Baekhyun’s. It was thrumming in her ears and she became worried that Baekhyun could hear it too. 
“I think you can let me go now.” y/n muttered, her voice muffled by the fabric of Baekhyun’s hoodie.
“I can feel you shaking, y/n.” Baekhyun quietly said. 
y/n raised her hand that had been hanging limply by her side. She saw it tremble against the dim glow of the streetlamps beside her.
Cue the police, sirens came blaring down the street, but y/n was sure the sound of her heartbeat was louder.
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After a short interrogation by the police on the incident, y/n and Baekhyun silently climbed up the stairs of her three-story walkup. He had insisted that he at least walk her home, seeing how pale and shaky she had been after the incident.
When y/n and Baekhyun arrived at her door, y/n awkwardly pulled out her apartment key. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Baekhyun carefully asked.
y/n nodded hesitantly to assure him, “It’s late. You should head home too.”, but she wasn’t actually okay. She was scared. Her hand was still shaking and she could barely manage to fit her key through the keyhole.
“Okay,” he said hesitantly, “if you need anything, let me know.” He pulled his lips into a slight grin and waited for y/n to get into her apartment.
She stepped in and lingered for a moment before turning back around. “Actually…can you stay for a little bit? I don’t think I can handle being alone right now.” 
Baekhyun raised his eyebrows at the sudden change of heart. He nodded and said, “Of course.”
y/n instantly regretted her decision as soon as they both stepped into her apartment. She saw a million things in disarray. She quickly snatched up a stray bra on the couch before throwing it under a pillow before Baekhyun could see. 
Baekhyun didn’t seem to notice the state of her apartment. His gaze remained on her pale face as he reached over and grabbed a knitted blanket, haphazardly thrown over her couch. He walked over and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl.
“I’ll stay in your living room. Is that okay?” Baekhyun sat down on the floor at the base of the couch. 
“Yeah.” y/n answered before heading into her bedroom to get ready to wash and take a shower. 
y/n stepped out of the shower and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. She could smell something sweet wafting down the hallway leading to the living room. It reminded her of the bakery, but not quite.
“I hope you don’t mind that I used your kettle. I saw a pack of hot chocolate lying on your counter and I figured you could use a cup.” Baekhyun held up a mug, steam rolling off into the air. The air filled with her favorite chocolate scent.
y/n sat down on the opposite side and relished the warmth of the cup of hot chocolate in her palms. She sipped on the warm, sugary drink. 
“Thank you so much, for everything.” she said after a long, comfortable silence. She glanced over the mug at his face, still scrunched up with concern.
He waited until y/n fished her cup. “You should sleep now.”
y/n nodded in agreement. “You can go home if you would like.”
Baekhyun just lightly smiled and waved at her to go sleep in her bedroom. “I can sleep on the couch. Goodnight, y/n.”
y/n climbed into bed and pulled her covers up to her chin. There was no way y/n was sleeping with Baekhyun in her living room. As comfortable as Baekhyun made y/n feel, his presence made her nervous, but not in a bad way. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to sleep. Finally, after much contemplation, y/n pulled out her phone and called Baekhyun for the second time that night.
He answered after a few seconds. “Hello?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Baekhyun hummed before saying, “Okay, what do you need. A lullaby?”
y/n thought he was joking, but Baekhyun patiently waited for her response.
“Sure..? You aren’t joking, are you.”
“It’s up to you.” Baekhyun answered.
“Do you want to come in?” y/n heard a knock on the door shortly and watched Baekhyun walk in. She took a hand and patted the empty space next to her on the bed, indicating for Baekhyun to sit down. She felt the side of the bed sink as he settled on top of the blanket.
Baekhyun had a beautifully soft voice that waved through the air like the smell of freshly made brownies. Something about it made y/n’s heart swell. He effortlessly made y/n start to feel sleepy with the gentle tone of his voice. y/n clung onto every note as she fell deeper into sleep, Baekhyun’s sweet lullaby dimming into a distant melody in the background. y/n couldn’t remember if she felt a hand, just as soft as his song, delicately stroking her hair until she fell asleep. 
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y/n woke up with a start. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at the sunlight pouring in through her curtains. Her head swarmed with the memories of the previous night, of Baekhyun’s arm around hers, of Baekhyun’s presence in her bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. She craned her head up at the side of the bed Baekhyun had been laying on the night before. It was empty. He must’ve left after she fell asleep.
Then she wondered why she had woken up without the sound of her alarm blaring in her ear.
Crap, crap, I slept through my alarm, she thought in panic. She had worked the closing shift the night before, so it must be Friday. Shit, my morning shift.
She flailed her arms out of the mound of blankets she was buried under and grabbed her phone on the nightstand. It was 7:30AM, thirty minutes after the beginning of her usual morning shift. She let out a curse again as she scrolled through her messages, expecting a series of texts from Baekhyun demanding of her whereabouts. She was only met with a single text from him:
[are you coming in for your shift today? if not, i got it covered.]
y/n was not about to miss her shift, especially when she had inconvenienced Baekhyun so much the night before. She hurriedly hopped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She shoved a toothbrush in her mouth, washed her face, and ungracefully pulled on a pair of jeans. She decided the worn down white t-shirt she had on overnight was good enough for work. 
As she opened the door to bolt down to the bakery, she remembered she still had her toothbrush wedged between her teeth. She ran back inside with her shoes still on her feet and quickly washed the foamy toothpaste out of her mouth. 
y/n arrived at the bakery two minutes before the clock hit 8:00 AM, the opening time. Heavy breaths left her lungs from speed walking down the street and trying not to run into busy pedestrians at the same time. 
“...you stayed?! Baekhyun, are you kidding me.” Sehun’s aggravated voice could be heard as soon as y/n entered the store.
“Listen, Sehun. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I left as soon as—” Baekhyun was seemingly trying to calm Sehun down.
y/n interrupted their conversation with a greeting, “Good morning! I’m so sorry I’m late. I got here as fast as I could.”
Sehun glared at y/n. On the other hand, Baekhyun looked happy to see her. 
“y/n! So glad you could make it. Did you sleep well?” Baekhyun asked while y/n grabbed her apron from behind the counter. 
With a hushed voice, y/n responded, “Yeah, thank you so much. I’ll make last night up to you somehow.” She was scared Sehun might overhear their conversation. 
She waited for Baekhyun’s response, but he just stared at her, a slight frown forming on his face. 
“Baekhyun? Is something wrong?”
“Hold on,” Baekhyun murmured. He then reached out a hand towards her, y/n flinching slightly at the motion. He rubbed his thumb across the corner of her mouth, wiping away a streak of dry toothpaste. 
“You got toothpaste right there.” Baekhyun held up his hand for y/n to see and smiled mischievously. 
“Oh.” y/n couldn’t help but slightly get red in embarrassment. 
She glanced behind Baekhyun to see Sehun standing behind them. Sehun met her eyes and pretended to gag.
Her day went by surprisingly quickly. Her mind occasionally wandered from the stalker to the thought of Baekhyun’s hand in her hair last night and on her mouth this morning, but she was able to push it out of the way as she tied her hair and greeted a customer walking into the bakery. 
At the end of her shift, y/n quickly headed back home. She sat down at her desk to get a little bit of studying done for her upcoming exams. She was walking over to her kitchen for her second cup of coffee of the day when she took a look outside her apartment window. The sun was already setting over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of bright pink and orange. 
It was her friend’s birthday, and she was planning to go out tonight, finally a break from school and work. y/n changed into a mini skirt and a warm navy sweater, so that she wouldn’t freeze to death on a fall night. 
y/n arrived at the bar where her friend had booked a room for a party and was met with an excited harmony of greetings and a slam of a hug from the birthday girl, Joohyun. 
“y/n! You finally escaped from work!” Joohyun exclaimed. 
y/n smiled and took in a shot of tequila someone just handed her. The bitter tang made her wince, but Joohyun was right. She decided to let loose for the night. 
After a few more shots in, y/n was ready to go home. She could not pay any attention to any of the conversations that were going on during the party. The music was too loud in her eardrums and the lighting made everything harder to see. y/n’s senses were failing her. 
Suddenly, someone called for her.
She turned towards Joohyun who eagerly opened her mouth, “How is your love life? Seulgi over here got cheated on last month. Yerim just started dating like yesterday. Seungwan is getting fucked left and right. I’m…single as fuck!” Joohyun giggled, clearly drunk. “What about you, y/n? Let me in on the tea.”
y/n wondered if she had any romantic interests right now. She was too high on the alcohol to think before she spoke.
“Hmmm, I think…I find this one guy kinda cute,” y/n felt her face flush, as if it wasn’t red enough already. 
“Oh my, who is it?!” Joohyun nearly squealed and brought the attention of others.
y/n didn’t know if it was okay to talk about how she was lowkey hitting on her boss, but it was too late now. “My boss.”
A hushed gasp left Joohyun’s lips. “The guy at the bakery? With the cutest fucking eyes? Oh my goodness, you do realize, like, half the girls on campus think he’s cute too, right?”
y/n was slightly shocked at the news, but after all, the bakery was just right outside campus so most of their customers were college students.  
“I didn’t realize…” y/n stopped for a few seconds before asking, “Do you think he has a girlfriend right now?” y/n doubted it, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 
Joohyun shrugged and let out another set of giggles. “Please get with him. You guys would be so cute together. Maybe you can convince him to give me free brownies. They’re so good.”
y/n blushed at the thought and downed a shot of lemon flavored vodka that bit at the back of her throat. 
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Later that night, y/n was startled by the sound of her doorbell. She stumbled towards the door, puzzled. Her friends usually didn’t randomly pop into her apartment without earlier notice, and she wasn’t expecting any packages this late into the night. Each step got harder and harder to balance on — she was not in the right state of mind to greet guests at the moment.
She stood on tiptoes to look out the peephole. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized it was Baekhyun.
She quickly shimmied her skirt to its original position so she wouldn’t scare Baekhyun by flashing him, and combed through her hair with her hands a few times. She opened the door to reveal a concerned Baekhyun shifting anxiously on his feet. A look of relief washed over his face when he saw y/n, but returned to looking worried when he saw how disheveled she was. 
“Baekhyun? What are you doing here?” y/n asked groggily, although she was more than happy in his presence. She noticed he was hugging a large picnic basket. 
Baekhyun looked at y/n with puppy eyes. Cute, cute, cute., y/n thought.
“I wanted to make sure you got home safely, but you weren’t answering your phone.”
y/n’s heart stupidly fluttered at the fact that Baekhyun was worried for her. “I just went out for the night. Friend’s birthday.” 
She pointed at the picnic basket Baekhyun was holding so dearly. “What’s that?”
Baekhyun grinned shyly. “I…I didn’t want to come empty handed if you were home, so I brought a few things.” His smile widened when she met his eyes, his eyes crinkling into endearing crescent shapes again. Even though she was surprised by his sudden appearance, she couldn’t help but return his smile.
“I figured you might miss being around so many pastries tomorrow, since you have the day off.” Baekhyun said. He opened the picnic basket to reveal an arrangement of cupcakes, cookies, brownies, and every other pastry y/n could ever dream of.
y/n gasped. “Baekhyun, you didn’t have to—”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” Baekhyun said firmly. “Can I come in?”
“O-of course.” y/n opened the door wider, taking the picnic basket from him to set down on her dining table. y/n could still feel the booze making her feel like she was floating, but at this point she wasn’t sure if it was Baekhyun or alcohol that was making her head feel dizzy and heart rate elevated. 
Baekhyun walked into her living room, standing in the space he had been in less than 24 hours ago. He looked strangely at home, standing in the middle of her still-messy apartment. 
“I’m going to miss having you around tomorrow.” he said.
“Oh, it’s only a day. I’m sure Sehun will keep you company.” Of course, y/n knew that wasn’t the real reason he’d showed up to her house with a picnic basket. He was worried about her. She had been in bad shape last night, pale and shaking in Baekhyun’s arms even as the police crowded around them. She had barely managed to fall asleep, only able to drift off to the sound of Baekhyun’s soft singing voice.
y/n still couldn’t fathom why anyone, especially someone as attractive as Baekhyun, would care so much about her. She’d never had a guy treat her so well, to the point he would show up at her door with a giant basket full of sweet pastries just to cheer her up. The thought of Baekhyun, carefully gathering each pastry at his bakery to pack into this picnic basket, made her heart ache. She suddenly felt a sting in her eyes and an urge to tear up. Don’t, she warned herself. She had cried in front of him once, and that was already far too many times.
Unfazed by y/n’s sudden silence, Baekhyun casually started talking about what had happened at the bakery after her shift.
“You won’t believe what happened after you left today. Sehun completely messed up the ingredients for the pound cake recipe. I told him it’s three cups of flour, like, five times, but guess what he did. He only added one! I swear, he does it on purpose to spite me sometimes. Then he has the audacity to blame the whole thing on me…”
Baekhyun’s voice faded out into a soft hum in y/n’s ears as she was suddenly overcome with thoughts of Baekhyun that she had pushed to the back of her mind all day. Thoughts of the soft touch of his hand against her back as he held her close to him, the gentle pressure of his fingers as they stroked her hair, his impossibly sweet voice, lulling her to sleep, rushed to the forefront of her mind. The scent of fresh laundry and strawberries that waved through the air with Baekhyun’s every movement didn’t help, either.
“...and then, if that hadn’t been enough, he has the nerve to accidentally spill the bowl of egg yolk on the floor. I almost slipped on it and fell straight on my face in front of everyone. I’m this close to firing this kid, I swear. I would’ve fired him a long time ago if he wasn’t such a good friend.” Baekhyun continued to speak, oblivious to y/n getting more and more flustered by the second.
“Anyways, enough about me and Sehun. How was your day? I see you’ve been studying.” Baekhyun gestured at the huge pile of notebooks and papers that had gathered on top of her small desk by the window.
He looked so lovable in that moment, standing there in her apartment with his hair casually ruffled. His eyes glimmered as he gazed down at her, his lips twisting up to form another smile that made y/n’s stomach fill with butterflies. He was so close, close enough that she could see the tiny mole in the corner of his mouth once again. If she looked closer, she could see another one on the apple of his cheek. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. 
Before she could even comprehend what she was doing, she was reaching up on her tiptoes, placing her palms on the sides of his cheeks. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his. Baekhyun made a surprised noise in response. The comforting scent of fabric softener and strawberries became even stronger when she kissed him, but she could smell something sharp and sweeter…was it cinnamon? y/n kissed Baekhyun for a moment longer to make sure, and he let her, holding her arms to keep her there.
When y/n realized what she was doing, she pulled back, breaking their kiss. 
“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—” she stammered. She couldn’t believe she had the balls to kiss her boss out of pure impulse. She kept her eyes fixated on her feet in embarrassment. When she gathered the courage to look at Baekhyun, she was surprised to find that his face was shaded in a bright shade of pink, the color that she was expecting her own face to be. He was looking at y/n with a confused look on his face. 
“Uh, I should probably head home,” he said nervously. y/n could see his gaze slightly waver. “I hope you like the pastries…I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Baekhyun rushed across her living room before she could say anything. He shut the door behind him and he was gone.
y/n cringed as she heard her door close shut. Guilt and shame built inside her. She had thought her feelings for Baekhyun had been just a harmless crush, something that she could get over in a few weeks if she tried. She hadn’t expected herself to actually make a move, let alone try to kiss him. How was she going to face him on Monday?
She trudged to her bedroom, flopped down on her bed, and buried her head in her pillow. y/n couldn’t stop her mind from thinking about her lips eagerly pressed against Baekhyun's. She let out a groan. The lingering scent of fabric softener, strawberries, and pastries…Baekhyun was making her feel lightheaded.
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A week had gone by, with neither Baekhyun nor y/n willing to talk about the kiss. Only short, formal conversations were exchanged between the two. In fact, Baekhyun seemed to avoid her at all costs, his face turning scarlet whenever she was around and refusing to make eye contact. He shied away from every possible interaction with her. 
Baekhyun also seemed to be making an unusually large amount of mistakes around the bakery in the past week. Spilling drinks all over himself had become a daily occurrence, to the point where Sehun stood by with a mop in his hand every time Baekhyun received a drink order. A few days ago, he had knocked over an entire tray of freshly made eclairs onto the ground. Sehun walked on to the scene and saw a horrifying mess of custard and pastries. He shook his head in disappointment.
“Baekhyun. You’re making rookie mistakes I don’t even make anymore.” Sehun harshly commented. “Is something up? Last time you were this unfocused was when Mina broke up with you.” 
y/n was pretty sure the mistakes he’d been making all week had something to do with the fact that she had kissed him. She felt extreme guilt in the pit of her stomach. He probably felt so uncomfortable around her, but he was too nice to fire her or even say a single word about it. 
One afternoon, as she reached the bakery, she could hear Sehun’s incredulous voice ringing out from the propped open door. “She kissed you?”
y/n flushed. They were talking about her. She heard a furious shushing noise from Baekhyun.
“What the fuck, Baekhyun? When did this happen?”
“Like, a week ago?”
“And you didn’t think to tell me? I fucking knew something happened between you guys! You’ve been acting like a complete idiot around her all week. You know how nauseating it is for me to watch you guys make heart eyes at each other all day, only for you to not make a single move?” Sehun sounded exasperated. “I swear to god, if you spill another drink because you’re too busy staring at her, I’m going to quit—”
Sehun stopped talking once he saw y/n walk through the door. Baekhyun looked up, his face turning the usual shade of pink when he saw her.
“Hi,” she said nervously.
“Good afternoon.” Baekhyun said, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he looked back down at his hands. Sehun took a look at y/n, then at Baekhyun, before letting out an annoyed groan.
“y/n, get your ass over here. I need help in the kitchen.” Sehun announced, making his way into the kitchen without another word.
y/n gave Baekhyun an awkward smile before she followed Sehun into the kitchen. Sehun was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a frown on his face.
“What do you need help with?” she asked.
“Our boss is in love with you, fix it.” Sehun said too casually.
“What?”
“I’m just kidding, I don’t actually know if he’s in love with you yet. He definitely likes you, though.” Sehun said, sparing a glance out the kitchen door to look at Baekhyun. “He’s been acting like a dumbass all week. Because of you.” Sehun pointed a finger at her.
y/n’s head spun. She doubted that Baekhyun even had an ounce of feelings for her, but she remembered that Sehun had known Baekhyun for far longer than she had. If Baekhyun had feelings for her, even by a slim chance, then surely Sehun would know. She felt a sliver of hope rise in her chest.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she muttered, but Sehun gave her an incredulous look.
“I pretend I don’t give a shit ninety percent of the time, but Baekhyun is one of my oldest friends. He had a really bad breakup a couple years ago, and he hasn’t been the same ever since. I don’t think he’s had a single girlfriend since then. I just—” Sehun trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “I care about him, okay? I want him to find someone, so if you’re the one he’s into, then I wish you would give him a chance. That’s all. Not that you have to, of course. I completely understand if you don't. He can be a shithead sometimes.” 
“What are you guys doing in there?” Baekhyun’s voice sounded from the counter.
“Just think about it.” Sehun sighed before walking over to the register, leaving her standing in the middle of the kitchen, more confused than ever.
The rest of the shift went by swimmingly. Sehun left a couple hours later to head to class, giving her a knowing look before heading out. y/n felt both anticipation and nervousness at the thought of being alone with Baekhyun. The bakery was completely empty, save for a couple sitting in a secluded booth in the back.
Baekhyun was in the kitchen, staring at a batch of cookies that was almost ready to come out of the oven. You should at least talk to him, y/n told herself words of encouragement. Despite what Sehun had said, y/n wasn’t entirely sure that Baekhyun actually liked her romantically. After all, he hadn’t kissed her back that night. That’s because you pulled away before he could even do anything, reasoned a small voice in her mind. She shook the thought away. She couldn’t make any assumptions before she talked to him. The last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.
She slowly made her way into the kitchen. “Um, can I talk to you?” she asked.
Baekhyun looked up and nodded. He looked absolutely adorable, as he usually did, with his hair slightly ruffled right above his dark eyebrows and his light blue button-down slightly wrinkled under his apron.
“Hey, I realized we haven’t been able to talk to each other recently.” y/n cringed as she said. “And I bet it’s because I, uh, kissed you that night when you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say sorry again, that was so unprofessional of me, and I shouldn’t have done that. I really like working here, so I hope you don’t fire me or anything, but if you want to, I completely understand.” 
Baekhyun looked completely dumbfounded. He stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open a little.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been avoiding me all week! You barely talk to me, even when it’s only the two of us here, and you wouldn’t even look at me! I…I just feel like I’ve made you feel so uncomfortable, with, you know, what I did. I’m so sorry. If you want to pretend it never happened, that’s fine with me. I just wanted to apologize—” y/n nervously kept rambling on and on, fearing what was to come next. Her face was a bright red by now, she was sure of it. She wiped her palm on her jeans, wondering if the rising heat of the room was because of the oven, or if it was just her imagination.
Baekhyun shifted a few steps closer to her. y/n could barely manage to look up at him. 
“Why in the world would I fire you? I love having you here, you never have to worry about that.” he said sincerely. “And besides, I don’t want to pretend it never happened.”
“W-what?” she could only manage to say.
Baekhyun was getting noticeably red. “I said, I don’t want to pretend it never happened.” 
y/n’s brain ceased to work. They stood in silence as she struggled to comprehend what Baekhyun had just said.
“Can we kiss again, or was that a one time thing?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. 
Baekhyun nervously bit the bottom of his lip, his mole more apparent above his mouth now, reminding y/n of that night again. y/n’s heart was doing jumping jacks in her chest. No, she wouldn’t mind kissing Baekhyun a few more times. 
“Yes,” she answered, “we can kiss again.”
He closed the gap between them in seconds. He reached out to gently cup her face in his hands, his brown eyes boring into hers. He craned his head down to lightly brush his lips against hers. y/n held her breath as Baekhyun shifted slightly to fit her lips better. His hands trailed down from her face, coming to rest on her sides. She felt herself sigh against his mouth as she stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, feeling his soft lips against her.
He tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping across her lips and parting her mouth. She thought she heard something ring in the background, but she forgot about it instantly when she lightly bit at Baekhyun’s bottom lip, and he let out a quiet moan in the back of his throat.
“I think the cookies are burning,” y/n managed to say between a mess of their lips when the room started to fill up with smoke. Baekhyun reluctantly pulled back, his hands still gently gripping her sides.
“Oh, no.” he groaned, burying his face in the nook where y/n’s neck and shoulder met. He opened the oven, letting a gush of smoke blow out. 
“Reminds me of your first day here.” Baekhyun commented playfully.
“I was surprised you didn’t fire me on the spot.” y/n cringed.
“You were too cute to fire over some burnt cookies.” He gave her a shy smile before taking the cookies out. They were burnt to a crisp once again. At least this time it wasn’t all her fault.
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y/n had just plopped down onto her couch after a long day at school when her phone started ringing. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies when she saw the name Baekhyun flashing on her phone screen.
“Hi, Baekhyun,” y/n answered.
“y/n, are you free this weekend?” Baekhyun asked.
y/n thought about her schedule for a few seconds before answering. “Hm, I don’t have a whole lot to do. I just finished this big assignment today, thank god.”
“Great! Well…” Baekhyun hesitated. “Would you like to come over? I can make us dinner, maybe watch a movie…”
“I would love to!” y/n said a little too enthusiastically, a silly smile taking over her face.
“Does Saturday at seven sound good?”
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, trying to imagine Baekhyun with the same goofy smile on his face. Her heart warmed at the thought.
“It’s a date.” he added before hanging up. y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She tried her very best to not squeal with excitement like a teenager.
The rest of the week seemed to pass by in a blur as she counted the days to her date with Baekhyun. Before she knew it, she was nervously standing in front of Baekhyun’s door, waiting for him to answer. It’s only Baekhyun, she told herself reassuringly, you literally see him every other day.
y/n’s heart still did flips in her chest when Baekhyun answered the door, inviting her in with a sunny smile. He looked handsome as usual, with his hair styled and a baby blue sweater comfortably hugging his lean figure. His apartment was small but cozy, not much bigger than hers. Soft browns and blues adorned parts of the apartment. She could see touches of his personality around the place, from a framed photo of him with Sehun and two other guys, to a colorful apron hanging on a hook by the kitchen. y/n hadn’t realized that Baekhyun’s apartment would smell exactly how he did, except the fragrance of strawberries stood out more intensely over the smell of fresh laundry.
She walked in a little further to be met with a table with two plates of roasted steak and vegetables, softly lit by candlelights.
“I hope you like the menu.” Baekhyun commented. There was no way y/n wasn’t going to like the menu — she already knew she was going to love everything Baekhyun cooked.
“Wow, Baekhyun. This looks really good.” y/n complimented him as he pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, admiring not only the food, but also the beautifully set table with a small floral centerpiece. 
“I would make an amazing house-husband.” Baekhyun said with a wink, making her chuckle.
“Shall we dig in?” y/n asked, fork and knife ready in her hands. 
Baekhyun nodded. He waited for y/n to cut a small piece of her steak and put it in her mouth. 
“Is it good?” Baekhyun looked at y/n, anxiously waiting for an answer.
“I haven’t even started chewing,” y/n said, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Oh.” Baekhyun’s face reddened as he realized hadn’t given her the chance to fully taste her food before asking. 
After a few moments, y/n’s eyes widened at the tenderness of the steak. It was seasoned perfectly, too. “It’s delicious,” she complemented, “maybe you should’ve opened a restaurant instead of a bakery.”
“I learned how to cook from my grandma,” Baekhyun explained, “she lives in Gangwon-do! I visit her every now and then.”
This was y/n’s first time hearing about Baekhyun’s family. She listened with curiosity. 
“She makes amazing Korean dishes, but I swear she can cook the best steak. She can do Chinese, Japanese, Italian…the list goes on. My personal favorite is her soybean paste stew.” 
y/n watched Baekhyun get lost in the thought of his grandmother and her cooking. It was sort of endearing and y/n could imagine Baekhyun adorably waiting at the dinner table for his grandmother to bring out delicious plates of his favorite food. “Wow, I can only imagine.”
“You should come with me to visit her sometime.” Baekhyun commented casually.
y/n’s heart stirred as she wondered what that could mean for them. 
The meal went by pleasantly, filled with soft laughter and conversation. Baekhyun fondly mentioned how he had known Sehun for years, and y/n’s eyes sparkled in interest; she had always wondered how he and Sehun had become so close.
“You and Sehun seem really close — close considering you guys work together, I mean.”
Baekhyun nodded. “We grew up together back when I lived with my grandma. My parents were busy working 24/7, so they thought it would be better to have her take care of me. Sehun lived next door to our place until I had to move out for college, so I guess it was natural that we grew close.”
y/n had no clue that their relationship went far back. “What about now? How is he working for you?”
Baekhyun grinned as he reminisced about the past. “Ah, I visited my grandma one year and he was still living next door, freshly out of high school. He was about to head off to college in the city, so I asked him to come work in my bakery as a part timer. He said no at first, of course, but he caved in after I bribed him with a few cups of his favorite chocolate bubble tea.”
y/n giggled at the image of Sehun grumpily agreeing to work for Baekhyun as he sipped on the drink. 
“What about you, y/n?” Baekhyun asked as he forked a piece of asparagus.
“Me?”
“I feel like I’ve been only talking about myself.” Baekhyun pointed out. “Do you have any close friends?”
Joohyun’s face immediately surfaced to y/n’s mind. “Joohyun! We’ve been friends since high school. We ended up at the same college together, although I don’t see her that often. She’s an art history major, and I’m studying psychology, so we don’t have that many chances to see each other on campus. We’re both so busy these days.”
“I know how that feels,” Baekhyun said wistfully, “my two best friends from high school — Chanyeol and Kyungsoo — work in different cities, so I find that it’s hard to see them. I should call them to catch up sometime…they might tell me to fuck off, though.”
As Baekhyun and y/n worked through their meal, y/n found out that Baekhyun’s ultimate goal was to open a chain of bakeries across the country.
“It’s unrealistic — the bakery only started doing well about a year ago, so I don’t want to jinx it or anything. Not a lot of people make it in this business. But it’s my dream.” Baekhyun said, looking a bit flustered. 
y/n reached out and placed her hand over his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, I know you can do it.” she told him. 
Baekhyun gave her a warm look, his eyes gleaming in the soft glow of the candles.
They conversed non-stop through the rest of their dinner, discussing what the best dessert at the bakery was, how Sehun never trusted her with the oven anymore, and whether y/n was ever going to manage to learn the meticulous task of latte art. When their plates emptied and stomachs were satisfied, they made their way over to the blue velvet couch in his living room. 
“Rom-com? Or horror?” Baekhyun held up two DVD cases for y/n to see.
“Who uses DVDs these days?” y/n jokingly remarked. “Doesn’t everyone use Netflix? Or Hulu?”
Baekhyun grumbled that he liked the manual labor of playing a DVD. He inserted the rom-com into his DVD player and settled on the couch beside her. He scooted closer to drape his arm around y/n’s shoulders. She fit perfectly in his embrace and snuggled into him, tucking her face into the side of his chest. His hands started playing with her hair and she giggled softly. Cuddling with Baekhyun was nice. She indulged in the scent of him, the usual aroma of fresh laundry and strawberries. 
“I’m so glad you started working for us at the bakery.” Baekhyun said in a tentative tone.
The following gap of silence told y/n that Baekhyun had something more to say, but was careful with being too upfront about his feelings. y/n craned her neck and kissed Baekhyun boldly on the lips. His eyes widened slightly and his cheeks flushed at her assertiveness. “I’m glad that I met you.” she told him.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that…I like you,” Baekhyun mumbled, face still red, “this sounds selfish, but I like having you in my life. I keep getting a bit flustered when you’re around — you make me feel like I’m having a crush, like I’m in high school again.”
Baekhyun buried his face in his hand in embarrassment. y/n’s lips tugged into a heartwarming smile at Baekhyun’s confession.
y/n felt an urge to tease him for being so straightforward with her. “Is that all?” she asked.
Baekhyun lifted his head out of his hand to see y/n eagerly waiting for a response. “I-I’ve been feeling this way ever since you started working at the bakery. I just can’t seem to take my eyes off of you. At first, I thought it was because I was worried that you might make a mistake and hurt yourself — but then I started searching for you even when it wasn’t your shift. It’s okay if you don’t feel as strongly as I do, but I just wanted to make my feelings clear—”
y/n stopped his words with another kiss, this time longer. “I feel the same way, Baekhyun.”
y/n could’ve sworn that Baekhyun’s smile when she pulled away was bright enough to rival the sun.
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The next morning, y/n walked to the bakery with an elated bounce in her step. The sun shone down beamingly onto the pretty autumn day, bright foliage lining the sidewalk. Whether the world actually looked beautiful that day, or if it just looked extra beautiful to her because of her happy mood, she did not know.
“Hi, y/n.” Baekhyun beamed and waved when y/n walked in, his face a light shade of pink. She saw Sehun standing besides him, rolling his eyes.
“Good morning!” y/n waved back with a smile on her face. Baekhyun seemed to be in a sunny mood today. He was softly humming along to a pop song playing in the background as he expertly made a caramel macchiato. Thankfully, he didn’t spill it this time, even with y/n around. 
“You guys seem cheery today.” Sehun noted, raising his eyebrows suspiciously. Baekhyun gave him an innocent smile as he handed the drink to a customer.
y/n’s shift passed by normally, everything the same as usual save for Baekhyun’s occasional glances and crescent-shaped smiles in her direction. Due to the upcoming midterms week, there were more students than usual pouring through the door of the bakery, grabbing a cup of coffee before they headed off to the nearby library.
There was finally a little break around lunchtime, when the flow of customers seemed to cease. The bakery was empty for the first time that day. y/n and Baekhyun stood by the register while Sehun went in the kitchen to ice a cake in chocolate ganache.
She turned to her right to see Baekhyun standing next to her, his head cocked to the side to look at y/n. He grinned and proceeded to plant a kiss on her cheek. “How’s your day going, love?” 
y/n blushed and shared a wide smile with Baekhyun. “I’m a little tired, but everything is going well! I managed to serve an iced latte in under three minutes today. Are you proud of me?”
Baekhyun booped y/n’s nose with his forefinger. “Yes, I am so proud.”
y/n let out a yawn. She had stayed up nearly all night after her date, trying to finish her assignments and study for her exam. The memory of Baekhyun had kept her in a good mood all morning despite her tiredness, but she felt the exhaustion finally settling into her body after the rush of customers.
“I’ll make you a coffee,” Baekhyun said, noticing her yawn. He made his way over to the espresso machine.
He was about to press the button on the machine when she walked over to wrap her arms around his waist from behind. She buried her face in his broad back, his frame lean but firm against her. She gently tickled his stomach and he let out a quiet laugh.
“Thank you,” she said softly, breathing in his scent.
“Oh my god, can you guys stop having sex in front of me?!” Sehun exclaimed. y/n and Baekhyun sprang apart, their faces scarlet. Sehun had just come out of the kitchen cautiously carrying a three-layer chocolate cake.
“We were just—” Baekhyun began, but Sehun interrupted.
“I will not stand being the third wheel of this bakery.” Sehun huffed, placing the cake down on the counter. He glared at them.
Baekhyun gave Sehun an annoyed look. “You know I’m the owner of this bakery, right? I make the rules.”
“Oh, so when I decide to wear sandals to work, I’m being unprofessional, but you guys can have a makeout session behind the register and it’s completely fine?” Sehun said angrily. 
y/n couldn’t help but giggle at Sehun’s reaction. He gave off the vibe of a little kid being annoyed at his parents for being affectionate to each other. 
“Aw, Sehun, are you sad that we don’t give you hugs?” y/n pouted, walking over to Sehun with her arms outstretched.
“No way. We are coworkers.” Sehun said coldly, running away to avoid her. y/n and Baekhyun laughed.
Their laughter was cut short when the door chimed and a young woman walked in. Baekhyun’s lips turned into a flat line.
She was tall, a couple inches taller than y/n maybe, and thin. Her hair was long and bleached blonde, tumbling down her shoulders in loose waves. She took no time to stride straight over to the register, where Baekhyun was standing, frozen in place. Her high heels clicked noisily against the wood flooring of the bakery. She looked at Baekhyun with an unreadable look on her face.
Sehun quietly cursed under his breath.
“Hi, Baekhyun.” she finally said after a prolonged silence, her voice hesitant.
“Mina,” Baekhyun breathed, “what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” she said, glancing over at y/n and Sehun, “maybe in private.”
Baekhyun stood, unblinking, still as a statue. His face was blank as he silently walked over to Mina. They sat down in a booth near the back of the bakery.
Once they were out of earshot, y/n turned to Sehun. He looked just as frozen as Baekhyun had been.
“Who’s that?” she asked, but she felt she already knew the answer.
“That’s Baekhyun’s ex, Mina, the one I told you about.” Sehun explained, eyes ladened in worry. “They met in college and dated for a little over two years. They went through a really bad breakup a few years ago and no one knows why. All I know is that he gets extremely agitated whenever someone brings her up. I have no idea why she’s here, he hasn’t seen her for years. She moved to another city not long after they broke up. For all I know, she’s a cold-hearted bitch.”
y/n nodded. She looked over at the booth where Baekhyun and Mina were talking in hushed voices. They sat across from each other, deep in conversation. Baekhyun had a bitter, almost chilling look on his face. 
“They were really serious. I remember they were even talking about getting married at one point. She better not be here trying to get back together with him or anything. He was heartbroken after they broke up.” Sehun followed y/n’s gaze to look suspiciously at Mina. It was times like this when y/n realized that beneath Sehun’s bratty persona, he actually cared about Baekhyun a lot. “She left him to be miserable on his own. If she’s trying to get him back, she better watch her back.”
Mina left after about twenty minutes. Baekhyun came back to the register, running his hand through his hair distractedly. He had a pained look on his face.
“What did she want?” Sehun asked, his arms crossed disapprovingly.
“I-it’s nothing for you to worry about.” Baekhyun said, barely making eye contact. “Sehun, can you take the closing shift today?”
“What? Why?”
“Something came up.” Baekhyun gave Sehun a look that seemed to mean something to Sehun. Sehun’s eyes softened. “Please?”
“Fine.” Sehun grumbled. y/n was surprised that Sehun agreed with little convincing. Sehun would’ve normally put up a fight, requiring Baekhyun to bribe him in some way.
Baekhyun was silent for the rest of the shift. y/n and Sehun walked on eggshells around him, careful not to say anything about Mina. They could tell her visit had put a lot on his mind. Baekhyun merely nodded or shook his head whenever he was asked something, and repeatedly stared out the window, deep in thought. 
“Hey Baekhyun, is everything okay?” y/n asked hesitantly.
Baekhyun looked at y/n and weakly smiled. “Yeah.”
y/n waited for Baekhyun to start talking about what was on his mind. “Mina, the girl that just came here, is my ex, if you couldn’t already tell.” He let out a heavy sigh before continuing. “We were pretty serious. Almost got married…but it didn’t work out. I don’t know why she suddenly showed up today. I really don’t want anything to do with her anymore.”
y/n appreciated his honesty, but didn’t know what to say.
“I’ll tell you more later if you want.” Baekhyun shared another smile with y/n when he sensed a bit of awkwardness between them. 
y/n tried not to think too much about what had happened with Baekhyun and Mina. She found it unsettling that Mina had visited him out of the blue, but she figured that Baekhyun would talk to her about it when he was ready. Still unnerved from the incident with Mina, y/n left the bakery around midafternoon, heading to the library to get a little studying done before her evening class.
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Baekhyun had no idea why Mina had randomly popped into his bakery without warning, and asked him to meet her at a Italian restaurant with three Michelin stars halfway across town. He let out an annoyed sigh as he turned the steering wheel of his car to pull into a small parking lot. He would’ve much preferred to be back at his bakery at that moment. He already felt bad about forcing Sehun to work the closing shift.
Mina was already sitting down at a table by the window. Her face lit up when she saw him. Baekhyun internally groaned, and made his way over to the table.
“I was surprised you said yes to this dinner,” Mina chirped.
Baekhyun pulled out his chair and sat down hastily. “I’m not going to stay for long. Ten minutes and I have to go back to work.”
Mina raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you have two people working for you now?”
“What do you want?” Baekhyun was not going to entertain her.
Conveniently for Mina, a waiter interrupted them with two plates of carbonara. Mina gave the waiter a small thank you when he placed the plates in front of her and Baekhyun.
“I got carbonara, your favorite.”
Baekhyun stared at Mina in disbelief. “Can you please tell me why you invited me to dinner so we can part ways?” 
Mina sighed. “I’m getting married, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun held his breath. He did not expect to hear that at all. 
“Congratulations. I bet he will treat you well.” Baekhyun said flatly.
Mina took a sip of her wine and eyed the ring on her left hand. She held it up for Baekhyun to see, a perfectly cut diamond glimmering in all angles. “Quite frankly, I don’t want this.”
“It’s a pretty ring.” Baekhyun commented.
Mina let out a dry laugh. “I missed you, Baekhyun.”
As if the night wasn’t already a series of surprising events, this comment was by far the worst one yet. Baekhyun deeply sighed in agony. Mina had left him to be lonely and heartbroken when he was in one of his darkest times. He couldn’t possibly understand how she managed to shamelessly act like nothing had happened between them.
“What the fuck are you saying, Mina? We broke up a long time ago. You’re getting married.” Baekhyun’s voice rose. “I’m also taken.” 
Mina grabbed Baekhyun’s hand across the table. “I won’t marry him if you’re willing to give us another chance. I can break the engagement if we get back together, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun’s jaw clenched at the offer. Mina hadn’t been like this when they first started dating. She was selfless, kind, and did what was best for those she loved. He saw nothing but a shell of her former self in front of him now. 
He ripped his hand out from under hers. “Look, we were over once you decided I wasn’t good enough for you.” He took a moment before continuing to say, “I’m sorry that you’ve gotten yourself in a loveless marriage and you had to stoop this low. You weren’t like this before. What happened?”
“I love Junmyeon, I really do. It’s just…it’s just that I can’t marry him, without knowing what things could’ve been like between us if we had never broken up.” she said, her voice slightly trembling.
Baekhyun let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “You wanted nothing to do with me back when I was just a broke college dropout, remember? Now you see that my bakery is doing well, and all the sudden, you want back in my life?”
Baekhyun immediately worried that he was being a bit too harsh when he saw how Mina looked taken aback by his words.
“I regret how things ended between us more than anything in my life, Baekhyun—” she started to say.
Then his phone started ringing. Baekhyun gave a quick glance to the caller ID before answering. “Hello?”
His eyes widened and shot out of his chair. “I’m on my way.”
Without a single word to Mina, Baekhyun rushed out of the restaurant. 
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y/n had called Baekhyun, telling him that the stalker showed up again. She had been surprised by Baekhyun’s response over the phone; she hadn’t expected him to drop everything he was doing and make his way to her immediately. y/n fidgeted nervously as she waited for him to show up.
By the time y/n saw Baekhyun running into the lobby of the building, the police had already gotten there and dragged the stalker away. A small crowd gathered around the police and y/n, who was being asked questions by a police officer. Baekhyun looked panicked when he saw an ambulance and a few paramedics on the scene. He pushed past the crowd and rushed to y/n, taking her hand into his. His eyes searched her face, desperate to make sure she wasn’t hurt.
“Are you okay?” He was panting a little from having run across campus. 
“Yeah, I’m fine, really. I just got a little bit scratched on my wrists. An ambulance was called just in case.” y/n was quick to assure Baekhyun, but at y/n’s words, Baekhyun gently lifted her hand to examine her wrists, slightly red and bruised. His eyes looked worried and a little glassy, like he was about to tear up. 
“What happened exactly?” he asked.
y/n slowly explained what had happened. She had noticed someone following her after class. When she turned the corner into an empty hallway, the stalker grabbed her by the wrists, slamming her onto the wall. y/n fought back, trying to escape his grip, but before she could scream for help, he pressed his palm over her mouth. Thankfully, after a few moments of kicking and yelling into the stalker’s hand, a student passing by noticed the scene and immediately called the police.
“Apparently he’s actually in my class, but he’s been following me around campus and to the bakery. The police arrested him.” she explained, squeezing Baekhyun into a hug. She didn’t want him to be so concerned when he didn’t have to be. She was just glad that the police had finally caught the stalker.
Baekhyun, one hand on the back of y/n’s head, tightened his other arm around her back and mumbled, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if…if he had…”
“Shh,” y/n shushed Baekhyun who was trembling more than she was now. “I’m fine, Baekhyun.” She pulled back to look at Baekhyun's eyes to reassure him and stood her tiptoes to give him a small kiss on the lips. She didn’t feel him relax against her as he usually did. His expression was still stiff, even stiffer than it had been back at the bakery.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, confused. Was he still upset about what had happened with Mina? 
Baekhyun scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Let’s talk about this in the car.” he said.
Baekhyun led her to the police officer that had been talking to y/n to make sure they could leave. They walked in silence with their hands intertwined to where Baekhyun’s car had been parked across campus.
She climbed into the passenger seat. Baekhyun placed his hands on the steering wheel without turning on the ignition. She could see a deep frown creasing his forehead. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” y/n asked carefully.
“I’m fine. I’m not the one that just got attacked, y/n. Don’t worry about me,” he replied, but his shaky voice and white knuckles said otherwise.
“Can I ask you something?” 
Baekhyun nodded without looking at her. 
“Why did you ask Sehun to take the closing shift?” she asked. She could hear Baekhyun draw in a sharp breath and shift his grip on the steering wheel.
Before he could reply, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket, and the screen briefly flashed in her direction. Mina, it was hard to ignore the four white letters stark against it’s dark background. y/n’s stomach churned uncomfortably.
“Hello?” he answered curtly. She could hear Mina’s voice on the other line. She sounded worried.
“Something came up and I had to leave,” he said, “everything’s fine. No, there’s no need to stop by my place. I’m fine. Please, I don’t want to see you again, okay?”
Baekhyun hung up after a few moments. He let out a heavy sigh, leaning his head back against the headrest of his car. Neither of them spoke for a while.
“Was that Mina?” y/n asked, her voice barely audible. Baekhyun flinched at the sound of her name.
“Yes.” he said darkly.
“Oh,” was all that y/n could manage to say.
Something came up and I had to leave, he had said. y/n couldn’t help but feel a worrying question gnawing at the back of her head. She knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until she knew the answer. “Were you with her when I called you?”
Baekhyun looked blankly at his hands on the steering wheel. “Yes,” he finally said after a moment of hesitation. “I was having dinner with her.”
y/n felt an unbearable sting in her chest as her suspicion proved to be true. She knew Mina had wanted to talk to him back at the bakery. She had gotten the impression that Baekhyun wasn’t pleased about her visit, but she didn’t think that Baekhyun would want to see Mina again.
“I…I wish you would’ve told me,” she said quietly. She didn’t want to start a fight, she really didn’t. Besides, it wasn’t like she and Baekhyun had agreed to become exclusive or anything. But she couldn’t help but be a little upset at the fact that he had agreed to have dinner with Mina without telling her.
“I’m sorry.” he apologized, meeting her eyes for the first time in a while. They were still a bit glassy and red, staring at her sadly.
y/n wasn’t only upset with Baekhyun, but she was also upset at herself for getting involved in this situation in the first place. She didn’t want to be stuck in the middle between them, between a relationship that had lasted far longer than the amount of time she’d even known Baekhyun.
Baekhyun studied her face. “I should tell you about what happened in the past.” he said. y/n nodded, and he started to tell the history between him and Mina.
“I met Mina in my first year of college. She was a few years older than me. She had everything already figured out — what kind of job she wanted to have, what kind of life she wanted for herself — and I was just lost. I found some comfort in that she was so secure with herself because I wasn’t at the time. Everything seemed great at first. I’d never dated anyone seriously until that point, so I had no idea what to even expect out of a relationship, but I thought I was in love with her.
“Then right before our two-year anniversary, she started talking about marriage. Dropping hints about wedding dresses and engagement rings and all that. I definitely wasn’t ready to get married, I had no idea what I was even doing with my life. She was so disappointed when I didn’t propose on our anniversary.
“That was when I told her that I was going to drop out of college. I had felt like I was living a lie during my entire time there. I didn’t care about my major at all, and the thought of working in an office made me miserable. The only dream I’ve ever had in my life was to open my own bakery. I had expected her to at least be supportive of my dream. I thought she at least loved me that much.” Baekhyun hung his head and looked down at his lap bitterly. y/n’s heart ached at the look on his face. Baekhyun let out a sigh and continued on.
“She basically told me that my dream would never come true, that I would never save enough money to even come close to opening a bakery. She said even if I somehow managed to open a bakery, it would go out of business in months. She begged me to stay in college and study finance, said her family would never accept a husband with an unrealistic dream and no security blanket. She said we could get married when I graduated and got a job.
“I refused. I had already lost sight of my dream for twenty years. I wasn’t going to do it any longer. When she realized I wasn’t going to change my mind, she broke up with me. She got a job offer in a different city and moved away. I hadn’t seen her again since then…until today.”
Baekhyun’s eyes were full of tears now. y/n’s heart broke for him as a drop escaped, streaking down his cheek. She automatically reached out to take his hand in hers. The soft sound of his sniffle and the tremble of his hands told her only a fraction of the heartbreak that Baekhyun had experienced. There was nothing she could say that could undo what had happened to him. All she could do was hold his hand, and be there for him.
Baekhyun’s shoulders shook as he let out a quiet sob. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry…you’ve been through enough today. Watching me cry is probably the last thing you want to do.”
“Don’t ever apologize for showing your emotions.” y/n told him, gripping his hand tighter.
y/n finally understood why Baekhyun had been so shaken by Mina’s sudden appearance. Mina had taken his heart, smashed it, and left before he could even pick up the broken pieces. For her to show up out of the blue, acting like nothing had happened, y/n could tell why Baekhyun had been so upset. 
“She asked me to have dinner with her when she came to the bakery. I said yes, thinking I would finally get closure. I thought she would finally apologize for the terrible things she’d said. I should’ve told you then, I’m sorry.” he said through his quiet whimpers. “Instead, she told me she’s getting married. She asked me to take her back. She told me she wouldn’t marry her fiancé if I gave her another chance.”
y/n sat, frozen in shock. She couldn’t quite believe her ears. Anger rose in her chest. How could Mina be so selfish?
“I said no, of course, but I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that she thinks so little of me, that she would think I’d jump at the chance to get back together with her, after all that she did…”
y/n leaned across the console of the car to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He buried his face against her neck, letting his tears freely fall now. y/n didn’t mind that her shirt was wet with his tears, she just wanted to take away all the pain in his heart. She brushed her hands against the broad expanse of his back, rubbing gentle circles. Her heart broke for him again at the sound of his broken sobs.
y/n couldn’t help but feel an uneasiness rising from the pit of her stomach. She thought that she had found what she had been looking for the past twenty-two years of her life, in Baekhyun — but the doubts that the appearance of Mina had sowed in her grew after listening to Baekhyun. She couldn’t tell if he still had feelings for Mina or not. More importantly, y/n didn’t know if she could be there for Baekhyun. She had no idea if she could be the one to fix what Mina had broken in him.
y/n wondered if she was just being selfish. Yes, she liked Baekhyun a lot, but she wasn’t sure if now was the best time to jump into a relationship with him when he was still healing from his last heartbreak. Everything about it felt overwhelming now. y/n genuinely appreciated Baekhyun’s honesty, but at the same time, she felt distant from him. Baekhyun’s story had made her realize how little she actually knew about him. She had no idea of who he was in the past, and hearing the truth felt like a burden. Could she be the one to fix his heart? 
y/n wasn’t sure if Baekhyun was what she was looking for in a relationship anymore.
She slowly pulled back from Baekhyun’s arms when his sobs died down, replaced by soft sniffles. “I-I need some time to process this.” she said tentatively.
Baekhyun blinked, his eyes swollen red and his cheeks tear streaked. “What?” The sight of Baekhyun in tears made y/n’s heart ache.
“I’m sorry…I really hate to do this, Baekhyun. But I don’t know if I can do whatever this is between us. I need time to think, and I think you do, too.” Her own eyes stung, filling up with tears of their own. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She felt sick. What she was doing was selfish; she was trying to protect herself because she feared commitment to Baekhyun.
When she finally braced herself to look up at him, his eyes were red-rimmed, shimmering with tears. “...I understand.” he said in a breathy voice. 
Eventually, y/n silently got out of the car and ignored how much she regretted her decision to leave Baekhyun all alone. She hurriedly ran across campus and back to her apartment. She only managed to fall asleep that night when her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
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y/n requested the rest of the week off, claiming that she needed time to study for her exams. She hadn’t been entirely lying; she desperately needed to study. But that reason paled in comparison to her compulsive need to avoid Baekhyun at all costs.
Thinking of Baekhyun clouded her heart with so many emotions that she couldn’t even begin to process. She had felt so cruel, leaving him behind in his car with tears falling down his cheeks, when he had poured his heart out in front of her just moments before. It was as if he had taken his heart out of its carefully guarded cage and handed it to her, only for her to abandon it. Her chest filled with guilt just thinking about it. The reasonable, practical side of her heart, however, told her that they both needed time on their own to collect their thoughts before making rash decisions.
The week passed by uneventfully with y/n spending most of her time in either class or the library. She tried her very best to push away every thought of Baekhyun. She was walking to class one day when she received a text from Joohyun, asking her if she wanted to have dinner. She brightened at the chance to see her friend. She was desperately in need of a distraction.
y/n walked into a dimly lit restaurant that apparently served the best gourmet burgers in town. Joohyun animatedly waved her over to their table.
“Joohyun, how’s it going?” y/n asked as she hung her coat on the chair. 
Joohyun rubbed her stomach and complained, “I’m so goddamn hungry. Let’s order.”
By the time their food was served, they were deep into conversation about their lives. y/n had expected Joohyun, who loved to gossip, to hit her with the relationship question — and she wasn’t wrong.
“So…any updates about you and the cute baker boss?” Joohyun smiled slyly and wiggled her eyebrows.
y/n nearly choked on her food. “W-we aren’t together.”
Disappointment took over Joohyun’s face. “Are you serious? I told you guys would make a cute couple! Really, nothing happened?” Joohyun pressed for answers.
“We did kiss.” y/n finally admitted. 
Joohyun giggled in excitement. “Oh my, tell me all the details! Just once? There's no way you only managed to kiss that cute boy only once.”
y/n explained to her a rough sketch of what had happened, but wasn’t sure if she should include the detail about their time away from each other. “We…aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”
Joohyun, who was listening attentively, slammed her palm on the table. Her mug of beer made a little splash at the force. “What? How could you not be on good terms right now?” 
y/n internally cringed. “I know. Everything seemed to be going well until his ex showed up.”
“His ex?” Joohyun’s eyes widened. “I hate a man with a messy past.”
“It’s not that messy.” y/n wondered. Was it really?
Joohyun shook her head in disapproval. “So, you guys are on a break right now?”
y/n nodded bitterly and sipped on her mug of beer, halfway empty now. 
“You shied away from commitment, right,” Joohyun said almost conclusively. “I know you.”
y/n nodded again, but this time hung her head and said, “I don’t know what to do. I really like him, but do I have it in me to commit to all sides of him? He seemed like he’s so bright and easy-going all the time. I had no idea about his past and how heartbroken he was. I don’t know if I can be the one to support him, even through all his dark times. What if I hurt him too? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that I broke his heart, even just a little bit.”
“Aw, y/n.” Joohyun picked up y/n’s hand and made y/n meet eyes with her. “You have a good heart. You should know that. I’m sure your relationship with him will have its ups and downs — as all relationships do.”
y/n felt her eyes tear up. Joohyun’s assurance was exactly what she had been looking for. She needed the courage to commit to Baekhyun, give her all to him and promise to love him with her whole heart. 
“I’m usually not the one to say cheesy shit like this — but follow your heart, y/n. You overthink sometimes.” Joohyun smiled warmly at y/n. “I’ve never heard you talk about someone like this before, y/n. It sounds like you care about him a lot.”
y/n thanked Joohyun for her advice and gave her a long hug before they parted ways. y/n stared emptily after Joohyun as her friend rushed to the nearby subway station.
y/n clutched her coat tighter around herself in the cold nighttime air. She was in a part of town that she rarely frequented, surrounded by shops and restaurants she’d never seen before. She walked around aimlessly until her feet came to rest before a small bakery sandwiched between a Chinese restaurant and a bookstore. 
It was late, but there were still cookies, cakes and different pastries displayed on the shelf. y/n could smell the addicting, sweet scent of baked goods when she stepped closer. The inside of the bakery seemed so warm and inviting; y/n desperately wanted to go inside.
An employee popped out of the back room and jogged over to the register. y/n felt a bitter pang in her chest when she realized he wasn’t Baekhyun. She had strangely expected him to be Baekhyun, despite the fact that this wasn’t his bakery, plus she was in a completely different part of the city. She realized that she had come to permanently associate the concept of bakeries with Baekhyun.
A group of customers walked in and the employee greeted them with a welcoming smile. y/n quickly walked away before his smile could remind her of Baekhyun, too.
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y/n was sitting on her couch on a lazy evening, sipping a cup of earl grey tea as she watched dry leaves fall off the branches outside in a slow transition from fall to winter. After a long day at school, she was about to turn on the TV when her doorbell rang.
She considered who could be visiting her this late. Something in the back of her mind wished it was Baekhyun behind the door, all smiles and sunshine, but she remembered a package that she had ordered earlier in the week. She looked out her peephole expecting a delivery man and nearly gasped. Baekhyun was fidgeting nervously on her doormat. 
She opened her door to reveal a slightly disheveled Baekhyun, wearing a rumpled sweater and light-wash jeans. Despite everything that had happened, she couldn’t help but be glad to see him. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he said, tense, “I-I wanted to talk to you. Is that okay? If you’re not ready, I can leave—”
“It’s okay, Baekhyun. Come in.” She opened the door wider so he could walk in.
Baekhyun awkwardly shuffled to her living room to stand in front of her TV. 
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked as she closed the door behind her. 
Baekhyun chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. I should’ve been more honest with you, and I definitely should’ve figured everything out before I started anything with you.” he said, scratching the back of his neck. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Baekhyun.”
“I thought I had gotten over the whole Mina thing a long time ago, but obviously I was wrong. I know this now; Mina didn’t want me. She wanted the nostalgia, the life that she thinks she could’ve had with me if we hadn’t broken up. But I don’t even want to think about that, because I wouldn’t have met you.”
“I wasn’t upset about you getting over Mina.” y/n clarified. “Now that I think of it, you made it quite clear that you didn’t have feelings for her anymore. I’ve thought about us a lot in the past week, and I want to apologize. I was scared of commitment—”
“I scared you off, didn’t I,” Baekhyun murmured. “I can’t promise you that I’m completely healed from what happened all those years ago. I understand if you don’t want to be with me because of that — but I would regret it forever if I didn’t at least tell you how I feel. I want to be with you. You’ve been on my mind all week, and it drove me crazy that I wasn’t seeing you everyday at the bakery. I missed you.”
Baekhyun’s eyes desperately searched for hers. The bright, sincere look in his eyes was asking her to say something, anything at all. 
“I want to be with you, too.” y/n said, her voice clear and sure.
Baekhyun let out a huge sigh of relief. She couldn’t help but smile at his quick change in expression.
“I missed you too, Baekhyun,” y/n confessed. “I’m so sorry I left you all alone in the car. I really should’ve been there for you. I-I was being selfish. I can’t imagine not having you in my life anymore, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun nodded. “It’s okay. I understand how you could have felt that way. I can handle my own emotions, too. I don’t want to burden you.”
“No, no, you’re never a burden to me, Baekhyun,” y/n shook her head. “I’m going to be here for you from now on.”
Baekhyun’s face flushed and broke into a radiant smile. y/n’s heart soared.
He crossed the small space between them and cupped her face in his hands, leaning down to press his lips against hers. She let out a soft noise in surprise, and melted into the kiss. It had been far too long since he had kissed her like this. She gently placed her hands on his back, pulling him closer to her. She could feel him smile against her lips.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting to hear that.” he mumbled, pulling back a little bit.
She shut him up by kissing him again.
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Two months later
It was already the season to dress in thick woolen coats with pockets deep enough for Baekhyun to hide dessert to surprise y/n with. He occasionally pulled out carefully packaged brownies or sugar cookies and watched y/n’s delighted reaction in satisfaction. His gifts didn’t stop with the baked goods; Baekhyun once showed up in a blue knitted scarf and gifted an identical pair for y/n to match with him. 
y/n gripped Baekhyun’s hand tightly and half-dragged him towards the snow-covered cabin. Snowflakes were falling around them softly, resting on the tops of their heads and shoulders before quickly melting away. 
y/n suppressed a laugh when Baekhyun let out another whine. “I told you I didn’t want to go!” he complained, flailing his other arm as y/n dragged him away. He pouted when she looked back at him — she almost gave in at his puppy-like eyes. 
“We came all this way, Baekhyun,” she said firmly, “now let’s go inside, I’m freezing.”
When Baekhyun received the official invitation to Mina’s wedding two months ago, he had been strongly against going. He crossed his arms, claiming that he never wanted to see her face again. Strangely enough, y/n found herself convincing Baekhyun to attend the wedding with her. 
“You’ll finally get the closure you’ve wanted if you go and congratulate her, Baekhyun.” y/n had said to Baekhyun, who was fuming at the notion of seeing Mina again.
“It’s fine if you really don’t want to go. But I won’t be able to show her that you’re mine.” y/n had said with a wink. This seemed to cheer Baekhyun up a little bit, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes.
y/n and Baekhyun entered the cabin, handing their coats to the coat checker. y/n was wearing a light pink silk dress that stopped a few inches below her knees, her hair falling down her back in soft waves. She had made sure to look presentable and had spent hours deciding on her dress. Baekhyun looked at her appreciatively, blushing when she met his eyes.
The cabin was completely decked out in Christmas decorations, every wall space covered in wreaths and fairy lights. Even the air smelled like Christmas — the aroma of gingerbread cookies and pine cones filling the entire venue. Huge A-framed windows looked out at the snowy mountains around them.
y/n clapped excitedly. “I love Christmas weddings!” She shot Baekhyun a warning glance before he could let out another grumble.
The ceremony was breathtaking, y/n admitted. The wedding hall was decorated in a flourish of pink toned flowers. The window behind the altar gave a clear view into the open sky as the sun set beautifully behind the mountains. Mina wore an elegant white gown decorated with lace flowers and crystals that made the dress twinkle as she walked down the aisle to her soon-to-be husband. The groom, Junmyeon, looked just as elegant in his tuxedo. He stood at the altar in a perfect posture, beaming at his bride. 
y/n glanced over at Baekhyun when Mina and Junmyeon began exchanging vows. She had felt a twinge of worry that Baekhyun might not actually enjoy the wedding. However, he was smiling lightly, eyes content at the sight of the newlywed couple. He looked genuinely happy for them.
The banquet hall on the other end of the cabin slowly filled up with people for the reception. Thousands of fairy lights hung across the walls, twinkling like stars that whimsically complemented the darkening sky outside. Baekhyun’s eyes lit up when he saw two twenty-something year old men walking towards them. y/n recognized them as the guys from the framed photo in Baekhyun’s apartment.
“Is that Byun Baekhyun I see?” a tall, gangly man with noticeably pointy ears yelled, approaching them with a big grin on his face.
“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun exclaimed animatedly. Chanyeol captured Baekhyun in a bear hug, squeezing him as tight as he could. Baekhyun tapped his friend’s back. “Chanyeol, my dude, I can’t breathe.”
Chanyeol released him with a deep, rumbling laugh. A shorter man with big round eyes and heart-shaped lips approached Baekhyun, giving Baekhyun a hug as well. He gave y/n a much calmer impression compared to Chanyeol, who was shaking with laughter.
“It’s so good to see you, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun said as the shorter man let go. Kyungsoo’s eyes moved to y/n, who had been standing next to Baekhyun. He gave her a curious look.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n. y/n, these are my friends, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun introduced, a proud smile on his face. y/n felt warmth rise in her stomach at the phrase my girlfriend. It had already been over a month since they'd made their relationship official, but she still felt butterflies whenever he said those words.
“You’re y/n? The y/n? The girl Baekhyun has been talking nonstop about for the past two months?” Chanyeol teased. Baekhyun groaned and covered his face in his hands, his face flushed red.
“Chanyeol, please. Make a good first impression for y/n.” Baekhyun complained.
“Yes, I’m y/n. It’s so nice to meet you guys.” y/n said, smiling at Baekhyun’s embarrassment. His rosy cheeks were beyond cute when he was embarrassed.
“We’re both so glad that Baekhyun finally found someone. You guys make a cute couple, I must say.” Kyungsoo sincerely commented.
“Get ready, y/n, because I’m going to tell you so many embarrassing stories about Baekhyun. Has he told you about the time he got stuck—” Chanyeol started, but Baekhyun made a strangled noise and punched Chanyeol lightly on the arm. Chanyeol overreacted by grabbing himself and scrunching his face in feigned pain.
“Oh, stop it. I didn’t even punch you that hard.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes.
“He got stuck inside a porta potty once,” Kyungsoo quietly whispered to y/n while Chanyeol and Baekhyun quarreled over who had started ‘it’.
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The four of them enjoyed their food at a banquet table together. Chanyeol was in the middle of telling a story about the time Baekhyun accidentally shaved off his eyebrows in middle school. Baekhyun had given up on trying to make Chanyeol shut up.
“I had no idea the blade was double sided!” Baekhyun objected, causing Chanyeol to snort and double over the table. y/n laughed as she imagined a younger Baekhyun without eyebrows.
Guests began to walk up to Mina and Junmyeon one by one to congratulate them one last time before heading out. Baekhyun eyed the happy couple who stood across the room hand in hand. Mina was standing with Junmyeon, a bright smile on her face. She chuckled when Junmyeon leaned down to whisper something to her.
“Do you want to go talk to her?” y/n asked quietly in Baekhyun’s ear.
“Only if you come with me,” he murmured.
y/n and Baekhyun excused themselves, saying their goodbyes to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. y/n wrapped her arm around Baekhyun’s and made their way towards Mina and Junmyeon. 
Mina’s smile faded ever so slightly when she saw Baekhyun and y/n approaching them. She said something to Junmyeon, prompting him to walk away and give them some privacy.
“Congratulations, Mina.” Baekhyun greeted her with a genuine smile.
“Baekhyun, I didn’t think you would come,” Mina said, looking flustered. She glanced at y/n standing next to him. “I-isn’t she the girl that works for you at the bakery?”
“Yes, she’s also my girlfriend.” Baekhyun replied. y/n felt an arm wrap around her waist. Mina showed little to no reaction other than a slight widening of the eyes. y/n felt satisfaction settle inside her as she heard the phrase again. My girlfriend. 
“I do remember you saying that you were taken,” Mina said, an awkward smile lingering on her lips. She turned her eyes to y/n. “It’s nice to meet you, y/n. I assume you know who I am.”
y/n nodded once wordlessly.
Baekhyun cleared his throat once and said, “Despite everything that’s happened between us, I still want you to be happy. I hope you are, with Junmyeon.”
“I am,” she said quietly, “thank you, Baekhyun.”
“Goodbye, Mina.” Baekhyun gave her a curt nod before moving to walk away. 
“Wait, Baekhyun—” Mina blurted, stopping Baekhyun in his tracks. He turned to look at her.
“I-I’m sorry. For how I treated you all those years ago. You didn’t deserve that, and I know it’s too late to apologize now — but I still want you to know.” Mina looked down at the hem of her dress before continuing her apology. “You’re a great guy. I hope you find happiness, too.” 
“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun said, “I found happiness with her.” His arm tightened around y/n’s waist, pulling her closer to his side.
y/n watched Baekhyun smile at Mina, his face the most peaceful y/n had ever seen. He slid his hand into y/n’s and pulled them away. All Mina could do was stare after the couple as they walked out of the venue until they were out of sight.
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y/n comfortably settled into the white sheets of the bed, relaxing after a long day of hauling herself around on a pair of high heels. She soon felt the pressure of Baekhyun sinking down beside her. It was too late for them to make the three-hour drive back to their city after the reception, so Baekhyun had booked a hotel room for the two of them. She rolled over on her side to look at Baekhyun, who was laying on his back, his face at ease. y/n blushed slightly at the sight of his bare chest; he was only dressed in a pair of sweatpants.
Shifting through the crack of the curtains, moonlight illuminated Baekhyun’s skin into a healthy glow. 
“Thank you.” Baekhyun softly whispered. He met his eyes with y/n.
“For what?” y/n asked. 
“For everything. I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time.” Baekhyun moved closer to kiss her briefly on the lips. “And I’m so glad you’re the one to make me feel this way.”
y/n gave him a small smile and raised a hand to stroke his hair. Without saying a word, she lovingly kissed him again in response, silently letting him know that she felt the same way. Everything he did, from his endearing smiles to little pouts whenever he messed up the icing, and every way he looked, from a neatly dressed pastry chef to a mess of soft brown hair and dark puppy eyes — all of Baekhyun made y/n fall harder for him.
She deepened the kiss, pressing her lips harder against Baekhyun’s mouth. She felt warmth gather in the pit of her stomach. Baekhyun swiped his tongue against her lips, allowing him to push his tongue inside to meet hers. Baekhyun placed his hand on the back of her neck, pulling their bodies as close as possible. She could feel the heat of his body firm against hers. 
Their breaths became heavier as they continued kissing. She let out a moan when she felt Baekhyun instinctively grind his hips against hers. His hands gripped her waist and moved her so that she was straddling his hips. She bent down to capture his lips again in a messy kiss, their tongues moving against each other sloppily. She rolled her hips against him as they kissed, searching for friction that sent chills down her back. 
She felt his hand slide up the hem of her pajama shirt, gently brushing the soft skin of her stomach. A shiver ran down her entire body. She reached down to pull her shirt over her head. Baekhyun pulled back slightly to stare at her, his breaths shallow and his pupils dilated. His hands wandered down her sides. The way Baekhyun touched her, like she was the most precious thing in the world, made her a million times more sensitive. Every time his hands traveled to a new place, she had to cut back a gasp. 
Baekhyun kissed the side of her jaw, and down the column of her neck. He harshly sucked on a tender point at the base of her throat, his mouth leaving angry, red marks all over her neck. Baekhyun’s hands started kneading her breasts, and she let out another moan. Pleased with her reaction, he ducked his head to take her breast into his mouth. She lightly moaned as she felt his tongue flick against her nipple.
“B-Baekhyun,” she called out shakily.
“Mmm?” he replied, his voice muffled against her skin.
“I need you.”
Baekhyun’s mouth released her breast with a pop, and the sudden onset of cold air made her shudder. He looked to meet her lustful eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she breathed out.
Baekhyun kissed her lips again, exhaling a soft moan as he did. His hand slowly trailed down from her chest to rest between her thighs, brushing against her stomach on the way. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin as he gently shoved his hand inside her pajama shorts to rub her against her underwear. y/n let out a sudden moan, surprised at the pressure in which Baekhyun began rubbing her. His index and middle fingers began moving in a languid back and forth motion. y/n rested her forehead against Baekhyun’s shoulder as she whimpered, already getting lightheaded. Baekhyun let out a soft sigh in response and pushed her underwear down. Baekhyun slid a finger across y/n’s wetness before he started rubbing her clit in circular motions. He eased his two fingers inside her and started to slowly pump them back and forth.
At the direct contact of Baekhyun’s fingers inside her heat, y/n lost control of her moans. She felt embarrassed at the sounds that came out from her lips and rang across the small hotel room. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.
“Look at me, love.” Baekhyun demanded. y/n forced her eyes open and saw Baekhyun, who had a dark look in his eyes, craving for more.
Baekhyun’s hand moved faster in and out of y/n. “Does that feel good?” he asked, voice hoarse. 
“Oh my god, yes,” she managed to say between her moans.
Baekhyun gently flipped them over so that he was leaning above her, his arms resting on either side of her face. As he leaned down to kiss her, he slid off his sweatpants leaving only his underwear on. y/n broke from the kiss, staring at the hardness in his underwear, painfully straining against the fabric. She slowly let her hand wander down from his shoulder and splayed it against his stomach. She played with the hem of his underwear before pulling it down and wrapping her hand around his hardened cock. y/n moved her hand in a steady up and down motion, adding more pressure at the tip. She watched Baekhyun come undone by her touch.
“Go a little faster, sweetheart.” Baekhyun said in a hurried whisper. 
y/n responded by moving her hand faster in a circular motion. Baekhyun let out a quiet noise in the back of his throat, further igniting the flame that was burning inside her stomach.
“I need you inside me,” she said, her voice unsteady.
Baekhyun reached for his wallet on the side table next to the bed and fished out a condom with one hand. He ripped the plastic open and rolled the condom onto his length. He took no time to gently move her hand away from his cock and line himself up at her entrance, pausing for a moment before looking into her desperate eyes. He sank down into her, letting out a soft moan. Her head leaned back into the pillow in pleasure, making space for Baekhyun to tilt his head down and suck on her neck. She let out high-pitched moans as he started to move faster, his hand reaching out to hold onto the headboard of the bed.
“Fuck, Baekhyun.” y/n cried out. Baekhyun thrusted harder into her at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. He pounded in and out of her, gaining a moan from y/n with each thrust. She brought her hands to his shoulders and raked her fingernails down his broad back.
Baekhyun’s decreasing steadiness and grunts indicated that he was close. y/n felt like she was going to explode, but it wasn’t enough. She took Baekhyun’s hand to her clit and looked into his eyes, begging him for more. Baekhyun got the message and started rubbing intensely, causing y/n to melt into a puddle under his hand. Even as Baekhyun moved roughly, there was an undeniable sense of affection from him, his eyes gazing at her lovingly. 
“Baby, you feel so good,” he murmured.
A few moments later, there was a sudden burst of pent up energy, her back arching off the bed and legs shaking as she came. Her vision blurred as she clenched her eyes and loud moans spilled out of her lips. She called out for Baekhyun, barely making out her own words through her release. He slammed her into a few more times before reaching his own climax.
They collapsed down onto the bed together, chests rising and falling from their harsh breaths. She turned to the side to look at Baekhyun. His skin glistened with sweat, and he looked back at her, dazed. 
The world seemed to stop when Baekhyun said the next words. “I love you,” Baekhyun whispered softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind y/n’s ear. The soft brown in his eyes glimmered for a moment before he leaned in to close his lips around hers.
When they broke apart, y/n whispered back, “I love you too, Baekhyun.” making his face break out into a sweet smile that reminded her of nothing but sunshine, and strangely, strawberries, too.
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The cold December air hurt y/n’s lungs as she skipped down the snowy sidewalk that led to the bakery. She ducked her head through the door, inhaling a mixed aroma of cookies, cakes, and macaroons. A smile sprung on her face as she made eye contact with Sehun, who was working the register.
“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to work today.” Sehun asked, surprised to see her.
“I just wanted to visit my favorite bakery employee,” she said innocently, walking over to ruffle Sehun’s hair. Sehun rolled his eyes.
“You’re here to visit your goddamn boyfriend, and you know it.” Sehun deadpanned.
y/n laughed brightly. “I’m here to see you too, Sehun!” She scanned the bakery — it was unusually empty today with most college students having left for winter break. “Where’s Baekhyun?”
Sehun rolled his eyes again. “He’s in the kitchen.”
y/n walked into the kitchen and was met with Baekhyun bent over a tray of cookies. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his teeth gently digging into his bottom lip as he carefully squeezed icing onto a cookie. He looked up and beamed when he saw y/n walk in.
“Hi, love,” he said, placing the icing bag down on the counter, “what are you doing here?”
“Hi,” she replied, walking over to give him a hug, “I got bored sitting around the apartment so I decided to come visit.”
Baekhyun leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Good. I was getting bored with icing these cookies, too.”
y/n looked down at what he had been working on and gasped. “You know sugar cookies are my favorite.” she said, a blissful smile on her face.
Baekhyun picked up the cookie he’d been icing and tipped it into y/n’s mouth. She chewed, delighting in the sweet flavor of her favorite dessert.
“It’s delicious,” she complimented, “you should try some.”
He leaned in to kiss her again, this time more eagerly. His lips curved against the slope of her mouth, his tongue moving past her lips. She suppressed a moan into a soft sigh and gripped his shoulder as he pressed harder against her mouth.
“Mm, but I’d rather have you for dessert.” Baekhyun broke off from her lips and shamelessly murmured into y/n’s ear, making her face heat up instantly.
They reluctantly pulled back when they heard Sehun’s grumpy yell from outside.
“You guys better not be having sex in there!”
430 notes · View notes
maemi324 · 3 years
Text
The Love of The Mob Boss
hello there friends! here I am part two of the Mafia story. Well it’s a prequel. I wouldn’t have thought to make one if it wasn’t for @dorki-c​ so thank you! Also! I have @combat-wombatus​ and @lucyheartfilias-wife​ for taking a look at this story and editing! You can read part one here: mafia
Warnings: Kidnapping, gun violence, minor character death? i think that’s all. if anyone see’s that there needs to be another warning, please let me know and I’ll add it to the tag list.
@butterscotchbaku​ and @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku​ I hope you like part two! Enjoy!
X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.X.
Today was just like any other day. The 3pm sun was shimmering without a cloud to be seen in the sky. 
You eyed your nails, hardly paying attention to the rhythmic pounding of the dryer as you perched on the washing machine. You’d left your washing until the last minute, not having much of a will to do it earlier in the week. Thankfully, this was the last load. You smiled, faintly pleased; all before mom came home too. You glanced up from your nails to the open door that lead into the garage, summer air gently rustling your skirt.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught your attention, hopping off of the machine. 
It was a bit early for your mom to be home, but you didn’t think much of it. Maybe today was just well executed productivity for the both of you.
The dryer slowed to a stop, as you grabbed your basket to fill up, footsteps approaching from behind you.
“Hey mom! You’re home a bit early!” you called, fingers flying to your lips as some static from one of your socks zaps you rather harshly.
“Sorry to disappointed,” a deep voice called, “ But it’s not your mom”  “Oh, hey.”
A strange sort of disappointment flooded you; it was only your dad. He was hardly in the picture while you were growing up, though managed to stick around like some fungus even after the divorce. He usually only came over to beg your mother for some cash, just a little to get gas even, the rest was going towards rent. 
You never really stuck around long enough to see the result of whether mom did or didn’t give into him, finding more interesting topics in your books or literally anything else. 
You closed the dryer with a bump of your hip, adjusting the laundry pile so it was equally distributed within the basket.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here for the usual. Though I do need some help. Could you come shine a light? I think there’s something wrong with my car. I figured I’d stop here rather than on the road”
You sighed, but set down the basket, so much for getting all the folding done, “Yeah sure, I’ll be right there” You walk into the garage, spotting your father, dressed casually with his hands in his pockets. He had dark circles underneath his eyes and (H/C) stubble that seemed to be growing out.
He gives you an awkward smile that you pay no heed to, walking towards one of the shelves where you kept a few extra flashlights, just in case.
That was your mistake.
Calloused hands grab your arms, shifting to hold them with one hand as he drags you to the car.
“Wait- what the hell?! What are you doing- Let go of me!” Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood rushing through your ears, everything was far too loud and yet so muffled and clear. You struggled against him, kicking back against his shin, but it only gave him a better grasp on you as his left arm grabbed you around your waist, his right fiddling with some old rope he found on the ground. 
“Shh, stop fighting- Stop! This will all be so much easier if you just hold still!” he wasn’t making any sense, what would be so much easier?! You didn’t care, you didn’t want anything to do with him and whatever sick joke he was playing.
“Mom! Someone! Anyone! Help me!” you shouted in vain, the rough material of the rope burning as he pulled tight around your wrists, tossing you into the passenger side of the car, buckling you in.
“Dad, please, what are you doing?!” tears blurred your vision, fear clogging your judgement. You wriggled in your seat as he closed the car door. Getting in on his side, he buckled and backed out. 
That’s how you found yourself standing in front of a warehouse somewhere downtown a few hours later. The jab of a gun in your back reminds you to keep quiet, your fathers free hand opening the warehouse door just big enough to get you inside. 
It’s dark inside, except for the sunlight that enters through the various windows scattered about. Aside from a few various, but large, rows of crates, boxes and a stack of fold out chairs, the warehouse is empty.
A whine tears itself from your fear clogged throat, your palms becoming more clammy in the cool air. The five snaps of the fold out chairs being set up had you wincing at each sound. 
Your father gestures towards a chair with the gun, another involuntary whine escaping. You sit down in the one furthest from him, though with the gun in his hand it hardly matters. 
“Now you just take it easy,” he says, settling into one of the other chairs, “You’re gonna help your old man with something. Gonna be over before you know it alright? I promise. Just sit here and let Daddy do all the talking alright sweetie?”
Anger settled over you, arms tense as it flows through your veins; no it wasn’t alright at all! This was insane, something that would happen in a bad dream! This had to be a bad dream.
The waiver in his hand, the gun still aimed directly at you, had your dreams crushed as reality continued to play out. You could only watch him, tears streaming down your cheeks.
“You can be as mad at me as ya like, I deserve it, and you can chew me out about it once it’s done. I promise” 
Another empty promise, just like all the promises to stop gambling, like all the times he promised to stop spending so much money on...whatever it was. All lies
The door to the entrance creaked loud enough to send ice down your veins, your heart beating in a tizzy as three forms entered the room. All three were dressed nicely, suits you come to notice, as they approach. Your father quickly put the gun down, putting it away and out of sight.
The first one had a dark blue tie, pristine and perfect, taking an easy seat in front of you and your father. He took out a cigar, holding it out for the other man- red tie- to light it for him. The last to take a seat was a man with a white tie, broad shoulders set in perfect posture.
Your father bowed his head, though you kept your eyes trained on blue tie.
Smoke spills from the man's lips as he pulls them into a slightly amused grin. “So (L/N), here we meet again. So nice to see you” his grin doesn’t meet his eyes, sarcasm laced in smoke. 
“A-and y-you as well, Sir” your father pathetically stammers out, raising his head again.
“Could I hope to think that you have what you owe?” he takes a deep drag, blowing the putrid smoke towards you. You scrunch up your nose in disgust. 
“N-no sir, h-however, I have a proposition for you, if you’ll please hear me out” he quickly gets up from his chair, the henchmen watching his move like hawks. He places an unwanted hand on your shoulder.
“I’m offering you my daughter, just until I can pay you back, which will be soon. You can do whatever you want, just upon my last payment, she comes back home with me, unharmed” His eyes were wide, smile stretched wide enough to hurt.
“What?!” You whirl around towards your father as best as you could, shock settling over your form. Whatever they wanted?! That wasn’t for him to offer!
Blue tied man stood up, walking over towards you. The hand on your shoulder slipped off, though its weight almost increased in its absence. A warm finger slipped it’s way under your chin, tilting your tear stained face up towards him.
His eyes were cold, though filled with a pleased tint that turned your stomach.
More tears leaked down your cheeks and he cooed, thumb swiping over it. As he pulled his hand away from you he licked his thumb.
“I think we can work with that”
Your tears fell faster now, as hiccups left you, how could this be happening. The hand returned to your shoulder, “Don’t worry sweetie, you’ll be just fine. It’ll all be just fine, thank you so much sir-” 
Bang!
The sound echoed throughout the room, sunset light blocked by three shadows. 
In walked in a young man not much older than yourself, bright green eyes, and matching hair, steeled with determination, gun in his hand. He was dressed in a black vest, green long sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows and dark pants. 
The second shadow belonged to a man with blonde hair and mean red eyes, a snarl on his lip as his gun aimed towards the red tied man.
The last belonged to a man with red and white hair, parted perfectly down the middle, the red side having a bright blue eye, the white having a brown one. His gun was aimed towards the white.
The blue tied man seemed surprised, blowing out another puff of smoke. He steps back from you, offering his most charming smile, “Ah, Deku and Friends. So sorry this warehouse is occupied. I’m afraid whatever business you have here is either not here, or should be dealt with elsewhere.  I’m afraid You’ve caught me right in the middle of business.”
What? That couldn’t be right...The Deku? Japan’s highest ranking mafia leader? Direct descendant of All Might?! What on Earth could he want? What sort of messed up deal did your father make?!
The other colored ties stood up from their positions, guns aimed at the newcomers. The green eyed one- Deku- stepped forward, gun held carefully in his hand.
“Actually, my business is with you, actually, with this lady here,” he stated, “She’ll be coming back with me to her mother.” His statement left no room for argument, no room for misinterpretation.
“Mom?” You turned towards them further, hope igniting in your chest for the first time in what felt like hours. He nods at you, a smile that reaches his eyes. 
“Just right outside,” he reassures. 
“With you?” Blue tie asks, eyes wide, “ What audacity you have Deku. Even amongst our kind, business doesn’t work this way-”
Bang!
With a shriek you turn your eyes away, scrunching them shut, the thud of the red tied man echoing over and over and over-
It all turns into gunshots, two more you recognize, but it feels as though they keep going, your eardrums ringing. There are hands suddenly at your shoulders, gentle and soft. You recognize them as others take off the rope at your wrists. 
You hesitantly open your eyes, immediately throwing yourself forward into your mothers arms. You sob, deep within your chest as she carefully wraps her arms around you, her whispers barely sounding through the groans of pain echoing throughout the room.
“It’s alright now, honey. It’s alright, I’m here now” She says, her own eyes watery. She pets your hair carefully, glancing up as a slightly scarred hand is placed gently on your mothers shoulder. 
Looking up, your eyes catch your hero, Deku.
“Dynamite, will you handle the rest of this? I’m going to escort Mrs.(L/N) and (Y/N) back,” He says, though whatever answer this Dynamite has is lost on you, your focus fading in and out. 
Deku beckoned the way forward with a gesture of his arm, a gentle insistence to get moving. You blinked and suddenly you were sitting in a car, buckled in next to your mother, your knuckles turning white with how hard you gripped. She made no expression of pain, only gripping your hand just as tight.
You blink again and you appear to be in a room, sitting on a soft, dull, mint green couch. The room itself is unimpressive, looking to be more like an office break room than anything, walls a soft cream color, the floors- although soft- an unimpressive soft blue. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a fridge and some counter space that had a rather large kettle and two boxes of various packets. 
Down on one knee is this Deku, eyes carefully scanning over you as his mouth moves, saying words that you’re slowly being able to process again.
“...Think she’s coming back, (Y/N)? (Y/N), can you hear me? You don’t have to say anything, just nod if you can hear me” his voice is so soft, though solid, not even a waiver to it. It’s so nice to listen to, you find yourself nodding. The smile that you are rewarded with fills your stomach with a comforting warmth.
He adjusts so he’s sitting on the coffee table, offering you a cup of what smells like warm tea.
“Careful, it’s a bit hot. Also a little on the sweet side, though sweet is good for shock, or so I hear,” he rambled, eyes widening as he nearly spilt the drink in his animated gestures. 
You outstretched your slightly shaking hands, only vaguely recognizing that there was a soft cream blanket draped over your shoulders. You carefully take the cup, Deku only letting go once he’s sure you had a good hold of it. A sip has warmth you didn’t know you were missing flood through your system, the sweet taste bringing back some awareness.
He lets you take a moment to sit back and process everything that just happened, he and your mother sipping on their own cups of tea. The shaking decreased as you sipped your tea, though you had an inkling it would be a while longer until it was completely gone. You could still feel yourself fading in and out of focus, though now, it was more like a daydream, rather than being in a completely different place at each second.
“You must have quite a few questions for me?”
“A few to say the least,” you tried a hand at humor, though it fell sort of flat, you appreciated his soft laugh. “Let’s start at the beginning, how did the two of you know where to find me?”
“I knew something had gone wrong the second i got home,” Your mother set down her now half empty cup of tea, “I found it odd that the garage door was open, clothes on the dryer, but not a single sign of you, even when I called. My worry only got worse as I found this,” she pulled a worn wallet out of her pocket, “It’s your fathers, the bastard must have dropped it. It’s a good thing he did though, it let me know he’d been there. It wasn’t much but it was something.”
You narrowed your eyes at the offending item, as if you could set it ablaze with sight alone. 
“And...where do you come in? The media might not know your face, but your title reaches far.” 
“I can answer that too; I actually used to be a part of this group, back in the day. Though that was when All Might was still running the show. Even though I retired from this life after having you, I remained in touch, checking in every now and again. I knew that Deku could help me find you, he has eyes across the entire city.”
This was so much to wrap your head around, first your father was in some dealings with this gang- the Ties you’d decided to call them- decided to try and use you to pay off the rest of his debt, but now your mom was once a part of the gang that rescued you? Was the room spinning or was it just you?
“Whoa there!” a steady hand went to your shoulder, the other gently wrapped around the hands that held your cup. Concerned green eyes meet yours. Gently, he raises your cup to your lips, your hands still firmly wrapped around the cup. "Here, maybe take another sip of this, slowly.” 
You follow his instruction, taking a deep breath, exhaling through your nose, you take a slow sip. You try and focus on the taste of the honey sweetening your tea. Instead of syrup of golden hue, your mind is trained into a lake of turquoise and teal, green bouncing off rays of light.
At your reassuring nod, he let go of your shoulder and hands. You bow your head forward, “In any event, thank you for coming to my rescue. I’m not sure how to repay you-” he holds up a hand, fear spiking your heart...oh no, was he going to do something similar like The Ties? Just up to his standards?
“No need to thank me, it wasn’t any trouble. However, we do need to talk about what happens from here. If this were any other gang, I’d say that we would escort you home and you could go on your merry way. But this isn’t just any other gang, they’re called The Royal Devils.” Huh, that was definitely a more intimidating name than The Ties for sure, “They have a way of doing business that we don’t exactly agree with here. They’re a mean bunch, and they won't like the fact that we’ve interrupted a deal, especially one to collect on a debt. Which means that they’ll be looking for not just my gang, but you too”
It was a bitter pill to swallow, a pill that rattled with dried fear and misplaced resentment. Your emotions felt like a toddler who had just had enough, the ones who screamed in the stores because everything was just too much. But you kept your cool as best as you could, screaming and crying wouldn’t help the situation. 
“So...What do we do then? It’s not like we can just crash somewhere else?” No hotel or motel could keep you safe enough, as well as both of the two being too expensive to stay extensively.
“Well, I have a few ideas, a few options if you will. You see, I’ve been working to take down The Royal Devils, and we’re really close to doing so with the intel we have. Now that we’ve caught their attention directly, it’ll be a bit harder, like i said, they’ll be coming for us.” As he spoke, Deku’s hand gestures became quicker, more animated, his gaze looking far away as he focused. 
“So the first option is to have the two of you go home..but have some of my gang keep watch over your every move, just in case the Devils decide to strike there. It would be more comfortable for you to be in a familiar place, however, It paints a bigger target and leaves some of my guys out of where I need them. I’m not just putting any old schmuck to guard you. Your second option is to stay here, at least until I run the Devils into their graves. You’d be safer here and the target remains relatively small, no one knows the location of this specific base. The choice is yours.”
You hadn’t considered the thought of staying, but if it really was the safest option- as much as you would have liked to go home…
You looked over to your mother, you could tell what her choice was.
“We’ll stay here then, just until this matter is solved.”
And so he set you and your mother up in some makeshift rooms provided by this tall young woman named Yaomomo- or that’s what Deku called her. You were given the option to have a shared room, but ultimately decided that having personal space would be good. The first night there however, your mother cuddled underneath her sheets, holding you so close you almost couldn’t breathe. You hardly minded, preferring the safety her hold brought to you.
In the days following you learned that your father had died, though at whose hands, you weren’t sure you wanted to know-wanted to care even. Half of you wanted to be sad, he was your father and apart from the kidnapping, he’d never hurt you, not even once. 
The other half of you found contentment in your rage being satisfied, justified. He’d taken you from your home and tried to use you for his own gain- he didn’t even talk to you about it! Not that you would have said yes in the first place.
You would have found a different way, maybe once your mother knew how desperate your father was, she would have helped him. That’s what you thought anyhow, a frown etched on your face as you stirred your tea.
The door behind you swings open, Deku entering into the room, despite his tall stature, he seemed hunched, his energy quiet. “I heard about what happened to your dad...How are you feeling?”
You’re surprised that he even cared to ask, and you told him as such, as well as your actual feelings. He was incredibly understanding. 
“It’s okay to feel what you're feeling, you’ve been through quite a bit. It’ll take a bit for your emotions to figure out how to settle.” You only hum in affirmation, licking the honey off your spoon. The rest of your chat was filled with mindless things, whatever you had watched on T.V. books you read; he actually gave you some of his favorites-which were wonderful to read.
Surprisingly over the next two months, your emotions seemed to settle on their own. Your mother didn’t have to cuddle you at night, your own fear of someone coming to take you dwindling by the day.
Or so you thought.
It was the start of the third month into your stay, rain pouring down and thunder rumbling through the sky. As comfortable as Deku tried to make you, it was starting to wear down on you. You couldn’t leave the base, not when they were so close to pinpointing the main base of the Devils operations, not while the closer Deku got the more frantic the Devils became. You groan in sheer boredom, the knots in your back protesting as you lean on your fists. 
But even in your boredom, your feelings had become more than just gratitude towards Deku. Aside from the gifts of books, he also spent time with you, underneath the professional exterior, Deku was honestly the sweetest goof you’d met. He often ran away with his thoughts, hands becoming so animated you often had to duck- but he was just so cute when he was excited-
Since when had you fallen so hard?
As if he had an alarm for your discomfort, there was Deku, walking into the break room, which was unofficially your space to meet and chat. As far as you knew, no one else besides the two of you ever came in. 
“Rough night?” He asked, you only laughed in response, followed by another groan. He closed the door behind him, sitting beside you. “Tell me what’s on your mind?”
“Oh,” you sigh, your shoulder touching his, “Just this entire situation. I mean, you haven’t done anything wrong, it’s just, for three months now I’ve only been here, at the base. And it’s starting to feel a little…”
“You’re starting to feel a little trapped?” 
“Yes,” you cover your face with your hands, “I just want to be able to go outside, to go out and hang out with my other friends, to see something besides these walls. I don’t want to appear ungrateful-”
“Oh hardly, It makes sense,” he places a hand in the middle of your back, rubbing firmly, but carefully, working the knots there, “I think I’d go a little stir crazy too. But I promise, we’ll be done soon. We’re in need of just one more piece of the puzzle, then we’ll be ready to go. You can talk to me about anything you know, even this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you resented me a bit for keeping you ‘locked up’ as it were.”
“Nah,” you say softly, glancing up at him, “Mom and I made our choice, we knew it’d take a while. We’re just dealing with it as we go.” He was such a pretty image, cool light coming in from the streetlamp illuminating his features in a soft glow. Your eyes lingered over his lips a bit longer than you mean to. “Thank you for the offer, I’ll keep that in mind”
You lean forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, lips barely brushing. His brows shot up, surprised. Just as you began to pull a bit back, he took a chance, his lips brushing over yours ever so softly. Your heart lit up in glee; you lean forward more, your kiss no longer so soft and light.
He groans, his right hand moving to cup your jaw, the other at the small of your back, pulling your chests together until they were flush. He somehow slips his tongue in, your answering moan being swallowed by him as your hands run through his hair. Your tongues danced together, as if mapping every crevice to commit the appendage to memory.
Reluctantly, he pulls away, his freckles drowned by the pink blush on his cheeks, lips slightly damp. He presses a kiss to your lips, to your cheek and jaw, moving down towards your neck, licking at a particular spot that had your breath hitched. He nibbled softly before outright biting the area, a move that had your stomach doing flips that left a syrupy warm trail and a giggle escaping your lips.
As his nibbles and suckles became more intense, your grip on his hair tightened, your whimpers music to his ears. With one last suck he pulled away completely, taking in your image. You were now laying down on the couch with him above you, hair all mussed up and lips flushed a pretty damp color. 
He went down for another kiss, letting his weight rest on you slightly. As heavy as he was, it felt comforting to you, you could feel the beginnings of something stirring below. 
A knock at the door had jumped you out of your mood, like jumping into a pool of ice water. 
“Deku? We have some more info to relay to you”
You didn’t care to identify the voice, your disappointment evident on your face. He pressed a sweeter kiss to your lips before slowly backing off of you. 
“I’m sorry, I...I should probably-” 
You couldn’t be upset with him, not really. Not when he seemed just as disappointed as you. “No, it’s alright, it could be really important. We’ll talk later, yeah?” “Yeah, Definitely.” 
He stood up, giving you one more soft look, before exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
As much as the two of you had intended to talk the next day, it turned out that bit of information was incredibly important. For the next few days, the base had been buzzing like a bee hive, everyone working together to create the perfect plan of infiltration. 
You were so...You had thought that You’d be happy for the news, but now you were mixed. If Deku succeeded, then you had no more reason to stay, you were free to go home, to go out with friends. But it also meant that you wouldn’t be seeing Deku again. At that realization, your heart had grown heavy like stone and sunk to your stomach. 
Instead of waiting until after the take down, you asked to meet with him before he left, in the same spot you had been meeting.
You’d made two cups of tea, his just how he liked it. You nervously held onto the cup, staring into the liquid as if it had all the answers.
Not a moment later and in walked Deku, the door closing behind him. He seemed wired, energy radiating off of him as if it had nowhere else to go. But still, he kept quiet as he sat down next to you.
It was awkward, actually the first time you’d ever felt awkward around him. What were you supposed to say? ‘Hey, please don’t go after those people so we can be together, if we’re gonna be together at all?’
“Y-you know, I thought you’d be a bit more excited for today.” He broke the ice, melting it with a sip of his hot tea. 
“I did too... but then...I won’t beat around the bush, I like you, quite a bit Deku, and I really liked that we kissed. I’d like to do it again. But...when you win, we won't be able to see each other again. I really want to see you again.” Your neutral expression turned into a frown. 
Deku was quiet for only a few moments, you let the silence lay still- let him process what you’d just said. 
“I really want to see you again, too. To properly ask you out. We don’t have to stop seeing one another just because you’re leaving the base. It just means that...there will be some conditions, to keep you safe. Like being escorted home by either me or another trusted member, at least when it comes to coming to see me.”
“I can live with that,” you swear, taking his hand in yours, “ anything to see you again Deku”
He cups your jaw, bringing your foreheads to touch, “ You are just so sweet, Doll. There’s just one more thing”
“What is it?” “When we’re alone, call me Izuku. It’s only fair you know my real name.”
“Izuku,” you taste the name on your tongue, the smooth way it leaves your lips brings a satisfied smile to your face, “I like it” “And I like hearing you say it” he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “ I’ll be back soon, don’t you worry” 
It takes almost all day, but Deku wins, the last member of The Royal Devils was killed at midnight on the dot. All of their territory was now for Deku to fill. He comes home to you bloodied and bruised but alive.
After a few months, the two of you were going quite steady, having weekly date nights, going out on the town and having the time of your lives. But it wasn’t enough, you missed being able to see him as soon as you woke up.
Your mother thought you were moving a bit fast, but you couldn’t help it. You loved him, and he loved you just as much. You’d decided to move in with him.
So far you were going on two years strong, as you found yourself sat on his lap, your temple pressed against his neck as you listened to his voice rumble on towards the other members. You were hardly paying attention, far too busy reminiscing about how you ended up here.
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thr-333 · 4 years
Text
Mismatch- Part 4
Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020
The meeting! always a precious moment when you see your child for the first time. Although they usually aren't 18 when you do, and you usually know they are your child too!
First< Previous> Next
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“Marinette! Marinette! Wake up!”
“Five more minutes Tikki,” Marinette groans, rolling over.
“This is why I wanted you to come back earlier,” The Kwami chastises.
“Uhhhhggghh,”
“Marinette!” Chloe bursts through the door, Tikki darting off to hide, “Get up, get ready,”
“Nooo- Hey! Chloe,” Marinette tries to tug the blanket back up.
“No you don’t! I am not leaving you behind again!" She drags the blanket out of the room.
“Ugh,” Marinette rolls out of bed, padding out the room.
“Good morning,” Kagami greets, already dressed, hair perfectly brushed, sipping what must be tea.
“Morning people,” Marinette glares shuffling to the bathroom, hair out of place, pyjamas ruffled.
“Don’t worry about it,” Marinette hears from the living room, “It’s just jet-lag,”
“Taking a shower,” Marinette calls, closing the door.
“We’ve already had one,” Kagami answers, “.... separately,”
“You didn’t need to specify!” Marinette can hear the blush in Chloe's voice.
Marinette quickly showers, waking up enough to realise she left everything in her room. As she dries her hair she quickly notices the bathroom was already littered with makeup and hair products from Chloe.
“Alright this, or this one?” Chloe asks holding up two jackets for Kagami. Marinette leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
“Which is warmer?” Kagami is now cleaning her mug.
“Why would that matter?” Chloe inspects herself in a mirror.
Marinette closes the door on Kagami launching into a lecture. She looks around the room to see pieces of her costume littering the ground. She starts with her thermal black tights. Zipping Marion's makeshift cape back up she turns it into a skirt, flipping to the pink side. She turns her jumper inside out, back to the white with a cherry blossom pattern. Underneath she pulls on a bullet proof vest/shirt combination, the chunkiness being hidden by the jumper. Lastly she pulls on her gloves and boots, taking note that Marion must still have her scarf. While she still has his jacket.
“Hurry up!” Chloe knocked on her door, “We need to get breakfast!”
“I’m coming,” Marinette stuffs the jacket into her backpack with the Miracle box, Tikki flying in after it, “Ready to go,”
They walk down to breakfast to the hotel's complimentary breakfast. As part of their trip they would be getting dinner as well.
“Over here,” Marinette hears someone call, turning to see Adrien waving from a table across the restaurant, with a tired Nino and an exhausted Marion.
“Good Morning,” She says cheerfully, specifically to Adrien as she doesn't think the others would agree.
“How dare you,” Marion grumbles, slowly chewing his toast.
“Sleep well?” Marinette specifically asks Marion, taking a seat.
“How dare you,” He repeats, swallowing with a sour face.
Marinette steals his plate while Kagami and Chloe go to serve themselves.
“Ha, you’re loss, it sucks,” Marion doesn't even try to reach for the plate.
“You’re just grumpy,” Marinette hums, taking a bite of the admittedly sub par pastries.
“And you live in a bakery,” Adrien adds a touch dreamily, Marinette blushes and nods.
“So, Nette, did you know about Mari’s little crush,” Nino leans forward.
“Not again,” Marion lets his head hit the table.
“Oh? He told you?” Marinette smiles evilly.
“Yep,”
“Not willingly!” Marion shouts into the table.
“What’s this about a crush?” Chloe takes a seat next to Kagami.
“Marion’s,” Nino specifies, mirroring each other's growing grins, “Can you guess who?”
“Hmmmm…. in our class?” She butters a roll, seeming to be solely focused on it.
“Nope, a Hero,” Nino watches as Marion tries to disappear into the table.
“In Gotham?” She guesses, taking a bite.
“Yep,”
“Batman?”
“No!” Marion slams his hands down on the table, Chloe laughs.
“Come on, I know it’s Red Hood, you wear that outfit everyday,” She teases.
“You already knew?” Marion whines.
“Awe, sweetie, you aren’t subtle,” Chloe pats him on the head.
“You’re all the worst,” Marion glares at the table, “Except you Kagami, you’re cool,”
“Thank you,” Kagami nods ignoring Chloe's offended jabbering.
“Speaking of my outfit, which I wear because it is cool and for no other reason-”
“Sure,” Chloe snorts, Marion gives her a glare.
“-I’m missing my jacket, Nette come with me?” Marion stands up turning to Marinette.
“Why?” Adrien says, probably louder than needed, as Marinette grabs her backpack.
“Because the second I see my bed I’m going to fall asleep and I need someone to wake me up,” Marinette follows Marion to the elevators.
“You got my jacket?” He asks, as soon as they step in.
“Right here,” Marinette fishes it out of her bag, disturbing Tikki munching on cookies.
“I’m going back to Paris for patrol, cover for me?” Marion shrugs on the brown leather jacket, the red embroidered bats on the back matching his hoodie.
“You’re going to be late for the tour,” Marinette warns, walking him to his room.
“No one will notice, if they do just say I’ll be there later,” Marion opens a door with his keycard, “I’ll transport back right outside of Wayne Tower,”
“Don’t be late,” Marinette closes the door behind them. Marion lets his Kwami's fly out. Marinette spots a pile of sugar packets stolen from the hotels restaurant.
“I won’t,” Marion gives her a smile that is not at all trustworthy. “Plagg! Kaalki! Combine!”
A flash of light and a portal later Marion was gone. Marinette went back down to finish breakfast.
“Where’s Marion?” Kagami asks, as Marinette sits back down.
“He made the mistake of looking in the mirror and is now trying to tame his hair,” Marinette takes another bite of a sad excuse of a croissant, “He’s losing,”
The rest of the table chuckled. More classmates started to come down. Nino left to say good morning to Alya, and stayed sitting at Lila’s table.
“Make sure you’re out front for the bus in ten minutes,” Madame Bustier warns them, walking by their table.
“Marion’s still not down?” Adrien looks around, as if he was some reason hiding from them.
“Did you see his hair?” Chloe plays with her own, “I would never be caught dead,”
“What about this morning when-”
“No idea what you're talking about,” Chloe says over Kagami.
“I texted him,” Marinette waves her phone, “He fell asleep, made it worse, says he won't be coming until it’s perfect,”
“That will never happen,” Chloe scoffs.
When the bus arrives they all pile on. Madame Bustier does a quick scan on the bus before nodding to herself.
“Marion isn’t here,” Kagami hisses.
“It’s fine, he know where we’re going,” Marinette pulls her back down, “he says he’ll meet us there,”
“Why wouldn’t she check?” Kagami glares at the back of their teachers' heads.
“She must have just thought he was with me,” Marinette placates taking her hand, Kagami practically growls but doesn't say anything more.
They arrive at Wayne tower, quickly being approached by a dark haired man with a smile.
“Hello, I’m Richard, but please call me Dick, I’ll be your guide today,” He scans the students, smile dropping, before addressing Madame Bustier, “You seem to be missing a student,”
“Really?” She turns around, passing right over Marinette, “Who?”
“Marion is still at the hotel,” Kagami snaps, Madame Bustiers eyes land on Marinette seeming to notice for the first time that Marion wasn’t with her.
“Oh dear I assumed he was with you Marinette,” Marinette watches the disbelief on Dick’s face grow.
“He was running behind, told us to go on without him,” Marinette curses Marion inwardly.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me that,” Madame Bustier fixes her with a disappointed stare.
“I-”
“Isn’t it your job to look after your students,” Dick glowers, Madame Bustier looks at him surprised, “Why wouldn’t you do an actual headcount?”
“Well I assumed-”
“You assumed your students safety?” Marinette can feel how uncomfortable their flustered teacher is getting.
“I thought they would speak up if someone was missing,” Madame Bustier defends herself, "My students are very responsible,"
“That’s not their responsibility, It’s yours,” The whole class watches wide eyed. Marinette looks over to see both Kagami and Chloe wearing satisfied smirks.
“Well it all worked out,” Madame Bustier give a fake smile, “Marinette said Marion could make his own way here so-”
“You do realise Gotham is dangerous, right?” Dick wasn’t about to let her off the hook.
“Yes, I reminded the students not to run off on their own,” Her tone starts to turn annoyed at his insistence.
“You are allowing them to ‘run off’ by not checking on them,” Dick chastises, “You should have held the bus until all your student was ready,”
“Mr Richard,” Lila cuts in, apparently having taken as much as she can bear of not being the center of attention, “Marinette and Marion are always disappearing to get attention, just ignore them,”
“Miss, a classmate of yours is missing and could potentially be in danger,” Dick berates, turning his glare to Lila, “It is not something to be ignored,”
“Well,” Lila doesn't shrink under his glare, “I think-”
“Uh, what's going on?” All heads turn to Marion who is standing behind the group, out of breath.
“Marion! You’re here,” Madame Bustier’s relief is clear.
“Uh, yeah,” Marion shuffles awkwardly under the attention, “My taxi got stuck in traffic so I had to run, sorry I’m late,”
“That all right, just make sure you-” Madame Bustier pauses as Dick’s glare snaps back to her, “We’ll just have to make sure to do a headcount from now on,”
“Right, sorry again,” He looks around the room, “We should probably step away from the entrance?”
“Of course,” Madame Bustier startles, having forgotten where they were. She addresses Dick a little awkwardly. “Now that everyone’s here should we start?”
“Of course,” Dick clears his throat, “This way please,”
“After all that your hair is still a mess,” Chloe sighs, as the four of them follow behind Dick.
“What?” Marinette kicks him, “... You try running four blocks and see how good your hair looks,”
“Thats where you’re wrong,” Chloe shakes her head as the rest of the class follow behind them, Madame Bustier at the back, “My hair looks fabulous no matter what,”
“Except for this morning when-”
“Would you stop bringing that up!?” Chloe shouts at Kagami.
“Be quiet and listen,” Marinette hushes them, as Dick starts talking.
Not everyone shares the same sentiment, as they can hear Lila from all the way in the back
“I can’t believe he would do something like that for attention, I was so worried,” Neither bother looking back to see Lila.
“I’m just glad Marions ok,” Mylene says, much quieter, “I was getting really scared he would get attacked with the way the guide was reacting,”
“Me too,” Lila sighs, “I can’t help thinking this is all my fault,”
“Why would it be your fault girl,” Alya takes the bait.
“Well last night we were talking, and I told him I was excited to come to Wayne tower to see my good friend Bruce and he just stormed off,” Marinette rolls her eyes, knowing Marion was punching people like her last night.
“You know Bruce Wayne?!” Alya whisper-shouts. This draws Dicks attention, Marinette just shakes her head, hoping he’ll get the message. He seems to as he focuses back on the tour, with a strangely amused if not angry expression.
“Oh, I know all the Waynes, I met them as part of my charity work, but we’ve become good friends,” Lila’s group burst out in excitement at the news asking her a million questions. Even Nathaniel seems to be interested.
The only others who aren't talking are Max and Alix, walking in the middle of the two group. Dick starts to speak louder over the trying-to-be-whispers and Lila’s loud jabbering.
“And this branch was put in place in 1988 to- they aren’t listening are they?” Dick asks Marinette and her friends.
“Sorry, about them, trust me you’re a thousand times more interesting than those lies,” Dick beams at her compliment.
“They really believe all that?” Dick shakes his head as Lila starts going on how she dated the CEO, Tim Drake.
“For some reason,” Chloe scoffs, “They all seem to be under a spell,”
“That looks like some black magic, maybe we should hold a witch trial?” Dick whispers, getting hushed laughs.
With that, a cruel truth is discovered. Dick seems to share the same kind of humour as Marion and Adrien, that is to say; terrible. This leaves those who are actually paying attention to suffer at the hands of an onslaught of terrible jokes and puns. The tour becoming a horrendous mix of education and bad comedy, as they make their way to the top.
“And here we have the some main meeting rooms, where all the bosses decide to get someone else to do their jobs,” Dick guided them down the halls. Marinette spots a familiar figure leaning against the wall up ahead.
“Aunt Selina!” Marion races down the hall a split second before Marinette does.
“What-” She looks up just in time to be knocked over by the twins and tackled into a hug, “What, are you two doing here?”
“We told you we had a class trip in Gotham,” Marinette smiles as she hugs them both tighter.
“That was this month?” She goes wide eyed, “When did you arrive,”
“Yesterday,” Marion helps her stand up.
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” She ruffles his hair playfully.
“Well-”
“Oh my god, you two can’t just run into people like that, you need to stop being so clumsy” Lila chides, the rest of the group having caught up with them. They all looked in varying degrees of confusion, Dick seemingly the most taken aback.
“Did you not hear them call me Aunt,” Seleina glares down at Lila standing protectively in front of the twins, “I would be insulted if they did anything less than bowl me over for a hug,”
“I just-”
“You didn’t tell me about this,” Chloe cuts Lila off.
“Sorry Chlo,” Marion turns to Aunt Selina, “These our are friends, Chloe, Kagami and Adrien, that's Nino and Max, the rest are our classmates,”
“Nice to meet you,” Selina addresses those named. She looks proud of Marion managing to insult the rest of the class, judging by their annoyed expressions.
“Selina,” Dick speaks up, “I didn’t know you were the twins Aunt,”
“There's a lot you don’t know,” Selina hugs the two closer as the door next to them opens.
A man Marinette recognises as Bruce Wayne steps out. Followed by Tim from the airport.
“Selina are you ready to-” Bruce’s eyes land on them, glancing back at the class, “What’s going on,”
“Uhh,” Selina hesitates, something Marinette hardly ever heard her Aunt do.
“They’re Selina’s niece and nephew,” Dick responds for her, still sounding bewildered.
“.... I wasn't aware,” Bruce glances at Selina who just shrugs. He offers his hand to the twins. “I’m Bruce Wayne, Selina's fiance,”
“Oh! Nice to meet you, I’m Marinette,” She shakes his hand with a smile.
“Marion," Marion shakes his hand after, bouncing with excitement, "Aunt Selina didn’t tell us she was engaged,”
“Surprises all around,” Their Aunt says strained.
“Indeed,” Bruce stares down Selina, who rises to the challenge.
“I know you!” Marion notices Tim, “Thanks again for yesterday,”
“Not a problem, seems I made the right choice,” Marion looks puzzled, “Bruce is my adoptive Father,”
“Cool… wait does that mean we’re going to be cousins?” Marion beams, seemingly catching Tim off guard. Marinette joined them while Selina and Bruce were whispering off to the side.
“I suppose it does,” Dick came up behind them, slinging a arm around Tim “I’m Tim’s brother,”
“Really? He told us about you,” Marinette teases, sharing a smirk with the boys.
“What did he say?” Their smirks grew wider, “Tim, what did you say!?”
“Don’t you have a tour to lead?” Time dodges the question.
“We should let you go,” Bruce breaks from his conversation, “You two should come over for dinner tonight,”
“Sounds lovely,” Marinette agrees, Marion nodding, “What should we wear?”
“Anything you like,” Bruce chuckles, “Trust me, we’re not that formal,”
“Alright see you tonight,” Marion stops her from asking again. “Bye,”
Tim and Bruce leave saying their goodbyes. The twins turn to Selina.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Marion interrogates.
“Because you would tell Tom,” Selina boops him on the nose, “And I don’t want my brother making a wedding cake before a date is even set,”
“Papa would do that,” Marinette hugs their Aunt, “See you tonight?”
“Of course, kittens,”
229 notes · View notes
iloveitwhen · 4 years
Text
First Meetings
I really should have posted this a long long time ago but.............. oh well.
@jasonette-july-2k20 
Sibling Jasonette
The first time he met Marinette he was pissed, she looked nothing like him! How dare she claim to be the daughter of his mother. 
“Listen, little girl,” he snarled at the dark haired teenager who stood calmly in front of him, “I don’t care how you got that name but I do not have a sister.” 
“Don’t the eyes match?” she asked emotionless, staring at him in a challenge. Jason was startled and took a better look at hers and felt the blood drain from his face. She was right, despite only meeting his mother for a short time he committed the face in his memory, the girl shared the same shaped rose lips, small nose, and shade of blue eyes that matched not only his mothers but his own. 
“My father was another doctor in Ethiopia, I was five when Shiela died and I was sent to live with my biological father’s sister and her husband in France.” She took a deep breath, “look. You don’t have to believe me but I wanted to let you know, I think people deserve the decency to know these things.” She adjusted the strap of her backpack on her back and turned to leave. “I’m sorry you didn’t want me for a sister.” she says as she walks away. 
Jason stands there for a moment, he doesn’t know if he wants to believe it, but she had proof on her face that held his mother’s features. Could she only be after him for his connection to Bruce? Was she really his sister? 
Sister. 
He had to make sure.
“Wait!” he stepped outside of his apartment and looked down the hallway the way she walked but she was already gone. He quickly shut his door and chased after her, letting his long legs bound over the running children down the hall. He skidded to a halt when he came to the reception desk. 
“Did a teenage girl with black pigtails just walk out of here?” he shouts at Riley, the receptionist who nods vigorously noticing his panic. He runs out and looks around the small area, luckily he was taller than most people and could easily look over the heads of the few people who were around in the early morning. Unluckily she had disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared. 
“Shit!” 
“You know it’s not polite to curse.” Jason whipped around and found the girl was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. 
“You played me.” 
She shrugged, “you wouldn’t listen to me and I wasn’t sure if you’d come down or not to be honest.” then she pushed herself off the wall and gave him a bright smile and laughed a little, completely different from how she was acting before at his door, “I am glad you came though!” 
This girl was throwing him for a loop. 
“How do I know you're telling the truth? And what do you want?” she gave him a quizzical look. 
“We can do a blood test, and I don’t want anything from you!” she said as if it was the most scandalous thing. “I would never do such a thing, I just wanted to meet you.” she gave another, more soft smile, it was quite disarming and Jason got the distinct realization that this girl could be very dangerous. 
---
The first time he met Ladybug he was quite confused. She was standing in front of him in the filthiest part of Gotham in a strange red and black polka dotted superhero spandex suit with thick brown accents. Just who did she think she was running around in that suit. He eyed her warily, she had a similar face shape as his sister except she was taller and had big brown eyes and white hair crafted into twin braided tails that fell down to her waist. 
“Please, Red Hood.” 
"Look. I don't know you, you could be some evil mastermind for all I care, and besides, I'm really not the person you should ask. Even if this all is real I have anger issues and hearing about this guy really fuels my desire to kill the bastard." He shakes his head and shrugs. "I don't know what to tell you, I'm not even the best detective, actually, I might be the worst out of the bunch." He turns to leave but the girl calls him back. 
"Wait. You can help, I sought you out specifically, and you are also quite good at keeping secrets and this definitely needs to be kept a secret. We already know who is behind the mask but we need proof and that's where you come in. We need help, please, just think about it. I'll be here in two days at the same time for your answer. If you decide to help bring a bag with a few changes of clothes and whatever you need." 
"I'll think about it." 
She nodded and gave him a sad smile before turning and yelling, "voyage!" And stepping through a portal. 
Weird. Well at least he’d be able to see his sister, she did live in Paris after all. For a moment he thought that Ladybug could be Marinette but shook his head she would have told him about bleaching her hair, not to say that she wouldn’t be the type to hero around but there was just no way, Jason wasn’t that unlucky. 
---
Red Hood waited at the agreed upon spot with a duffle bag on the ground at his feet when the weird hero chick opened a portal and stepped through. 
“Red Hood!” she says, relief passing through her features and she spots his duffle and looks at him with excitement in her eyes. “Have you decided to help?” she asks with a hopeful smile. 
Red Hood grunts in response before threatening, “look, I don’t kill kids but if this is some sort of joke I might break my rules.” But instead of looking scared she sighed in relief, keeping her smile. 
“Thank you Red.” Jason’s heart broke a little at the utmost gratitude from her voice, like no one ever bothered to help her when she asked for it. Before she could say another word the round thing on her hip beeped and when she opened it she grimaced. 
“We have an akuma attack. Come on, I want you to watch but stay out of sight.” she called “voyage” again like last time and a portal appeared but she looked back at him and added, “please stay out of this fight, we have this handled and you will get in the way.” He nodded and they stepped through.
She had portaled them to the top of a tall building, it was nighttime in Paris when it was dusk at Gotham  and in the distance he saw the Eiffel Tower getting picked up by a giant kid who looked about six years old but was half the size of the Eiffel Tower itself that he just chucked. Behind the mask Jason's brows went high and his jaw dropped. 
“Don’t worry,” the girl reassured him. “Gigantitan isn’t too bad, just a poor kid who gets akumatized regularly. Dismount.” 
“Dismo-?” Jason began but was caught off guard by the flash of teal colored light surrounding the girl. In place of the suit from before she stood in a mostly black suit with red and black polka dots covering her arms and torso, the bottom was black with a thick red stripe around her ankles and black under her forearms and palms. Her hair had changed to black with short pigtails and her eyes blue. 
“What the f-”
“Stay out of sight, I’ll come back for you.” She pulled the round thing off her hip and started swinging it in a circle by a string, was that a yoyo?, and swung off after the giant baby child. Jason was slightly panicked, she just transformed in a flash of light and looked like his sister when they first met. Marinette had outgrown the pigtails and now usually wore her hair down, in braids, or in buns. And her eyes were blue. Jason shook his head of the thought, this Ladybug must have just made the pigtails popular, and plenty of people have blue eyes. He then ran after the hero to get a closer look without getting in the way. 
He saw two more heroes trying to keep the monster contained when they converged to meet up with the Ladybug. He decided to get closer and leaped across the rooftops till he could see and hear the heroes working clearly but was also out of the way. 
It was clear Ladybug was the leader, she barked orders while joining the fight as well. It was a quick win but the weirdest part wasn’t when the giant-baby-thing was enveloped in purple goo and shrunk to reveal a young six year old boy, it was when the girl tossed something in the air and a burst of little flying things came out of nowhere and magically fixed everything, including the destroyed Eiffel Tower. Jason was very confused. Sure he’d seen some crazy things over the years but that didn’t mean it was any less strange. He observed how they surrounded the boy and comforted him, soon the blonde haired man in the all black suit and cat ears gathered the boy in his arms and bounded away, likely taking the boy home. The black spotted hero with her third partner, pointing to the place he was told to stay and they both sprouted wings and flew in that direction. 
“Hey!” he called out, stepping into the light. The two heroes looked over and started in his direction. They landed softly on the roof and their wings disappeared into wisps of white smoke. 
“Red Hood I told you too-”
“I know, I know, I just wanted to get a better look. I think I need a lot more explaining.” 
The leader nodded then gestured to her partner, “this is Hornet, Hornet, this is Red Hood.” 
He looked her over as she did him, her suit was mostly black as well, her torso was black with burnt yellow along the seams in honeycomb shapes and in the same color she had several diagonal lines down her legs. She also had a mask like his though it resembled a bee’s head. 
“Nice mask,” Hornet commented, her voice wasn’t muffled as it should have been and Jason nodded his thanks. 
“Yours is a lot cooler.” He paused for a moment then continued, “I know it’s late here so we can meet up some other time so you kids can get some rest, I can have an explanation later.” Ladybug’s eyebrow quirked up but she nodded. 
“Thanks. Hornet will lead you to the hotel you’ll be staying. Don’t worry, it’ll be safe, no one will find your identity.” 
---
The second time he met Marinette, well, let’s just say the magic that conceals the identities of the Miraculous holders did not work on Jason. 
I did a second part that technically follows this and explains how Mari and Jason are related 
Soulmates Day 2
222 notes · View notes
needdatbag · 3 years
Text
Drinking You/II
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Notes: Soooo....Here’s part 2..Thanx for the notes guyssss <3 ♥
Summary: You encounter a stranger on your way back from the grocery shop and everything about him pulls you in.
Pairings: Eren Yeager x Reader; Various pairings eventually
Warnings: NSFW(not today tho); mentions of smoking. 
>
Part II
’’Kid….Am I not interesting enough for your small, forgetful brain?’’ asked Levi from his desk, his grey eyes expressing the dissatisfaction he had about your mistake.
THE FILE. The Eren Yeager file. The file he stole from your bag after he finished...well...screwing you. To say that you were upset about the fact that you were used as a mere excuse for theft was an understatement. You were pissed as hell.
But your boss came first, as his death glare made you snap out of your one sided grudge with the memory of the charming terrorist you encountered. It was definitely wrong and probably a bad move but you couldn’t tell Levi what happened. So….you lied.
’’For the 27th time, I am so sorry that I ‘accidentally’ threw an important file into the shredder..I was cleaning my desk and I wasn’t paying attention.’’ you sounded honest but a little mechanical as you said the same excuse for awhile now.
Levi raised one of his brows at your nonchalance but sighed and said:
’’At least you didn't lose it. That would have been a big ass problem.’’
You clenched your fist behind your back. This was not ending well for you.
’’Please..I’m not that idiotic.’’ somehow your tone didn’t betray you but a small voice in your mind retorted immediately, ‘You are more than idiotic and you’re definetley screwed.’. You gulped.
A soft knock interrupted the beginning of your inner mental breakdown. Armin entered Levi’s office carrying a stack of files in one arm and holding what looked like a coffee cup in the other. He placed the files on Levi’s desk and handed him the cup. You suddenly blurted out your first thought.
’’But you don’t drink coffee.’’
Levi’s death glare almost made you take a step back. Well, maybe Eren Yeager took more than the file...he stole your brain too as you suddenly find yourself incapable of thinking. You want to slap a hand over your mouth. What the hell was wrong with you lately?
Armin watched you curiously for a moment. You feared his intuition, he was too sharp sometimes and that made you anxious in the current situation, but you tried to play it off anyway.
’’Ahem, yes, I heard it from Mrs. Zoe? Ha, am I wrong ?’’ you laughed awkwardly at the end of your sentence.
Armin shook his head, his short blonde hair hitting his face in the process. ’’That is right. As expected of you, Y/N, your mind always picks up the smallest details. The Captain drinks tea. I got a few extra cups to go, just 10 minutes ago. You can help yourself from the kitchen...Though I’m pretty sure you love coffee more.’’ he said while giving you a kind, small smile. You smiled back trying not to break eye contact.
‘You might be my best friend’s soulmate.’
You cringed internally. Not because you didn't find Armin attractive, because you thought the boy could even model if he wanted to, but because of what happened later after Eren said that phrase. You shook your head trying to banish the image of a long haired, 6ft man on top of your naked body. ‘Not the time, not the time.’
You wondered what Armin would think about the fact that you got to meet his best friend before he did. As you found out today, turns out they have not met in more than a year. You felt guilty for keeping your mouth shut. But it seemed like the best course of action. You needed to act solo for a while.
In a safe way, of course.
Levi motioned for Armin to leave but as he got closer to the door you saw his eyes discreetly peering at your neck and then at your face. Your hair was covering most of your hickeys but Armin might have noticed something anyway.
Once he left the room, Levi got up from his seat and approached the window.
He was wearing a plain white dress shirt and black pants with a pair of dark brown leather shoes. He was not going on the field today, you could tell that much because of his outfit. He was in his thirties now but his looks still caused many casualties between the female officers, especially the MPs who were more than enthusiastic when Levi passed them by. He was one of the best at his job and his handsome face was obviously a bonus.
You always said it was the mix between his good looks and his cold attitude that was pulling people in, but he was far from an unfeeling person. He usually cared too much about everything. Seeming distant was just his way of preserving himself. People were impressed just by hearing stories about him. But most of them had no idea how much he suffered. You knew. Not that he liked that. He never liked the fact that fate seemed to always make you meet again and again.
The first time, as his student when he was teaching in highschool. The second time as his blind date, Hange’s courtesy. The third time as the new member of his team, fate’s courtesy this time.
Each time you look at him you remember how selfish you’ve always been. You hate the thought but you know and can’t deny the fact that one way or another you always became a burden for the man sitting right across you. Right from the start.
----------------------------------------------------------------------- ’’Sir, is she worth it?’’ an eighteen years old you asked a younger Levi who was just exiting through the school’s gates. As he whipped his head back to match the voice to the person, his stern look softened just a bit. It was late and you were supposed to be home long ago. Instead you were only leaving now, a bag full of books in your right hand. You always stayed in the library until the school closed. You didn’t want to go home anyway.
’’That’s not an ideal question to ask about your sister, is it, brat?’’
You started laughing. He knew better than to refer to his fiance as your sister. You hated the bitch and there was no bond whatsoever between the two of you. She was just the awful daughter of the amazing woman who took you in after your parents kicked you out.
’’Can you give me a ride home, sir? I am afraid my frail arms are unable to carry these books until I reach the nearest bus stop.’’ you said in a dramatic tone while Levi just massaged his temples out of frustration but made a gesture towards his car anyway.
You smiled at him as you entered the car. He was driving in silence, without any radio music in the background, without any small talk. You wanted to tell him so many things, you wanted to express your indignation regarding the fact that your ‘sister’ was cheating on him and using him as an alibi so her mother won’t ever suspect she’s dating one of the biggest drug dealers in the region, you wanted to complain about the fact that he wasted his good heart on someone who wronged him before, you wanted to ask him why was he clinging to unhappiness so desperately. You could never understand. Even as you watched as the road light travelled on his face while he drove, you could only think about how well he managed to hide his pain. People didn’t notice that he was alone most of the time. Or that he rarely smiled.
It made you sad, it made you think of a part of yourself. Except you constantly fought for your right at happiness even if sadness never left your side. No matter how annoying that made you, you still kept going. But he didn’t even seem like he tried. He looked like the loneliest person on earth and he hid it so well that if you said what you thought out loud, people would just think you're looking into it too much.
You reached your house and his car stopped. Somehow, only now you noticed the pleasant smell inside the car. It smelled like fruity tea-bags which you assumed came from a spare ’stash’ he had somewhere around. You smiled. He always drinks tea during the breaks. It makes him look so refined too. Without any intention you giggled. He noticed and raised a brow, asking:
’’What makes you so happy that you’re hesitating to get out of my car? Hm? Move it, you didn’t even had dinner yet.’’
You turned your whole body towards him while you spoke in an excited manner.
’’I was thinking about you, sir. The way you enjoy your tea during breaks and how that’s the most happy I saw you since I came to this school.’’
With a confused look on his face he tilted his head but let you speak nonetheless. Your voice became softer while you looked down, your hair falling over your face.
’’You see, I believe that happiness can only come from being honest with yourself. Lie to the world, lie to people but if you lie to yourself you’ll just tint your soul to the point even the tea you love so much won’t taste the same anymore.’’
Levi’s eyes widened slightly. He knew you were outspoken and that sometimes you caused trouble because you meddled in things that were none of your business and you spoke way too much but he couldn’t deny the way you arranged your words. He knew you had a kind heart and that you were trying to reach his. He almost wanted to smile. ‘Stupid kid.’
He didn't say anything as you exited the car but watched you until you entered the house. You were right, he knew he was cheated on, he knew he was used but there was another side to his truth too. He used the idea of a fiance to run away from both his past and future.
But looking at you who had nothing but wanted everything, he thought that maybe, just maybe...he became a coward. And he always hated cowards.
As you watched him drive away, that was the last time you met him as a teacher, as he would lose his job in two weeks due to murder acusations regarding his fiance. Your ‘sister’.
You’d hear from your classmates how a tall, blonde detective cuffed him in front of the whole school while he put up a fight.
Then he would be gone and you wouldn't hear anything about him for a few years. -------------------------------------------------
’’So, care to explain why you are so distracted today?’’ he was gazing outside the window but you couldn’t help notice the way his voice was softer now that you were alone again.
’’I was unable to rest well last night, however you don’t need to worry, sir. I’ll snap back as soon as I drink some coffee, just as Armin suggested.’’
Another lie. You actually slept like a baby because you were so exhausted. The bed felt so warm and the man next to you smelt so good that you felt like you were floating. Only your dumb ass could sleep so relaxed next to a criminal.
You pondered before asking the next question.
’’What type of person used to be.....Eren Yeager?’’
His name sounded so different from your mouth or maybe that was your own perception. You recognised a little stinginess in your tone.
You pulled out your phone and started a voice recording. You were allowed to do so when it came to declarations. You were a profiler afterall. You needed to go over conversations and details, multiple times to complete your work.
Levi turned away from the window and took a few steps closer to you. His expression looked indifferent but you knew better. There was regret mixed in his feelings.
’’That brat wasn’t the most talented nor the smartest agent around, I actually often thought he was more of an idiot than most people I knew..’’
You stopped yourself from laughing. ’Unprofessional...Don’t do it. Let him continue.’
’’He was too much of a hot head for his own good but he listened to my orders and tried to look at things from a more mature perspective, perhaps we might have asked too much from him. Our department was in trouble and we lost more people than you could count, in a very short amount of time. We had an operation that lasted for more than 2 years. Eren was the key to that operation. Everything circled around him. We wanted to find answers so badly, we sacrificed so much that we never saw the fact that we had spies among us and the whole operation became more than a national issue. You said you read the file before you shredded it, right? I also mentioned it in the meeting before. You know what’s the issue I’m talking about, right?’’
Your breathing becomes more alert and a bitter feeling takes over your heart. Memories from your distant childhood try to resurface but you push them away. The past always catches up.
Your voice becomes more serious when you answer.
’’After 14 years of peace we might have another war with the neighbour nation, Marley, is that right?’’
Silence fills the room as Levi only nods. He seems lost in his own mind for a while and you can only guess what he might be thinking about. He was a soldier back then and this whole deal pissed him off.
’’Eren betrayed us. No warning, just a vague explanation. He almost wiped out their whole capital, one of the biggest cities in Marley, he killed VERY important people and now we are threatened left and right. This dumbass is very close to starting the biggest international conflict this country ever faced. Can’t believe that brat had the nerve to come back and now he’s under our jurisdiction again. We have to catch him and fast. Everyone you’ll ask will say he changed, but I always knew he had it in him. He might just destroy the world...no one can cage him. He’s that type of monster.’’
Your body suddenly felt numb, a weird sense of fear trying to take over you. His face, his expressions, everything flashed in your mind repeatedly, pieces of the conversation you had, the way he touched you, the note he left. For the first time in a very long time, you felt lost in translation.
Things were not adding up. Someone was wrong here. Something was definitely missing. You paused the recording and exhaled while rubbing your temples.
’’This should not be handled by a departament full of people that know him. Someone must really want to bury the Survey unit in shit.’’
A humourless laugh escaped your mouth.
’’Sorry Levi, you always hated when I cursed. Forgot about that.’’  you said, a sad look plastered on your face remembering many of the arguments you two had mostly because of you.
He frowned and took another step closer to you, unconsciously wanting to pat your head but you were already heading for the door. He snapped out of it and looked at his hand. He got carried away for a second, wanting to comfort you.
’’I guess you’ll always have a soft spot for me, sir...but we shouldn’t be very comfortable around each other. You were always the better man and I was always the wicked little girl.’’
’’L/N..’’
You exited his office. ‘Unfortunately, I’m still the same.’ you thought while walking to your desk and getting ready to work on the details of some cases that became piled up in the last week.
As you sat down and flipped through various lists of criminals, you tried to silence your mind. Sometimes your mental state was just like a furious sea storm. You have the tendency to drown in your own dark and poisonous thoughts until your identity becomes foggy. But work was a great distraction and thankfully...you sure had plenty of it. So you rolled up your sleeves, took a sip of the coffee Armin put on your desk (somehow the fact that he did sweet gestures like this made you very warm inside) and started working on your reports ignoring intentionally a certain criminal whose face you really didn’t wanna see again today, not on a screen, not printed...you'll deal with the Yeager case at home. You had to catch up on your work anyway.
Right? You weren’t running away or anything...right?
People around you became colorful shadows that moved around exiting or entering the headquarters while you were scribbling furiously details about different cases. When your phone rang, an hour before the end of your shift, you almost jumped out of your chair. You looked around and realised everyone was out and you were the only one left. Probably investigating, or some kind of emergency.
On the screen of your phone Jean’s face was popping up with the incoming call. When he first gave you his contact number he took a selfie of himself because he thought he looked ‘cool’ in that moment and you ‘had to have his handsomeness on your phone’, his words not yours. You rolled your eyes at the memory.
’’ ‘Sup Kirschtein? I’m busy and I swear to God if you call me ‘cause you're bored while being on some stakeout I will…’’ He burst into laughter and answered: ’’Calm down Y/N, I only did that like five or six times and you might’ve even liked it, don’t lie to me now.’’ he said in a charming yet joking voice and you couldn’t help but smile. He was one of the people who could easily put you in a good mood. ’’Wanna get out to get some ‘’fresh air’’ on the roof? It turns out we sorted out what we had to do sooner than expected….well sooner than I thought. That damn Floch will kill me one day...His attitude might just get us both killed.’’
Of course he wanted to smoke and complain about his partner, Floch. Jean didn’t seem like the type to think a lot, especially when you first got to meet him. He’s loud, a little bit of a bragger and has lots of opinions on anything but he was an exceptionally capable man in times of crises. You witnessed that a few times but you also heard it from Sasha: ’’Marco, Jean’s ex-partner, always said that Jean was the one most capable of leading us out of trouble and Marco’s intuition about people was as good as my instincts about danger. He knew what he was saying.’’
When you reached the roof, Jean was already smoking while looking at the red sky. The sun was almost gone. He looked lost in thought, barely noticing you until he heard the sound of your lighter. You took a long puff and exhaled. For some reason you felt exhausted and even if the silence somehow pleased you, it felt unlike Jean. He always liked to talk a lot around you, your smoking breaks being full of gossiping. It was almost always the two of you, given the fact that you and him were the only smokers in the department. You had a hunch that Armin smoked too but only when he was truly bothered by something, Connie tried it once and said he liked it but you knew he lied, Sasha said she didn't like the taste(did not surprise you at all there) and Mikasa thought it was stupid and unhealthy and you honestly agreed.
’’Why do you smoke, Jean?’’ you asked out of the blue. You realised you never asked him that. For some reason the image of Eren staring at you while holding his pack of cigarettes in one hand flashed in your mind. You took another inhale of smoke trying to push the image away. Jean didn’t respond immediately but when his eyes fixed on the cigarette he was holding.
’’Marco used to smoke here. It was so unlike him. He really didn’t seem like the type and he tried to hide it all the time...he was even carrying perfume around.’’ he said and let out a short bitter laugh. For some reason he placed a hand on his face trying to hide his expression. ’’I started smoking after he died. I guess..well fuck...I miss being with my friend. When I’m holding this cigarette it feels as if he’s still here. As if I could …’’ he hesitated before continuing,’’....ask him for advice about what I should do..’’
You got closer to him and bumped your shoulder into his in a friendly manner. He dropped his hand from his face and looked at you. You could see he was emotionally drained but you flashed him a cheerful smile even though you felt like shit as well. You looked up at the now, darker sky and said in a loud voice:
’’By smoking this cigarette I dare ask the amazing Marco Bott from heaven to lend me some of his wisdom. Please let me give our friend here a good answer to the question troubling his, not so young anymore, soul.’’
’’I’m only a year older than you, Y/N.’’ he said, his voice a little amused now. You rolled your eyes.
’’You’re an old soul, Jean. My shift will be over soon so spit it out...What’s bothering yo-’’
’’Did you study Eren’s file?’’ he asked out of the blue. You sighed and took another cigarette out and placed it in your mouth.
’’Not yet. Tonight I plan on looking over it. Why? Wanna tell me something about him that might help me in writing his profile?’’
Jean shook his head and took a puff out of his cigarette.
’’Once you look over it, after you read our statements  about him that are also included there, before writing any report, I want you to tell me something that might help me.’’ you raised a brow in confusion but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was staring straight ahead at the city covered in the red light of the sunset.
’’Who do you think will hesitate when shooting? Us or Eren ?’’
You ran a hand through your hair and looked at the city too. As the night approached, it suddenly looked more dangerous.
‘Who indeed…?’ . . . . . Before leaving you stopped by Hange’s office to drop some of the work you completed for the day. Moblit, her assistant, the guy who you knew for a fact was the only one besides Levi to be able to control your workaholic Director, was trying to force feed her some pizza while she insisted that she had to look over some DNA samples found at a random crime scene.
’’M’am, I know you worked in the lab for most of your life but now you should be dealing only with the work Erwin had to do when he had your position. He didn't try to be in ten places at once! Come on, eat this slice. You didn't eat all day! Do I really have to message Levi right now? You know he always gets pissed when you act like this.’’
When Hange noticed you at the door she took the opportunity and sprinted to the lab leaving a stressed Moblit behind who was still holding a pizza slice in his right hand staring at you in disbelief . Poor man. You placed your work on Hange’s desk and eyed Moblit and then the pizza. You smiled like a cunning, old, hungry dog.
’’I’ll call The Captain for you if you give me two slices of that pizza. Deal?’’ Moblit sighed. ’’Deal.’’
So there you were now, walking out of the building towards your car, while happily munching on your pizza slice. You planned on eating the other one at home, later, if you’d get hungry while working late. You entered your car and threw your stuff on the passenger seat. You started the engine and drove home while listening to the radio. Weirdly enough there was a radio podcast about astrology. You found it weird because this type of podcast would usually be broadcast in the morning. When you heard your zodiac sign being mentioned you couldn’t help but pay a little attention. You were curious afterall and maybe some luck was ahead of you. ’You never know.’
’’As I said John, the (your zodiac) sign should really be careful about what they say and do...The ruler of divine punishment, Jupiter seems to have entered a rare conjunction. The past is catching up to them and it looks like they can’t run away from certain confrontations anymore. It could be with someone else or maybe with themselves. Also, it would be especially good to avoid Fire Signs around this time for (your zodiac), as all three, Aries, Leo and Sagittarius are chaos bringers in this Jupiter conjunction. So you heard me? Don’t try to dig into anything too much these days...You might just bury yourself.’’
You started laughing.
’’Pfft, yeah right... What a load of crap.’’ you said displeased as you turn off the radio.
You finally reach home. After you park and lock your car you enter your apartment building and as always you take the elevator, too lazy to drag your tired body on the stairs. You only think about soaking yourself in a warm bath as soon as possible. You might even use the new bubble bath stuff you got last week. ’Yeah, I think I will do just that. My body aches everywhere anyway, I need some relaxation.’
So immediately after you unlocked your door, you dropped your stuff, and went straight to the bathroom to turn on the warm water. Hell, you might’ve even skipped on the way as you were so happy to finally just have a moment of forgetting everything about anything and just indulge in the warmth and the nice smell of a warm bath.
So happy that you didn’t even bother to turn on the light in the living room.
Because if you did, you would have noticed Eren Yeager, sitting on your couch with a gun by his side.
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Preview:
You looked at Eren. You looked at the gun. You looked at the gun. You looked at Eren.
There were many things you wanted to say in that moment but strangely enough a rather unusual question was bothering you more than anything.
’’You never mentioned your birthday,’’ you said not believing you were actually asking this out of all things, ’’not that you forgot to mention things like your name or the fact that you’re right now, probably the most wanted criminal in the...world ...ha ha ....but who keeps track, am I right?’’ you laughed nervously.
’’My birthday..?’’ he asked while watching you suspiciously but calm at the same time. ’’Why?’’
You kept your distance. Your position was stiff and you couldn’t help but be surprised that he was right in front of you. In your house ...again...in less than 24h. Why in Isayama’s name was he here?
’’Nothing important really...Just something silly.’’ again, you let out a nervous laugh. You were in trouble and you didn’t have your fucking gun on you and your phone was in the bag.
Eren let out a sigh and shook his head.
’’Hm, shouldn’t you, miss profiler, know that about me already?’’ He placed his hands behind his head and leaned deeper on one of the back pillows. His position was relaxed but something told you to not risk going for the gun. It might even be a trap anyway.
’’March, 30.’’ he surprisingly answered after a short silence.
‘March...Weren’t Pisces in March? Nah, this man ain’t no Pisces...Too unhinged...What’s next...Oh.’ you closed your eyes in frustration, ’... Aries.’
’’Great, freaking Fire Sign. Of course you are.'’
You weren’t sure if you should listen to that type of radio podcast more often or 
never again.
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when you find out your signs are not the greatest match ever 
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taliaromanovaswife · 3 years
Text
Exothermic - SFW version
Summary: Meet the original character, plagued by amnesia after an accident. But what if a certain deadly assassin is the cure for that?
The sound of her own, slow footsteps was her only companion on this evening's stroll through the sterile, clean corridors. Though barely audible, the noise was almost deafening to her and yet it did not manage to stop her mind from reeling. Nothing around her seemed familiar, starting with her room and ending with the smell of the hallways. There was absolutely nothing that managed to jog her memory so far, and it irked her. Apparently, she was a member of the greatest team of heroes that walked the Earth, but every time she looked into their faces, her brain could not connect the dots. And worst of all, every Avenger had told her that they were not allowed to help her; that her amnesia had to fade on its own terms and that telling her the truth could make it worse in the end. So, here she was. Eight weeks after an accident where she had been thrown through a window on the first floor, discharged from the hospital because her wounds were healing nicely, yet she still did not remember anything from her past. Nothing, except for her name, age and powers, but even that information was given to her.
Alexandra, twenty-five, defender and healer – whatever that was supposed to mean.
Pressing her palms against her temple, she scoffed and rolled her eyes at herself. Nothing happened, just like nothing had happened since the day she regained consciousness. She had no clue how her powers actually worked, but if she was a healer, then why was she unable to heal her own brain? “You're so stupid”, she cried out, banging the balls of her hands against her already aching head. “Why can't you work? I just want to know who the fuck I am?!”
She rounded another corner, walking past half a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows when she stopped dead in her tracks. Something in the corner of her eye had caught her attention, something she was unsure had been there before. Nevertheless, it was something that spoke to her and for the first time in weeks, she felt a sense of familiarity warming up her insides.
Taking a chance, the tall blonde tried the door handle, happy to find it unlocked. After light brown eyes had scanned the area to make sure that she was alone, tentative feet slipped through a small gap, still wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her now. She had been walking these halls since she was brought home, but had never noticed a piano up here, or anywhere for that matter. Not even downstairs in the bar. ‘Too expensive’, the man who introduced himself as Tony Stark had said when she had asked. ‘The last one got destroyed by Ultron’, a muscular, tall, blond guy had added before receiving death glares from the rest of the group. Alexandra had no idea who Ultron was. How could she, if she was still unable to put the pieces of her own past back together? And what about her present? Did she even go by her full first name or did she prefer it was shortened to Alex? Or even Lexi? Did she like being an Avenger? How strong was her power, how strong was she? She did not know and they did not tell her. But she felt drawn to the piano, as if it was calling out for her and that feeling eased some of her frustration.
Carefully lifting the fall board and locking it in an upright position, shaky fingers pressed down a combination of keys that her brain did not remember, but her muscles certainly did. Muscle memory, she sighed. How could she remember this but not even the bare minimum of her life? Her most important muscle was not working the way it should. Slender hands pulled the matching black piano bench out from under the instrument and she sat down, her fingers gliding over the keys like second nature as her feet hit the pedals.
Suddenly, her mind flashed to a different time. A different piano was in front of her and perfectly manicured short, red-painted fingernails produced a tune she could not hear. But if Alexandra had to guess, she was reliving a tiny bit of her memory. Maybe, hopefully, this was the pivotal ingredient that she had been missing.
Closing her eyes, she allowed her fingers to work the way they knew how to, her vision not providing much help anyway. And as the melody filled the air and cautious fingertips became more confident of their skill, so did her feet. Alexandra was no expert in how muscle memory actually worked, but she could not explain what was happening right now any other way. Her mind drew blank on the names of the songs that she brought to life, and yet, somehow her brain knew what belonged together and when she transitioned to a new melody. So she kept playing, kept her eyes shut tight and let her emotions rage freely like a wildfire.
Alexandra was so lost in her creations, she did not register the other person entering the room, nor did she feel their presence. Her upper body leaned into the music, swayed with every crescendo and diminuendo. The music consumed her entire system, every nerve ending was accommodating to her trance as the cells in her brain sprang into action. Still, her fingers danced over black and white keys in the most beautiful pattern she had ever heard.
Natasha Romanoff was utterly captivated by the sight before her eyes, as mesmerizing and enthralling as ever. From the moment she had stepped into the room, she stood still and quiet, simply listening to the melody with a sad smile on her face. There was something magical about the way that Alexandra commanded the keys under the pads of her fingers and she was glad she had suggested buying a piano for the younger woman. It was minutes later that she slipped her ballet shoes on and tied the ribbons around her ankles, green eyes never leaving the figure behind the piano. Even as she pulled her red hair into a neat bun – years of practice making the need for a mirror unnecessary – her gaze was fixed on the musician, waiting. The assassin had noticed the slight change in the other hero's posture, the deeper breaths and the parted lips. She knew what was coming, long before Alexandra herself had figured it out.
Words formed in her head. If one were to ask her, Alexandra would say she did not know where they came from, her brain not remembering the song. But her heart did, even if it did not understand the meaning just yet. “Dancing around in the rain again.”, she sang, finding the lyrics to the accords she played. Her voice was soft and quiet, trembling with insecurity at first. 'Cause you said that I was my only friend. Playing with the flowers that I picked myself. Because I know they won't come from anybody else. Wrap myself up to warm my hands. From the biting ice that you made them stand.”
As her favorite voice filled the room, velvety and clear, Natasha began to stretch her tired muscles. Last week's mission had been tough on all of them, and the ache from multiple hits and countless falls still lingered in her bones. It could have been worse, but it also could have gone a lot smoother and with less injuries. Still, there was no pain that could stop her from being here, from dancing to Alexandra’s song. Not her bruised ribs and most definitely not her bandaged wrist – just a sprain, she told everybody.
Tears began to form behind her closed eyes. How could she remember songs but not her life? What kind of sick and twisted condition was this retrograde amnesia and why would it not let go of her? And while her fingers moved across the keys without any mistakes, and her feet operated the pedals below them, the first tears spilled down her cheeks. She just wanted to remember. “I'm still moving cities and I'm still causing storms. I don't know if you know this. But when I shoot I score. Took this pain inside of me, turned it into gold. I made this exothermic. Now watch my heart explode.”
Natasha's heart broke for the person, as it did every day since the accident. She had thought that the first few days had been the hardest, when no doctor was giving a clear statement whether or not she would wake from the coma. Then, when Alexandra did wake up but did not know who she was, did not recognize her, the agent's entire world fell apart. Adjustments had been made before the young Avenger had been released from the hospital, hushed conversations that would make everybody feel left out had become the norm around the blonde hero. But every look into Alexandra's sad eyes chipped away at the – usually put-together – assassin. Natasha shook those thoughts from her head as she carefully pushed herself onto her tip toes and raised her arms above her head, extending her index finger and pinkie into perfect position. Out of everything she had been trained in on her way to become one of the deadliest assassins in Russian history, ballet had always been her favorite and to this day, she still used dancing as a stress reliever.
Brown, teary eyes fluttered open and the music abruptly stopped. Her fingers halted over the keys, her mouth remained agape as she stared at the woman who was introduced to her as Natasha Romanoff. She thought she was alone, but there stood the beautiful Russian, dressed in tight black leggings, a matching form-fitting black bodice and a white silken skirt. “I’m-“ She pulled her fingers in, forming fists that slowly clenched and unclenched with every passing second, her heart rate speeding up to the same rhythm. Nervously chewing on her own bottom lip, she stared at her own hands and then back at the other woman. “Was I not supposed to be in here?”, she asked anxiously, Natasha’s intense green eyes seemingly staring right into her soul.
“Please don’t be scared”, the assassin replied. “This is your home, you can be in every room you want to be in, use everything you want or need.” Graciously lowering herself back onto her entire feet and resting her hands on her hips, the redhead tried reassuring her. “You should feel at home here.”
The words were mumbled, but Alexandra still caught it and scoffed. “And yet, everybody stops talking when I walk into a room”, the woman shot back, smoothing her palms over the long, honey-blonde braid and sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy being me right now, whoever I am. But you did not deserve this.” Everybody around here had been nothing but amazing towards her, despite her condition. Sure, their conversations stopped or changed, but that did not mean that she was not included in whatever topic followed after. “I can go, if you want to-“
“Please don’t”, Nat said in a haste, stopping herself before she could say the name that lingered on the tip of her tongue. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that Alexandra’s memory was yet to come back. “Would you play for me?”, she asked quietly, her lips curling into a smile. “Your song was very beautiful and I would like to dance to it.”
The blonde eyed the assassin apprehensively. Was this a regular occasion? Did she used to sing for other people? “Damn it, you stupid brain”, she cursed under her breath, eliciting a light chuckle from Natasha. Thinking about the request for a moment, she finally agreed. “Only if I am allowed to watch you dance.”
“Always”, the redhead smiled, her body protesting slightly as she pushed herself into the releve pose. She steadied herself before finding Alexandra's eyes. “Ready when you are.”
As if nothing had stopped her in the first place, expert finger tips roamed over the keys, picking up where they had left off. Once again, the melody resonated in the air, but this time, Alexandra only had eyes for the gorgeous woman dancing for her. Every part of Natasha’s body appeared to be in sync with her music and somehow the blonde knew that this was not the first time she had twirled to this particular song. “Dancing around in the dark again. But I'm happier now than I ever was then. Feel my heart as it is ablaze. Making room for another in these better days. Days, days.” Forcefully pressing the keys into the instrument as the music became louder and more spirited, brown eyes followed Natasha’s every motion doing the same. She did not notice the two figures standing on the other side of the glass, staring and smiling at her.
Wanda sighed in content, listening to the sound of Alexandra's beautiful voice. She and Natasha always begged the young hero to sing for them, or at least play one of her favorite compositions for them. It helped with the stress after a long day of work. It eased their minds and both women knew that the same applied to Alexandra. “Do you think this will help her?”, the witch asked aloud, her Sokovian accent less prominent now that she was spending most of her time around Americans. Cocking her head to the left but never averting her eyes, she added, “Natasha could use a sliver of good news.”
Arms crossed over his chest, Steve observed as one of his oldest friends danced. He let out a long breath. “I really hope so. I don't know how long Nat can keep going like this. It's ripping her apart.” The super soldier truly admired the redhead for still walking tall. He was not sure he could do the same. “If this doesn't work, then I don't know what could, besides telling Alex the truth. And the doctor's strictly recommended not to do that. But-”
“But at this rate, our most deadliest and finest assassin is no use on missions”, Wanda finished his sentence with a soft nod while watching the Black Widow dance with an elegance unmatched by anything she had ever seen.
“I'm still moving cities and I'm still causing storms. I don't know if you know this. But when I shoot I score. Took this pain inside of me, turned it into gold. I made this exothermic. Now watch my heart explode.” Alexandra's vocal cords vibrated deep within her throat as her voice reverberated with every word she sang. Louder and louder. The keys molded to her every tap and she had to focus on keeping her eyes open. She never let Natasha out of sight, but as the song went on, it was harder and harder not to give in to the music and let her feelings take over. “Oh, watch me exo, o, o, o. Watch me exo burn this. I deserve it, ohh. I deserved this. I deserve it, oh! I deserve this, woah!”
The Russian's feet hit the parquet floor in a faster pattern now, her body spiraling with every pirouette. The position of her hands was immaculate, the satin skirt wafted with every turn and yet, every time she spun around, her eyes locked on Alexandra's. Watching the other woman play with such intensity, like nothing had changed in the past weeks, made her want to cry. But Natasha swallowed her emotions and danced until the blonde stopped playing. She came to a stop, her breathing ragged and the pain from her bruised ribs jabbing into her sides. Still, Nat regretted nothing.
Neither of them said a word or dared to move. The last notes had long since faded away, but they still felt connected through the music. An invisible bond both held onto, fearing that breaking the silence would involuntarily end this moment of peace.
It was Alexandra who moved first, carefully closing the fall board and rising to her feet. “This was nice, we should do this again.” The comment came with a smile. She had not felt this free in weeks and even though her memories did not return – she had hoped they would – the blonde felt a lot better. “Thank you for the dance, Natalia”, she said out of a habit she did not understand. Hearing the sentence, but specifically that name, falling from her own lips caused a chain reaction. She froze on the spot and went stiff as her brain was flooded with millions of memories from her past. Missions and fighting. Loki, Ultron. Iron Man, Thor, Captain America. The Hulk. Clint and Wanda, her brother Pietro. Vision. Her healing a gash on Natasha's temple. Natasha. Everything came back to her, and all at once. And as her brain completed the puzzle, everything began to make sense again. The last image she saw showed Natasha – her Natalia – in a simple white dress and with white flowers in her red, wavy hair as she was waiting for her on the grass behind the Avenger's compound. And then finally, she remembered her full name. Alexandra Romanoff.
Natasha gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. She had waited so long to hear her wife say her name again. No one ever called her Natalia, no one but Alexandra. “Sasha”, she whispered her lover's nickname, eyes filling with tears. With hesitant steps, she closed the gap between them. Soft hands cradled the blonde's face the second she was close enough. “I've missed you so much.” Her lips brushed against a tear-stained cheek, tasting the salt on the tip of her tongue. “Thank you, for coming back to me.”
Gently taking a bandaged hand in her left, Alexandra carefully lowered their limbs. Her wife appeared tough on the outside and would never admit to anyone how much pain she truly was in. But brown eyes saw right through the facade. It had been those very same eyes that had torn down Natasha's walls, stone for stone, when they had started dating all those years ago. A mellow light radiated from her, encasing both women in the warmest, white gleam. Her powers searched for every single one of Nat’s injuries, healing them one after the other. “I will always come back to you, моя любовь. Always”, she promised.
Just as she leaned in for a kiss, Natasha saw the two people outside of the room move slightly – of course her trained senses had picked up on their presence earlier, but she had chosen to ignore them. “FRIDAY? Please close the blinds”, she asked the Artificial Intelligence in her sweetest voice. A swoosh sounded through the room as the shades dropped from the ceiling almost all the way down to the floor, effectively blocking every curious onlooker. “Now we are alone.” Her voice was husky now, even lower than the usual rasp that was just so distinctively hers. “You didn't notice?”
Alexandra shook her head. “I was watching you.” Pale cheeks blushed a dark shade of red when their lips were mere millimeters apart, their foreheads touching. She chuckled. “Even when my brain was all chaotic and weird, I could not stop looking at you.” Nudging her partner's nose with her own, she inhaled Natasha's perfume. “I'm sorry it took me so long.”
The motion was barely visible as the red-haired woman shook her head. “It doesn't matter”, she whispered softly, stroking a few loose curls out of Alexandra's face and behind her ear. “What matters is that you remember now.” Finally pressing her lips against her wife's, she was immediately engulfed by the familiar warmth and love she had for the other woman. God, how much she had missed her.
Pale hands rested on either side of a slender hip, thumbs stroking the bone over the soft material of the dancer's outfit. The cutest little moans escaped her throat. This was what coming home felt like. Natasha was home. One of her hands slid lower, fingers fanning out over a firm bottom cheek as she smiled into the kiss. Tears of happiness ran down her cheeks.
“Don't cry, Милый”, Natasha whispered, wiping her lover's tears away with a gentle brush of her knuckles. “Please, don't cry.”
Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, the blonde reconnected their lips. A dire need to be as close as possible to her wife was all she experienced in this moment. “Happy tears”, Alexandra assured between kisses, pulling the assassin even closer into her body. She relished in these moments, remembering how the redhead never let her guard down around anybody but her. It made every moment of intimacy even more special. “I love you.”
Her wife's breathless confession caused her heart to pound even faster in her chest. “I love you, too.” Strong hands moved to her lover's behind, cupping a cheek in each of them to hoist her up. She felt legs wrap around her waist as a squeal left Alexandra's mouth, followed by the most precious giggles. Natasha had to crane her neck now, due to the change in height, but it had always been one of her favorite things to do. “I love you so much.” A couple of quick steps later, a slim back collided with the wall behind the piano.
The kiss grew more heated, tongues danced to an unsung melody. Their hearts beat in sync, wanton lust overtaking both women. It took all of her willpower, but when she felt full lips suck on her neck, Alexandra let out a frustrated groan. She knew she had to put a stop to this for now. “I think we have a more suitable... room for this, Natalia”, she moaned, her voice dripping with desire. “Our room.”
Natasha hated to admit it, but her wife had a point. Their reconnecting deserved more than a quickie in the newly appointed music room. She pressed their lips together in one last heated kiss before carefully lowering the blonde back onto her feet. Both inhaled deeply to regain some composure and smoothed over their clothes. “Ready?”, she asked, reaching out her hand for Alexandra to take, her other one holding her sneakers and sweater that she had picked off the floor.
Fingers intertwined, they exited the room with mischievous grins tugging on their lips as they walked past Wanda and Steve who were engaged in a conversation in the middle of the hallway. But the couple did not pay any attention to them anyway, too absorbed in each other's presence. Throughout the entire way to their room, neither spoke a word. Yet, the silence was not uncomfortable.
“Everything is still as I remember it”, Alexandra spoke when she entered their suite and took a look around. “Even my slippers are still where I kicked them off before we had to rush into the mission.” Her leather jacket – a birthday gift from a time when they were engaged – was still draped over one of the chairs. She smiled lovingly at Natasha when she noticed another detail. “I see you've been sleeping in my shirts.” She was not mad about this; she could never be mad about this. Because if the roles had been reversed, the blonde would have done the exact same thing.
Natasha blushed lightly, shutting the door behind them and locking it with a twist. “They kept me sane”, she explained. “Some of them still smelled like you.” And if they did not, she always imagined her wife's unique scent on them. Coming up behind the blonde, the dancer looped her arms around a slim waist. “You are what keeps me grounded, but you were not with me. So this was the next best thing.” The truth was, nothing could ever compare to the real thing. She tightened her embrace. Delicate fingers moved a honey-blonde braid out of the way before soft lips began to caress the back of a creamy neck.
Turning in her wife's arms and instantly missing the touch against her skin, Alexandra nuzzled her nose against her lover's cheek. Her fingers found their way to the hair tie, pulling lightly so red curls could fall onto almost bare shoulders. “I missed the feeling of your hair between my fingers”, she breathed, burying her hands in silken tresses as she claimed crimson lips in a fierce kiss.
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