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swcetnight · 3 years

Text

It’s Definitely You || kth. (m) 4

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.

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: oc has a really… really bad day, rude customers, swearing, degradation, near sexual assault, panic attack, anxiety attack, mention of major character death, description of plane crash (be aware), kissing, making out, brief tongue action, sexual content

→ word count: 9.8k

authors note:

finally!!! we’ve FINALLY a made it to the next chapter of It’s Definitely You… I can not put into words how long this chapter took me, but i’m so beyond grateful that i was able to continue with this story cause we are SO CLOSE to getting the answers we’re looking for!!! i just want to say thank you to everyone who has been so so supportive and loving of this story— it means the absolute world to me that people are enjoying my writing and the story im telling! it’s so rewarding to know that i have people looking forward to the future chapters— almost as excited as i am to write them! thank you. from the bottom of my heart. i hope you enjoy!!

authors thanks:

thank you to everyone who has supported me thus far.. i’m sending all of you love! there was no beta-reader for this chapter, so bear with me if there are any mistakes!

please send in an ask if you like to be added to the tag list !!

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!

It's been an awful day.

No, worse than awful. The moment you walked through the academia cafe's wooden doors, you knew you were doomed.

Usually, evening shift leaders are meant to prepare cold brews, pastries, and, ya know, other necessary necessities for coffee shops. Usually, they help by preparing everything so that it's easier on the openers (aka you and Jimin), especially since they open at such an early time. Much to your dismay, not a single thing was prepped for this morning's shift.

Screw you, closers!

Jimin was absolutely fuming. The human sunshine himself? Yeah, him. He was bursting at the seams, fire and chaos dancing in his usually sweet and softened eyes. The innocence of Jimin seemed to fade away the moment he clocked into an absolute mess of a morning shift, knowing that he, the shift leader, was the one who had to patch it back up. You had helped him as much as you could, but truth be told, it left a damper on the rest of the day.

Everything seemed to go downhill from there.

The cold brew machine broke, a mess of nozzles breaking off the spout, cold brew splattered across previously cleaned surfaces, and the already stressed Jimin doubled in his stress levels. The pastries also had no expiration dates, causing him to contact the manager on a tangent, questioning when said pastries would expire— and telling him that last night's shift leader did absolutely nothing.

You've never heard Jimin talk ill of someone until today.

And when Jimin wasn't happy, no one was happy.

On top of that, he spilled an entire cube of cream across the backroom floor, soaking his backpack and causing the cardboard boxes holding coffee beans to rip and tear. This left Jimin in tears, but you promised him that you would clean it up— not wanting to make things worse for the poor guy. So, there you were, on your hands and knees, cleaning the flooded backroom of creamy hell.

This was not an ideal morning, but you were happy to help keep some of the stress from falling onto Jimin's shoulders.

Oh! And that's not all.

You decided that wearing a white shirt to work was a good idea! Why did you do that, you wonder? Hell knows! All you do know is that the cream accident wasn't the problem; it was the matcha accident soon after when you dropped an open bag of bright green matcha on yourself, leaving behind green stains all over the white surface of your top.

Screw you, matcha!

After spending a solid ten minutes scrubbing most of the green out of your shirt, (and convinced you were also wiping away the last of your sanity), the doors opened, and customers were welcomed into the cafe. You couldn't help but notice their curious eyes dropping down and gazing at your clothing, which is slightly clouded with a green tone in a splotchy pattern.

You love your job. You love your job. You love your job.

That's what you're currently chanting to yourself as you sit in the backroom, eyes watery and breathing labored while your heavy head sits in your hands. You had decided to take a break after spilling hot coffee on a customer, who ended up cussing you out before leaving in a tizzy. You hated letting people down—even customers who were ungrateful and snarky.

You bow your head, closing your eyes in an attempt to empty your mind.

Everything's okay. It's fine.

You try to comfort yourself, reminding your anxiety-filled brain that you have a West End opportunity coming up and that it won't be long till you leave this barista job behind. No more angry customers. There would be no more splotched green clothing, unless it was the green paint for Elphaba's appearance in Wicked The Musical.

It's not that you want to leave the cafe, but you are hoping for a change. And to pursue what you truly wanted to. Being able to avoid awful days like these was just the cherry on top.

The idea of theatre works like a charm. Your heart rate slows, and breathing regains its composure. For a moment, your head empties as you lay it against the wall behind you. You wish this feeling would remain until the end of your shift, but, unfortunately for you, it doesn't last long.

The second you feel like you're ready to get back out there, lifting yourself from your "backroom corner of sadness" and making your way to the cafe floor, Taehyung is standing at the front register. Suddenly, all that pressure comes racing back and seeps through every part of your body, deep down into the tiniest crevices and leaving you a mess.

What is he doing here?

Should you take his order?

Maybe you should wait a little longer and let Jimin handle it?

When he looks up from his phone, probably in an attempt to see who would assist him, his eyes meet yours. It feels like your heart fully stops, hands clammy as you wipe them on your apron, begging for Jimin to come to your aid. Alas, Jimin is making a frappuccino on the bar farthest from the register. You're thankful when you see Olivia, one of your other co-workers, make her way to the counter, greeting Taehyung and taking his order so that you don't have to.

You know you're a coward. You know that you should talk to him, especially since he's standing right in front of you with a neon "perfect opportunity" sign shining brightly above his head. And no matter how badly your heart wants to, your cowardice is the barricade in the way of its pursuit.

Taehyung isn't looking at you anymore but looking at the menu overhead— another "perfect opportunity" for you to sneak past Olivia, avoid his gaze, and make it to the bar unscathed. Luckily for you, Taehyung doesn't say anything other than his order.

When he finally strolls back to his small table in the corner, his cookie dough latte is in hand (courtesy of Jimin because you were too scared to make it-- assuming that you'll mess it up and embarrass yourself). Still, despite not having the courage to talk to him, you can't help but find yourself staring.

The last time you saw him was when you kissed him in your dream. When he had his warm arms around you, enveloping you in his gentle hold. They are now covered by a grey sweatshirt which keeps your eyes from wandering along the muscle beneath. The last time you saw him was when he kissed you and said he loved you. Taehyung loves you. Well, at least in your dream. But, God, how you wish it were real.

Instead, you're faced with the true reality: Taehyung's usually comforting eyes cast away from your own and a brick wall placed between the two of you, just waiting to be smashed down.

And it's all your fault.

"You're staring." Jimin coos from beside you, giving you a nudge with his arm. You offer him a glare that could pierce through the aforementioned brick wall, clearing your throat as you reach for the next order ticket. Jimin exhales in dissatisfaction, "You should just talk to him already."

"Wasn't that your job?" You question, remembering back to when Taehyung had asked to see Jimin last week. For the "project." A part of you believes that his need to vent was not regarding the theatre article. It was regarding you.

"Yes. It's my job to tell you that you should talk to him. This has gone on long enough, and no matter how much I loooove being a middleman to you, this is just getting ridiculous," Jimin states, his voice laced with the sound of sarcasm and exhaustion… You make a mental note to call him later and tell him how much you appreciate him. He's shaking his head as he finishes off another latte with the art of a flower, a creamy design atop the light brown surface.

It would be best if you still asked Jimin for latte art lessons, too.

Jimin continues, "Anyway… you should. He probably wants to talk it out just like you do."

You glance back over to Taehyung, whose head is now resting on his palm, looking over what you would assume to be notes for his project. You take a moment to appreciate his solitude, running your eyes across his loose black sweatpants and grey sweatshirt. You've never seen him this home-like before— but you're not complaining. Not in the slightest.

Even though he's looking at the paper, his eyes seem out of focus — what was he thinking about?

"Am I gonna get some help here, or should I leave?" A rough voice snaps, drawing your attention to the front register where a semi-tall man stands with an unsatisfied expression on his face. You take in a short breath, apologizing profusely as you scurry over to the register and eagerly ask for the man's order.

"Shouldn't you be doing your job?" The man continues, unamused, his voice spitting fire across the register and straight into your nerve endings. You pause, glancing up at him and wondering if you heard him correctly. Who the hell was this guy? He's removing his credit card from the back of his phone when he barks out his order. "A four-shot americano. Just black. Got it?"

You nod slowly, heart rate spiking at the man's tone of voice before you glance back down at the register screen. Usually, rude customers don't bother you all that much… but today, after everything that has happened earlier in the morning, you can't help but feel the stinging at the back of your eyes sooner than you expected. You were already close to crying before, but now it's as if it's going to spill out at any moment.

Don't cry. Don't.

You steal a shaky breath, tapping his order onto the register screen.

The man chuckles in an irritated manner. "Do you even speak?"

"Sorry… I uh— Uhm," you clear your throat anxiously, "is there anything else I can get for you today?"

The man bends down slightly, resting his hands on the counter with a sardonic grin glued to his face. You've never felt so uncomfortable in your life. His eyes pan over your name tag that sits on your apron. "Y/n."

Hearing your name formed on his lips makes you even more uncomfortable, which you thought was impossible. Apparently, you were wrong.

"I'll get started on your Americano… It'll be three thirty-nine." You say quietly, motioning for him to pay as you step over to the bar in hopes of getting as far from him as you can. Your hand shakes as you pick up the cup, pulling shots and placing it down below the espresso machine. Looking to the side, you spot Jimin talking to a customer about their order, totally unaware of the situation at hand.

"Make it extra good for me, yeah?" The man says, almost seductively, ignoring his card in the chip reader and focusing his attention on you.

You give him a nod, throat constricted with anxiety as you attempt to calm your shaking hands, spilling the tiniest bit of an espresso shot down the side of the cup. You tend to it quickly, wiping the trail of brown with a rag before drying your hands on your apron. You're thanking your bar skills, having been able to finish it quickly, before you're handing it to the man who is still grinning in your direction.

"Here you go, sir… Have a great day." You paint a smile on your face, which is smeared at the corners of your lips, unable to hide your ever-growing discomfort.

It's the moment you turn to walk towards Jimin that he speaks up again, voice deeper than before.

"Did you put in four shots?" He challenges, staring down at the cup in his calloused hands with a disgusted expression.

"Yes, sir." You respond.

"Then why does it look like you missed it?" He utters, turning it in his hold and showing you a line of espresso falling down the side. You missed a spot. Usually, it wasn't a big deal, but you can feel your heart drop to the floor.

"I paid for four shots. Is this a joke to you?" His voice grows louder word by word, echoing in your ears as your voice wavers in response.

"I'm.. I'm really sorry— I can remake it for you if you'd—"

"I'm going to be fucking late." He sneers, pushing the coffee cup forcefully in your direction before he leans across the counter. His eyes rake you up and down, and you swear you stop breathing. "You should make this up to me in a different way, yeah?"

You can't think straight. This was the first time in your life where you actually felt fearful of losing it. The man is staring at you, every inch of him screaming what your mother always warned you about: "stranger danger." A smirk returns to his face before you hear Jimin's footsteps behind you.

"Excuse me-"Jimin starts, voice strained in frustration, but before he can say another word, Taehyung is beside the man with his hand gripped onto his arm.

"I think it's time for you to leave," Taehyung says, voice low and eyes laced with disgust as he turns the asshole in his direction. Taehyung, although his build isn't as buff as the poor excuse for a man before him, he's still taller than him— and every part of you hopes that this guy would be intimidated. Taehyung hands the drink back to the customer, his stare unwavering. "It's four shots. So take it and leave."

The man scoffs, backing up from the counter with disbelief written on every inch of his face. "Who the hell are you?"

You look at Taehyung, whose hand is balled in a fist as he removes the customer's card from the reader with the other, holding it up to glance at the name. He looks absolutely livid, though his voice is controlled when he speaks. "Jared Stone, is it?"

The man stumbles forward to snatch his card quickly, eyes boring into Taehyungs.

"I'm a journalist." Taehyung continues, calmly, "And unless you want your name written in the newspaper, I'd suggest you leave before I pick up my pen."

You can tell that this "Jared" is starting to falter, believing Taehyung's slight fib, his arms lowering a bit as Taehyung glares at him with the most intense look you've seen on his beautiful face. Taehyung is usually all smiles-- kind eyes with a gentle tone. Like soft snowfall. His surface of genuity hides his ability to be cold and direct. Now, he's anything but soft. His hand is still sporting a fist, and he jerks his head in the direction of the door, coaxing Jared to leave the cafe as soon as possible.

"Fucking asshole," Jared mumbles under his breath, clocking Taehyung in the shoulder with force as he makes his way to the door, throwing his Americano down and splattering hot coffee along the tiled flooring. Customers gasp quietly as he bangs the door open, disappearing amidst the crowd outdoors as you struggle to catch your breath.

What the hell just happened?

"Are you okay?"

You glance back at Taehyung, his dark yet soft eyes studying your face as he once-overs your appearance.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" Now his voice is wavering; the cold lace in his voice is gone and replaced with concern. He's staring at you with every ounce of that concern plastered across his face. You can't help the flutter of your heart in response to having his attention again… the attention of the one person who has been ignoring your existence the past few weeks. But then again, what have you done to help that? Absolutely nothing.

Maybe that's why he looks away once you confirm that you're alright. Maybe that's why he gives you a nod and a "good" before making his way back to his table, albeit a little timidly. Maybe that's why he doesn't question you further and leaves you standing at the counter like a lost puppy, hopeful for the return of the one who loves you most.

When he said he loved you? That was a dream.

You can feel your lower lip quivering as you turn and rush to the back room, Americano frenzy left in your wake as you curl into yourself in the corner. You'll clean it up in a moment.

You know this is just a bad day out of many-- but it feels like everything has been going wrong. What you wanted most at this moment was the same touch of the man who haunts your dreams. You wish he would hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. And the one thing that used to be steady and solid was Taehyung's friendship. Now, even that is ruined.

You make a mental note to speak to him as soon as possible… but you feel way too small right now to even dream of being confrontational.

Maybe that's why you end up crying in the back room, alone, back to your "backroom corner of sadness" with smears of green atop your shirt and spilled coffee on your hands.

You're dreaming again.

It wouldn't take much convincing to know this fact, especially since this dream seems to pick up from the exact spot that your airport dream left off. It was the same lights that shone overhead like a glowing halo, the same aching yet excited feeling in your chest, the same brown backpack carry-on you're currently throwing over your shoulder. You definitely didn't pack light, even for your carry-on, so you can't imagine how heavy your actual luggage is.

How did you even pass luggage check-in?

—

Your thoughts wisp away as soon as the dream jumps to you sitting in your seat, evident from the low whirring of the engine and the uncomfortable leather seat you're sitting in. You've never been a huge fan of planes, since your parents thought it was a good idea to watch "Lost" in front of you right before one of the bumpiest plane rides of your entire life. Ever since that day, you've always been nerve-wracked while flying.

If Taehyung were here, it would probably be easier.

You knew that he wanted to come. You knew that he wanted to be your support system in person, especially during this time of excitement — but he had work and projects, and you had promised him that you'd survive a mere month without his hand to hold. You'd claimed that he would be your "virtual" hand, that you would think of him whenever things got tough, or you felt like you couldn't keep going. After all, he was only a call away.

He had said that he was grateful for this fact. And to stay safe. So, you plan to.

You're too busy admiring the blue sky above, clouds dancing, and creating shapes that only an artist's mind could see. You can see rabbits and dragons hidden within the layers of fog that make up the clouds. You're far too distracted to notice an old woman seating herself beside you. It's when she speaks that you finally fix your attention toward her.

"Is this seat taken?" The old woman smiles. She has light grey hair, kind eyes, and wrinkles that define her age to be over 60 at least. Despite this, she looks youthful and friendly, which makes your nerves feel lighter.

"No, it's all yours!" You return said smile, nodding to her as she places her carry-on beneath her feet. It's an embroidered floral bag; pink flowers cross in zig zags atop the brown surface.

"Where are you headed?" She questions, setting her wrinkly hands on her lap.

You smile gleefully. "I'm going to London, actually!" You can't help but laugh at the old woman's shocked expression.

"Wow! That's quite the plane ride you have ahead of you! It'll be worth it once you're there, though." She seems genuinely excited for you, unabashedly clapping her hands and heightening your excitement even more. You offer her thanks before resuming your study of clouds.

—

You wish you could control this dream, just to bask in the excitement for a little bit longer— but time skips abruptly to the takeoff, engine revving like a loud roar from a lion as it gains speed down the runway. For a moment, your heart palpitates, nerves returning full-fledged. Take off and landing is your least favorite part of flying, fearing the worst.

Within seconds, you feel a warm hand placed on yours. The old woman is smiling kindly at you, rubbing your skin gently in a nurturing way before she looks at you fondly.

"My husband was afraid of flying." She says, squeezing your hand before she resumes looking forward.

"Really?" You question.

"So much so that he used to grip my hand like a stress ball, absolutely crushed my fingers." The two of you laugh, a fond smile playing at her lips, which deepens the wrinkles on either side and makes her smile appear even larger.

"How did he get over it?" You ask, distracting yourself from the upward tilting of the plane that's finally taking its flight. A metal bird on solid wings that you have to keep reminding yourself of its purpose: to fly, not to fall.

"He just held onto me." She shrugs. "He passed away a few years ago, but we used to face all of our fears together. He said that I always made him feel safe enough to face anything."

"He must've been brave. I would have still been terrified." You laugh quietly, holding your breath as the plane finally takes its flight and dips the slightest bit.

She's smiling and laughing in response, a warmth of admiration crossing her features. "I don't think so; he was absolutely shaking."

"Poor guy, he must really love you to face that fear." You respond, finally calming down when you see that the plane has reached high enough without any issues. It allows you to reach down and grab a piece of gum from your bag, which you assume would make the popping of your ears cease.

"He did."

You smile fondly as you pop said piece of gum into your mouth, mint exploding across your tongue. The old woman and her husband remind you a lot of your relationship with Taehyung. He's your safety net, who made you feel as if you could achieve anything.

You loved him.

"Remember," the old woman starts, "tell your loved ones that you love them. You never know how long you have with them."

Your smile fades then, seeing her eyes slowly churn with gratitude, yet she can't hide the fact that she so obviously misses her husband.

"I'm so sorry for your loss.." You whisper, solemnly smiling towards the woman beside you.

"It's okay…" She pats your hand. "We'll be reunited soon enough."

—

Cell Phone Reminder Added:

Tell Taehyung you love him when you land.

—

Another time jump, and this time you can feel the turbulence jostling you within your seat, adding shock to your already fearful state. Your hands are still holding the old woman's hand, and tears are pricking at the back of your eyes like a prodding needle. You've been silently telling yourself that you're going to be okay for the past fifteen minutes, and yet every moment spent on this plane sends you into fifteen different stages of fight or flight mode. Mostly flight mode. You could probably fly this plane better than the pilots.

The loudspeaker crackles.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some weather changes. Please keep your seatbelts fastened in the meantime, and we'll be through it soon."

You wish you could say that the announcement eases your nerves, but the second bump of turbulence sends you nearly flying out of your seat, hushed whispers filling the nerve-riddled cabin. Obviously, you weren't the only one within this aircraft that was nervous. You can feel the old woman squeezing your hand again, but even she can't hide the look of terror upon her face.

Another intense jump of the aircraft sends your eyes squeezing shut, legs holding you still by the seat in front of you. You're confident that the passenger seated there is probably too distracted by the turbulence to be annoyed with your childish antics of seat kicking.

Another crackle of the loudspeaker nearly makes your racing heart stop beating.

"Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm… Fasten your seatbelts, prepare for turbulence and please remain calm…"

The message is repeating like a chant.

Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder and spark of lightning sends the lights of the cabin flickering once, twice, then completely turning off, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. A sudden lurch downwards has you yelping, searching out the window for a sign of safety, but you're met with near darkness from the thunderous clouds around you, which block any form of vision.

The cabin is loud now. Cries and shouts are heard around you as you cover your ears in an attempt to regain control of your fear.

You'll be okay. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe…

Another plummet downwards forces the tears out of your eyes, a muffled scream filling your hands when your stomach jumps up and into your throat. Within seconds, the oxygen masks from above come falling down, and it takes you merely another second to reach for two of them, helping the old woman who is frozen in shock beside you to get her mask on before putting on your own.

You suddenly hear a piercing voice over the loudspeaker, which is crackling even more intensely than before. You hate that loudspeaker more by the second.

"Please prepare for impact."

That's when the screams of neighboring passengers start. A baby wailing in the back of the cabin has the tears pouring quickly down your cheeks. You can't think. You can't see. You wish you could turn on your phone and call Taehyung, but the repetitive swooping downward of the plane knocks you of your senses.

All you can do is remember the smile on his face while waving you goodbye. The loving eyes of a man who loves you. His soft hair flowing as he does a happy dance before you disappear around the corner-- a large smile present on his lips as he continuously sends finger hearts your way.

You wish you could tell him you love him too.

You pray that you will see him again…

It's when you finally underpass the clouds and see the ground quickly coming closer and closer that you stop crying, absolute terror freezing your body, and an immediate wash of acceptance overtaking you. The ground is coming on fast.

This is it.

It seems that every second that passes, another giant swoop of the aircraft takes its ascent. A single tear falls down your cheek when you're merely ten feet away in the plummeting plane.

The last words from your mouth are sincere and quiet:

"I love you, Tae."

A roar rumbles in your ears. You can feel an initial strike of pain from the ground's impact, muffled screams filling your ears, and then…

You jolt upright, a loud shriek escaping your lips as you grasp for any form of life that you can. This form of life happens to be your Phantom Of The Opera blanket, which you tug upwards while frantically scooting back towards your headboard. You can feel the sweat sticking to the polar bear pajamas that hug your legs, clinging to the material and making you feel even more claustrophobic than you already are. Your eyes are blurry, breathing heavy, and your heart is running a mile a minute.

For a moment, you think you're still on that plane. That you're hitting the ground with force and praying to stay alive.

It's only when your surroundings settle in; your warm yet sweat-covered bed sheets, wooden bedside table that is littered with pictures of you and your friends, and the low rumble of a storm outside; only then are you able to catch your breath.

Only then do the tears come crashing down, a tsunami of racing beats of your heart, and the teardrops that fall against your t-shirt.

It felt so real.

And yet it wasn't, you remind yourself, raising your teary eyes to see the "Wicked The Musical" poster that hangs like a trophy on your wall, flashes of lightning brightening the shadow of the window against said poster. Despite knowing that it was all a dream, you can't help but feel as if you're still falling. As if you're dead right at this moment and unable to accept that fact.

What if you are?

This thought scares you, the tears falling again as your hands tremble towards your nightstand in search of your phone. Once found, It's a quick venture for your contacts before you're pressing the call button.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

You bite your lip, the ringing on the line endless as if it was mocking you and your will to be alive.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you."

You try again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

No answer.

Again.

Calling Kim Taehyung…

"Please pick up." You whisper, face crumpling at your lack of luck. Taehyung had always been so quick to answer you, but the flashing red of your nightstand alarm clock is reminding you of what time it actually is:

3:00 AM.

"This is Kim Taehyung; sorry I couldn't get to the phone—"

He's probably sleeping, yet you ignore this possibility and attempt to reach him one more time, cutting off the last call and immediately pressing the call button again.

What if you're actually dead? What if this is your life flashing before your eyes? What if—

A tired voice croaks across the line after just a few more rings. "Hello?"

"Taehyung?" You say, your tone panicked and shaking— which is very obvious since his once tired voice is suddenly wide awake when he responds.

"Y/n?" You can hear the rustling of his sheets, probably from him sitting up in alarm. "What's going on, love?"

You don't even register his slip, voice hiccuping from the sobs that are currently racking your throat. If it weren't for your complete lack of brainpower right now, you would probably be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of you. But how could you possibly not cry after a dream like that?

"Where- Where are you?" You question, clinging to your comforter as another round of sobs are released from your constricted throat.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here." His voice gently whispers, rustling continues, and suddenly you can hear his muffled footsteps over the line. "It's okay, talk to me.. what's going on?"

You blubber a bit, unable to form coherent words, but another hush from Taehyung and an "it's okay" helps you to get your words out.

"I had a- a dream. It was a plane crash, Tae." You cry, breathing slowing down ever so slightly. Your mind is still foggy, but you can feel your consciousness slowly coming back. "Where are you?"

There's dead silence on the line, the previous rustling and footsteps coming to a halt. For a moment, you think you lost him.

"Taehyung?" You whisper, another sob threatening your voice.

"Y/n." His tone is suddenly serious. "Stay right there. I'm on my way, okay? Just breathe. I'm coming." You can hear a jingling of what's most likely his keys and the door slamming shut. "I'm coming. Stay there."

"Okay." You sniffle quietly, hearing the line cut off, and you're left in the silence of your room once more. Without Taehyung's voice to distract you, the heart that beats rapidly in your chest seems to intensify its speed. Why had he gotten so serious after you told him what your dream was?

Ignoring this thought, you quickly lean over to turn on your light, which drowns the once darkroom in rich golden color.

You can see the polaroid pictures of you and Taehyung next to the wicked poster. He's smiling that same boxy smile that lights up a room, his eyes watching you pose for the picture. Not once did he look at the camera, you notice— his eyes were constantly on you. As if you could disappear at any moment, so he had to soak up as much as he could.

Although seeing him smile made your aftershock body relax just the tiniest bit more, you can still feel the fear within you.

You can still feel the initial pain of contact from that plummeting aircraft as it hit the earth's surface. It was as if it actually happened.

The scariest part?

A part of you is almost certain that it did.

He arrives quicker than you thought he would, a loud knock on the door disrupting your dazed-out state, which you haven't moved from since he hung up. If someone saw you at this moment, they would probably think you're crazy. Honestly… with how vivid that dream was… you probably are.

It took about five minutes of sitting there in the silence of your room for the regret to start sinking in; regret for forcing Taehyung up and out of bed at three o'clock in the morning when he could be happily asleep right now. But the moment you open the door, all your regrets cease at the sight of him.

He's got an extreme case of bed head, which he's attempting to hide with a beanie, but his hair is still wildly soaring this way and that— which you probably would've laughed at if it weren't for the circumstances. His face is drenched in concern, and a jacket is thrown haphazardly over himself, which seems to be partly off of his figure from what you'd assume was him running. He had to have been, judging by his labored breathing and snow-covered sweatpants that are painted with white up to his knees.

If you were in your right mind, you would probably be beckoning him in by now— but the only thing you can think to do is cry.

And that's exactly what you do.

You swear you see his own features crumple too, but his arms are around you before you can fully comprehend if you were seeing correctly, solid and warm as his embrace melts into you and consoles your beating heart. He rubs the back of your head with his hand, whispering into your ear and reminding you that everything's okay. The breath that fans along the skin of your cheek is warm and gentle, softening your erratic puffs of breath.

Within moments, he's removing his hat, discarding it on the table, and slowly moving you to the couch before seating himself beside you. His arm only leaves your back when you're fully seated, but it's quickly moving in front of you so that he can hold your hand. Constant touch. Constant reassurance. He's so good at calming you despite barely having to do it before… It's like he already knows what to do. Suddenly, he's the same boy from the rooftop—the same warm and comforting expression and the same soft hands that hold your own.

His smooth, deep voice breaks through your sniffling and thoughts. "Can you tell me what happened?"

With a nod, you begin explaining your dream. It might be all in your head, but Taehyung's face continues to grow paler and paler as you tell him the details. A shell shock look overtakes him in a way that makes your skin crawl. Maybe it's because it was such a dark dream; perhaps that's why he reacts the way he does. But it looks as if he had gone through it himself. His eyes are falling everywhere but on you, and his hand is steadfast on your own and gripping onto it like a lifeline.

"Y/n…" He whispers, his dark chocolate eyes resting on your hands— you try to ignore the fact that you notice a swarm of tears pricking his lower lash line. You don't have the right to call him out for expressing emotions, not after begging him to come over at three in the morning.

Still, "it was just a dream," you assure. Stating this seems to calm the last of your own fear, the weight within your chest dissipating to a dull ache-- still present but bearable.

"Yeah." He nods, quickly wiping the tears away and passing it off for brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It was just a dream." And despite this fact that bursts from his lips, you can still hear the fear within his voice. You don't want to question him in hopes that you'll avoid upsetting either one of you further… you've shed enough tears for one night.

Yet when he leans towards you to wrap his arms around you, tears remain tauntingly behind your eyes. His heart is beating rapidly beneath the thin material of his jacket, thundering hooves of a horse at full speed.

It reminds you a lot of your own heartbeat that night on the rooftop. Your heart too was beating fast enough to possibly jump out of your chest, taking you down the stairs and out of his sight before you had the chance to say no. Suddenly, his warm embrace feels cold. You still haven't talked to him about that night.

Talk to him.

You breathe, "Taehyung."

He hums in response, low and gravelly with his evident exhaustion.

"I'm sorry." You confess.

Taehyung removes you from his embrace, turning you towards him. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm here, and everything's okay now. Like you said, it's just a dre-"

"No." You interrupt, breathing deeply to summon up the courage you've never possessed. "I'm sorry for running away that night."

He stays silent for a moment. He's obviously connecting the dots and slowly coming to terms with what your apology was truly meant for. You can't blame him for being confused since you ignored each other for weeks before you called him over at three in the morning because of a silly nightmare. It's when his gentle eyes slowly meet yours that you know he's on the same page. He still doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry for being scared… I've never really experienced something like that, and I just… I ran like a coward." You fiddle with your fingers, the soles of your feet gliding against the carpet beneath them. "I'm not used to having someone in that way. An intimate way, I mean…" Your cheeks flush. "I've never even kissed anyone until that night."

"Y/n." He whispers, drawing your eyes back to his fond expression. He's looking at you in a way that makes your heart churn: soft, warm, understanding, and loving… all of this hidden within the chocolate of his irises. Gentle Taehyung. "I was too forward. That was completely my fault. I felt like I pushed my luck… and I didn't want to come across as overbearing, so I just felt it was better to distance myself. I didn't want to make you feel like you had to do something you didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt you."

His words are like a warm hug around your wavering heart. You didn't really think about how embarrassed he might have felt, giving his heart to you only to have it left on that rooftop in the cold chill of winter.

You know that you have to make it up to him.

There's a pause of silence in the room, deafening your senses… which must be the only reason why you have the confidence to say:

"Kiss me."

Taehyung looks baffled.

Well, it's too late now.

"A do-over." You add.

Taehyung looks torn, yet his eyes are glued to yours. You try to avoid his gaze, even though you were the one who mentioned kissing in the first place.

Finally, he whispers, "Y/n…"

"Kiss me… I promise I won't run." You explain, words nearly catching in the back of your throat from your increasing nerves. You really didn't think this through.

Taehyung's frozen; the color that was once gone from his face when you told him about your dream is now rushing full force back onto his cheeks. It warms your soul. He looks almost like a child but with an intensity that is anything but childlike. You can nearly feel your heart drop into your stomach.

"Are you sure?" He questions, eyes never leaving yours.

You nod. "I'm done being afraid."

And that's all he needs.

He's slow, like the tide on a lazy river, full of gentleness and cautiousness to ensure that you won't fall overboard. That you won't run away.

And you don't.

It feels like years until his lips are placed delicately on your own, as still as a rock but warm and soft to the touch, beckoning you into its heat. Taehyung is testing the waters, moving his lips ever so slightly against yours… as if he was questioning whether or not you truly wanted this. So, in a trance, you slowly move your lips against his in return, parting them and sinking into the motion.

It seems that this was the only way to reassure him, and you must have done something right— seeing as his hand strays from your wrist and works its way up your arm. His touch leaves behind a trail of goosebumps snaking along your skin, his brows cinching as he leans in even closer to you, and finally parts his lips against yours, dipping to capture your lower lip between his.

If you said you weren't inwardly freaking out for a moment there, you would be lying. Not once have you ever kissed anyone like this. But this is Taehyung, and for some reason, after the initial shock, it feels as if you both have kissed dozens of times. It feels right. Good.

His hand is now snaking around your neck, pulling you in even further, which you didn't think was possible. You swear you can feel your heart jump into your throat when a soft moan escapes his lips as he sneaks his tongue along the line of your lips. Not knowing what else to do, you part your lips for his access.

Not once has a boy been able to give you the shivers, and yet here Taehyung is lowering the last of your resolve when his tongue slides into your mouth. Your face turns beet red when a hiccup uncontrollably constricts your throat.

Taehyung stops abruptly, breathing out softly and distancing himself by only a fraction, probably to make sure you're still alive while still being encompassed in your warmth. You're definitely alive. Still, you feel as if you have to pinch yourself to make sure.

A smile sinks onto his lips, and your heart flutters at the low chuckle that meets your ears. He's perfect… in every way. Your heart clenches from pure adoration for the man in front of you. He's all smiles, lips kiss bitten and eyes soft and gentle... Without being able to restrain yourself, you move back towards him and meet his lips once more.

Like a switch, Taehyung responds a bit quicker this time, resuming his tantalizing routine with his tongue within your mouth. His breath is hot, mingling with your own when you stretch your arm up to place your hand within the softness of his wavy hair. You feel as if you're starting to get the hang of this, smiling a bit and tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. You swear, the moment you release your own small sound (that you'll probably be embarrassed thinking about later), Taehyung becomes even more heated. He holds the sides of your face gently as if you're made of glass, but his lips say otherwise as they kiss you roughly.

Taehyung moves with you, laying you down on the couch so that he's hovering over you, carefully moving your legs with one hand to keep them from being crushed. All the same, he's keeping the smallest of distances between the two of you. Once you're fully situated, he finally takes the initiative to lay his weight down as his kiss deepens. You can feel the shock and sizzling heat traveling down to your stomach, making your head spin wildly— and obviously, Taehyung feels it too, judging by the low groan that breaks free from his lips.

"I missed you, Y/N." He breathes between kisses, transferring from your lips to your chin, to the side of your face, all the way over so he can take your earlobe between his teeth which sends shockwaves throughout you. How is he so good at this?

You agree with a hum, another small whimper escaping you as he continues his venture down to your neck.

"I mean it… I missed you so much." He repeats, pausing his movements to meet your lips again with a gentle kiss. He strokes your face with his free hand, the other clasped within yours (which you hadn't even noticed they were intertwined until now). "I miss you."

There's a break in his voice, and the slight tremble of his lower lip is throwing you off. Was he about to cry? A second ago, he was devouring you, and now he sounds like a lost puppy. Bless his soul.

"I'm right here." You whisper, running your hand through his hair to push his bangs out of the way. You want to get a good look at him, make sure he's okay. You ignore the catch in his throat.

"I still miss you." He repeats.

It takes a moment before he shakes his head, laughing with a quiet "sorry" before he sinks back down to kiss you. You don't question him further. In fact, you're too busy freaking out to question him further. You don't know where it came from, but a sudden surge of boldness overtakes you, and you're reaching for the lapels of his jacket, shifting it slightly.

Taehyung doesn't seem to be thrown off and is quick to respond, sitting up to remove it and throw it on the ground beside the couch. He's no longer damp from the sleet outside, but warm beneath.

With another deep kiss and a dip of his hips (which is stealing all the remaining breath out of your lungs), he reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

Just when you're about to move his hands up in an effort to get this shirt off, he pauses. You squirm a little, wanting skin-on-skin contact as soon as possible— but Taehyung is frozen.

"You okay?" You question, heat rushing to your cheeks at the notion that he might be overwhelmed. Maybe he doesn't want this much of you.

You're such an idiot.

You hold your breath. "If you don't…" You begin, eyes running in every direction, "… if you don't want to, that's oka-"

"No, no. No." He shakes his head quickly, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips… yet he still seems hesitant. "That's not it. Believe me. I want to."

You can feel your stomach flutter. He could lift one finger, and he'd have your heart soaring.

"It's just…" He pauses, breathing labored. "I have to tell you something… before this goes any further, there's something you need to know."

"What?" You whisper, eyes wide with concern. "Do you have any diseases?"

He laughs loudly at this, shaking his head which tousles his hair this way and that before he leans down to kiss your forehead. You're confused now… And horny. Not a good mix.

"Taehyung, just tell me already." You punch him playfully, hoping to resume this make-out session you've been waiting for for way too long.

He still seems nervous about continuing, his eyes wavering away from your questioning gaze. Every second he takes for silence is adding more nerves onto your chest… was it that serious?

"When I first met you…" He starts, licking his lower lip (which you've noticed is one of his nerve habits) before he finally meets your eyes. He might be slow-moving and sensual on the outside, but his eyes hold a deep churning of fear that makes the already evident goosebumps on your arms a bit more painful. "When I met you that day at the cafe… That wasn't the first time I met--"

Before he can finish, your phone rings. Blaring loud. You're annoyed for a moment, wondering who the hell was trying to get in touch with you at this specific time, but as soon as you see the name on the phone screen, you nearly pass out.

Hyun Do-yun, Film Out Theatre

Holy shit.

The audition. The video audition you sent for the West End audition.

You gasp loudly, reaching desperately for your phone on the coffee table. Taehyung is still hovering over you with curious eyes-- you would give anything to hear what he was going to say… but this call was way too important.

"Can I… It's a theatre opportunity." You whisper, unable to hide your nerves. Your heart is beating full force, just like it was a second ago when Taehyungs lips were on yours.

He nods quickly, smiling at you while he plays with the ends of your hair, keeping himself busy when you finally pick up the call.

"Hello?" You speak softly.

"Hi! Is this Y/N Y/L/N?" A voice of a middle-aged man speaks back.

"Yes, this is." You nod, glancing at Taehyung. He's looking at you fondly, continuing to play with your hair. So patient. Your heart swells.

"Perfect! This is Hyun Do-yun from Film Out Theatre Company! I'm calling regarding your audition for 'The Eternal'? I just wanted to let you know that we've accepted you for the in-person auditions on December 16th! Are you still able to be in London by then?"

You freeze, eyes locking wide on Taehyungs, which he seems to catch your surprise and is looking at you with a questioning stare. There's no way this could be happening. There's no way you just made out with Kim Taehyung, and now you're getting this call. There's absolutely no way. Your heart feels like it's about to combust, and it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings before you respond.

"Wow.. That is-! Wow, thank you!" You sputter, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm absolutely available; thank you so much."

"Perfect! I'll email you all of the information regarding callbacks, and we'll see you on December 16th!" He chuckles; a shuffling of papers is heard on the end of the line.

"Awesome. Thank you so much again!" You can't contain your smile, closing your eyes in glee before he finally says goodbye and hangs up the phone.

It takes you a moment to truly come back to your senses, the aura of warmth from Taehyungs body hovering above yours finally shaking you from your resolve. Still, he's looking at you with curious and elated eyes at the smile on your face… he must know it's good news!

"I got the callback, Tae." You choke out, excitement bubbling in your throat and causing your words to come out in nearly a squeak.

"What's the call back for?" Taehyung questions.

Oh right, you never even told him about this one— while you were too busy being an idiot and not making a move.

"It's a West End production called 'The Eternal'!! The lead role, Taehyung. The lead role!!"

His veiny hand that was previously playing with the ends of your hair hesitates for a split second, and a flash of something crosses his face. If he didn't immediately start smiling and shaking you with excitement, you might have asked him what that initial look was for-- but you're suddenly too overcome with excitement to care anymore.

"Y/n that is-- amazing." Taehyung beams, deeming it necessary to reward you with a quick peck on your lips. Every time he touches you, the previous thoughts of the audition-- what you were going to wear, your makeup, everything-- all of that seems to waver away in a fraction of a second. All you can think about is the fact that Kim Taehyung is on your couch, practically straddling you and kissing you as if you've always been his. As if this was something he was used to doing daily. If it weren't for your awareness of when you met him, you would probably think that he's known you for most of your life.

Despite the almost embarrassing fact that you're leaning in again to resume the kiss, he pulls away a bit with a smile.

"Woah, slow down. I want to know more about that audition." He's chuckling at your disappointed expression before you're flying through the details of the aforementioned audition. You tell him about the night that you got the email, how Kim Namjoon was the one who reached out to the director and gave you a good word. Taehyung sits quietly as you explain, his hand holding yours as he denies having anything to do with the fact that Kim Namjoon received a video of you singing. You don't believe him when he says that it wasn't him, but you continue anyway.

It may be in your imagination, but the more you speak of the audition, the more Taehyung seems to remove himself from your embrace. At the moment, you don't think anything of it. He's probably more intrigued that you, of all people, are receiving this kind of opportunity rather than the fact that the two of you were making out merely minutes ago.

"Wait..." You scoot up a bit, removing Taehyung completely from lying above you-- seating yourself across from him on the couch. "You we're going to say something to me before I got the call."

Taehyung freezes for a second, glancing at you before he quickly rushes out with a response. "Actually, it's not important."

You give him an "I don't buy it" look.

"Seriously, it was nothing." He insists with a laugh, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. He must know that touching you has a noticeable effect on your ability to function, especially since your eyes are falling to where the skin-on-skin contact occurred. Still, you press on.

"Taehyung, it was obviously not nothing..." You deadpan. "It took you a minute to even get the words out."

"Yeah! Because it was so stupid and didn't need to be said." He counters.

"You're a terrible liar." You respond.

Taehyung narrows his eyes towards you, pretending to be hurt by your comment.

"Come on, Tae, just tell-" But before you can fully get the words out, he leans over and lands a peck on your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours before he pulls away with a satisfied grin on his face.

You can feel your cheeks heating up, a small smile forcing its way onto your lips... This guy is dangerous. Despite this, you can't help but realize how wonderful it is to think about the fact that he could kiss you at any moment. That he wants to kiss you and hold you in the way that you've been hoping for for months. He has no idea how long you've waited for this.

He chuckles at your dazed expression, sighing quietly. "You should probably get some sleep... You have a shift tomorrow."

You stare. "How did you know that?"

Taehyung pauses. "You.. You always work on Fridays, right?"

You nod before throwing a grin his way, raising your hand to his wild hair that's grown wilder after your little rendezvous. "I guess I have a stalker now."

He looks at you incredulously, removing your hand from his head of hair with a quiet "am not." The two of you share a smile, enjoying the peacefulness that encompasses the room before he's finally raising himself from the couch. He's grabbing his things before you finally attempt to stand up with him-- and yet, he immediately stops you.

"Now, now. Your precious West End feet should never touch the floor again!" He says spiritedly, delicately placing you back onto the couch with a kiss. "I'll see myself out, okay? Get some rest."

You don't fight with him, enjoying his dramatics. He's making his way towards the door when he turns to offer you one last smile, blowing a kiss your way before he's disappearing out into the hallway.

For a second, you think that maybe this was just another dream. This whole night could not have happened... it was just way too unrealistic. Yet, here you were. After thousands of pinches later to make sure you were conscious, your eyes meet Taehyungs discarded beanie on your small dining table. He forgot it.

It's winter... he's going to freeze.

Without a second thought, you're leaping up towards the table, snatching his beanie while bounding towards the door to catch him.

Before you can fully leave your apartment entrance, you halt in your tracks, eyes widening slightly.

Taehyung had barely gone anywhere. He's standing in the hallway, his forehead resting against the hallway wall, with his arms placed above his head. Before you can call his name, he makes a quick movement as if he's going to punch it... your breath catches in your throat when he turns into view.

Is he crying?

Why is he crying?

His eyes are red as he grabs a fistful of his hair in both hands, pacing back and forth between the sides of the hallway. He looks completely shaken up. He seats himself on the ground, curling his legs up. You can hear quiet "shits" and "fucks" escaping his mouth as he hides his face in his hands, throwing you off slightly since you've never heard him outwardly cuss before. If it weren't for your fear of confrontation, you would probably be hugging him by now. You don't want to disturb him anyway... not when he probably thinks he's alone. Moments like this need privacy.

The last thing you see is Taehyung picking himself up, closing his eyes together as he attempts to control his breathing before he's shakily making his way towards the door.

If there was one thing Taehyung was bad at, it was hiding his emotions.

But he was, almost scarily, good at keeping secrets.

next chapter

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Two // Wanda Maximoff

chapter one | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter three

author’s note: thank you so much for the feedback on chapter one, everyone! i really appreciate and I’m glad you’re excited for more. hope you enjoy :)

"What do you think of this one?"

I pulled a face, shaking my head. My brother sighed dramatically before moving along the display cabinet, searching for the perfect ring.

Just as he'd said at dinner the other night, we were browsing engagement rings for Wanda, and I was (obviously) hating every second of it. My parents thought it would be good to help Y/B/N whilst also getting me more involved in the whole wedding thing; and I couldn't exactly say no to them, so here I was, half interested in what we were doing.

"What if I can't find anything?" Y/B/N asked, chewing the inside of his cheek as he continued to look. "This is the third jewellers we've been to, Y/N."

Figuring it was time to actually make an effort and be a supportive sister, I rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You'll find something," I told him confidently. "It just needs to come to you, y'know? She'll love anything you pick."

He smiled at me. "Thanks. I just don't want to disappoint her. The last thing I want to worry about is her hating the ring."

I chuckled, rounding the cabinet to get a look at a different display. "I doubt she'll hate any of this. Girls love jewellery. This is pretty good jewellery."

"Y/N, you hate jewellery," he pointed out with amusement, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"I don't hate it," I defended. "I'm just not a fan of shopping for it."

He snickered as he continued to peruse the cabinets. "Well, Wanda seems to love it. D'you see how many rings she was wearing that night?"

I breathed out through my nose, definitely remembering. It was hard to forget when her ring-adorned fingers were brushing the top of my hand every few minutes. But obviously I wasn't going to say that to Y/B/N, so I hummed in response.

It went quiet as I tried to find a ring that would suffice. Rings weren't my taste, personally. I was more of a necklace person, so this was just as difficult for me as it was for Y/B/N. They all looked similar to me though, upon closer inspection, had different engravings and patterns in the gold and silver bands.

"So, what did you think of Wanda's brother?" Y/B/N asked, earning my attention.

He was smiling cheekily as he awaited a response.

"Pietro?" I asked with creased brows. He nodded and I continued, "He was nice, I guess. Has a sense of humour."

My brother gave me a knowing look as he looked at the glass display once again. "He's unmarried you know."

"No, thank you," I answered instantly, not particularly fond of discussing my potential marital future with my brother.

"Oh, don't be like that, Y/N," he said with a laugh. "I'm just looking out for you!"

I drummed my fingers on the cabinet top. "Well, I didn't ask you to. I'm perfectly content as I am."

Y/B/N cocked his head to the side as he glanced at me. "You know you can't stay unmarried forever." I opened my mouth to say something, but he was quick to continue. "And no, not because a woman should marry no matter what. But rather because you will most definitely give mum a heart attack."

I closed my mouth, trying to come up with a response, but my shoulders sank at the truth to his words. He half-smiled when he knew I knew he was right.

"I don't want to think about this now," I decided, waving my hand. "Ring. Look. Now."

He laughed again but nodded and stayed quiet. We both continued to have a look around until I was surprisingly certain that I'd found the perfect ring. There was a case filled with rings holding precious gemstones and a particular one stood out to me.

"Hey, Y/B/N, come here," I called him over, eyes never leaving the ring as I moved closer to inspect it. "What about this one?"

Pointing to the glass case, I chose an elegant silver band with a small, non-dominating emerald gemstone sat on top. It wasn't too flashy nor too plain and something told me that it might just be Wanda's taste.

"It'll match her eyes," I said, watching him as he leaned forward to get a better look. "She'll love it."

My brother seemed confused as he straightened up. "I thought her eyes were brown."

I rolled my eyes, taking a step back. "Fine, get a brown ring."

He tried not to laugh as he raised his hands with defeat. "Okay, okay, I believe you, no need for the sarcasm!" He proceeded to call the shopkeeper over to get the ring and glanced at me once more. "You're one hundred percent sure she's got green eyes?"

"Well, they're hazel, but this will definitely compliment them," I assured him, making him shrug as he looked back to the shopkeeper.

To my own dismay, I was certain her eyes were hazel. They were very inviting and the dinner the other night was evidence of that, as I found myself unable to look away whenever she found my gaze. Hopefully she'd like the ring, I guess.

—

The bothersome thing about my brother's engagement was just how many celebrations that followed. A week after the dinner came the engagement party, a celebratory evening with all of our family and friends and my brother's many admirers. The Maximoffs invited their friends, too, sadly not having any extended family to invite as it was only them here in England.

It was an expensive affair, but so was everything when it came to my brother. There was food, drinks, dancing, gifts and much more for the newly-engaged couple, and I once again found myself dressed in an uncomfortable dress of my mother's choice.

If that wasn't enough of a punishment, I was also reunited with my extended family whom only showed their faces on glamorous occasions such as this one. It's not that I didn't like them, but I felt like I rarely knew them, especially when they shared stories from when they used to see me as a baby and expected me to remember the memory like it was yesterday.

I found myself victim to yet another relative at the start of the evening. This time, it was one of my aunties from my father's side whom I vaguely recognised from my childhood. She'd found me by the snacks table where I was recovering from a previous encounter with a cousin of mine, and immediately began pulling my cheeks and reminiscing on how chubby and cute they were when I was – you guessed it – a baby.

"Auntie, I think that–"

"So grown up, but still so cute!" she gushed, cutting me off and proceeding to yank my cheeks so hard that they began to hurt.

I winced, trying to back away, but she dragged me closer by the face, making me groan with displeasure.

"Y/N, there you are!"

The only reason I knew it was Wanda who called for me was because of her Russian accent, otherwise I was still unable to turn and check because my auntie had me trapped. When Wanda came into sight, stopping by the two of us, my auntie finally let go, now distracted by the brunette. I exhaled gratefully, hands rubbing my cheeks to relieve the ache. I had no doubts they were red from the pinching. God, I hated family reunions.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt," Wanda apologised with an endearing smile as she looked to my auntie, "but please may I steal Y/N away from you for a moment?"

My auntie nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, dear! You're family now! Do whatever you like."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as she said that. Wanda flashed her a final smile before tugging me away, near some deserted high table.

"What did you need?" I asked, quirking a brow.

She was looking around the room when I asked her, before her eyes focused on me. Unlike me, she seemed very comfortable in this environment, and the dress she wore was perfect for her. A scarlet-coloured gown that put anybody else's clothes here to shame. Did she just look good in everything or something?

"I didn't actually need anything," she answered, licking her lips. "I just saw your auntie harassing you and figured you'd like the escape."

Surprised at her observant nature, I cleared my throat and relaxed my shoulders. "Oh, well thanks."

She smiled widely, teeth shining and eyes sparkling and I was now beginning to think she truly had no flaws.

"You look beautiful tonight by the way," she said, and there was nobody around to hear it which made me think she wasn't trying to kiss up like I'd assumed initially.

"Thanks," I returned with a small smile. "I– er– so do you. Is that your favourite colour?"

She was wearing a similar colour the first night we met, so I could only assume it was. Which was a good choice, since she looked good in it.

She glanced down at her dress and nodded. "Something like that."

I leaned on the table as I watched her curiously. "Shouldn't you be with Y/B/N?"

Looking back up, she grinned mischievously. "You trying to get rid of me already?"

Shaking my head, I tried to find the words to say that I wasn't and she'd misinterpreted, but she was doing that thing again where she wouldn't look away first, her eyes glowing with amusement. If I wasn't certain before today that her eyes were a bright hazel colour, I definitely was now.

"I'm kidding," she finally said, laughter spilling from her lips. It was a sweet sound and I suddenly envied my brother for being able to hear it whenever he pleased.

"I just thought that you would be together since it's your engagement party," I explained, a little more flustered than I'd wanted to be.

Her lips pressed together in a suppressed smile as she nodded behind me. I spun around, following her gaze, and spotted my brother across the room charming some guests with, no doubt, another epic tale of his career.

"He seems to be doing fine on his own, milaya," Wanda whispered into my ear, making me freeze at the warmth of her breath tickling my skin.

Shivers ran down my spine as she was close enough for her perfume to infiltrate my nose. Swallowing hard, trying not to be very much attracted to her accent when she spoke English but also Russian, I took a moment to breathe out and clear my head of thoughts containing the Maximoff woman. When I was sure I was okay, I craned my neck to speak to her, only to feel my mouth go dry.

She was stood very close to me still, a teasing smirk on her lips. Up close, her eyes were intoxicating, drawing me in and making me forget where we were and what we were talking about.

"Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" she asked quietly, feigning innocence, her accent thicker than usual.

My lips parted as I tried to say something, but her eyes were distracting and her lips were curved upwards perfectly and I suddenly forgot how to speak English.

She chuckled, stepping back slightly, and I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress as Wanda watched me with amusement.

"Your mother is calling you," she said, nodding behind me. And then I heard my mother indeed calling my name. "I'll leave you to it. Try not to fall victim to another family member."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, eyes falling to her mouth as she bit her lower lip to contain a smile. What was she getting out of this? Did she find joy in making me flustered or was she actually flirting right now? The latter couldn't be possible... she was going to marry my brother. This was her engagement party for crying out loud! She was definitely enjoying making me stumble over myself.

"Right," I spoke, finally finding my words.

With a quick nod, I looked away and followed the sound of my mother's voice. I was unsure why I felt the need to look over my shoulder, but when I did, I saw Wanda watching me still, eyes gleaming even with the distance. I looked away instantly, hoping this weird, flirtatious behaviour of hers would cease soon. I wasn't sure I could take anymore of it.

—

The evening was going well following Wanda's (what I was now calling) tormenting. I stuck to myself when my mother wasn't dragging me around, forcing me to mingle with family friends.

Tucked in the corner with a book I'd managed to sneak along was a good pastime, until halfway through the evening, everybody was brought to the front of the room for an announcement. I almost missed it if it weren't for Pietro finding me and trying not to laugh at my complete disconnect from the event around me.

"They're exchanging the rings," he told me, pulling me from my table and to the front. "Family's got to be there. Including you, Y/N."

I rushed to put my bookmark between my pages as he tugged me along, finally stopping by the front of the crowd alongside our mothers. Standing before everyone were our fathers and the engaged couple themselves, all smiling and putting on the perfect show.

"We are privileged to announce the engagement and union of my beloved daughter, Wanda Maximoff, and everybody's favourite author, Y/B/N Y/L/N," Oleg announced proudly, glass of champagne in his hand.

Both Y/B/N and Wanda exchanged smiles before looking out to everyone. When my brother's eyes met mine, I smiled encouragingly, and when Wanda's eyes met mine, my smile faded as she grinned my way, eyes saying a thousand things, none of which I could decipher.

"They will now present each other with the rings," my dad said, making the crowd chatter excitedly amongst themselves.

All eyes were on the couple as they presented their rings. Wanda had gotten Y/B/N a plain silver band, perfect for the guy who wasn't a fan of jewellery, and he wore it with pride. Then Y/B/N offered up the ring we'd picked in the store and Wanda's smile was as wide as ever when she saw it.

He placed it on her ring finger and she studied it once more, the emerald sparkling under the light and making all the women in the crowd jealous. She pulled him in for a grateful hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and I found myself looking away, not particularly a fan of them getting cosy.

"Gross, right?" Pietro asked, nudging me in the arm slightly. He was trying not to laugh as he avoided looking at the couple up front. "Like, we get it, you're engaged."

A smile appeared on my lips as I glanced at the silver-haired publisher, appreciating his attempt to make me laugh.

"Gross indeed," I agreed.

He rolled his eyes playfully before looking forward again, watching as my father continued to make a speech about how great it was to unify our families.

I listened in, though I'd heard the same spiel several times at home when they'd initiated the idea in the first place. Judging from the look on Pietro's face, he'd heard the same, and I was glad it wasn't just me who felt icky about this whole thing.

This evening couldn't end any sooner.

—

"I just don't understand why I need to go," I complained to my mother.

She was sat before her mirror, finishing applying her makeup and looking presentable for the girl's trip she'd planned for Iryna, Wanda, herself and I.

"Because you're going to become Wanda's sister-in-law and we are all going to become a family," she said like it was obvious, not bothering to look my way. "It'll be fun, Y/N."

I groaned quietly, leaning against the doorframe. A servant fussed around my mother's room, tidying up the mess of clothes she'd left in her wake from picking an outfit. I watched her with boredom, knowing I'd take that job over today's plans any day.

"You might make a new friend with Wanda," my mum continued delightfully. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

I tensed my jaw, eyes narrowing into the window ahead. "Yeah, really nice, mum."

"Good, now go and w–" she began, but was cut off when the doorbell rang from downstairs. Waving her hand, she said, "Go greet the Maximoffs whilst I finish up here, dear."

I sighed, straightening up. "Do I have a choice?"

"Don't forget to smile!" she called after me.

Making my way downstairs, I saw one of our servants opening the door and greeting the Maximoffs politely before letting them inside. Upon spotting me descending the staircase, Iryna smiled brightly.

"Y/N, dear, how lovely to see you!" she exclaimed, and when I got to the bottom, she pulled me in for a surprise hug. "How are you doing this morning, my dear?"

After recovering from the surprise hug, ignoring the way Wanda stifled laughter from behind her mother, I stepped back and gave the older woman a genuine smile.

"I'm doing good, Miss Maximoff," I said, and when she gave me a stern look, I backtracked, remembering her words from the engagement party a few nights ago. "Iryna– right, sorry. I'm doing good. And yourself?"

"Very good now that we're here," she said cheerfully, before nodding for Wanda to join her side. "Wan, what are you doing there? Come and give your sister-in-law a hug the right way!"

I gulped as Wanda did as her mother said, stepping forward without hesitation and pulling me in for a quick hug. Not wanting to look like an idiot, I wrapped my arms around her torso, hoping I wasn't as stiff as I felt. Once again, she smelt really good and I forgot how to breathe.

"Good morning, milaya," she muttered in my ear before pulling away with a harmless smile.

"Morning," I got out, being sure to avoid her gaze as I looked back to her mother. "Can I offer either of you a cup of tea? Or a drink? My mother is just finishing getting ready."

"No need, Y/N!" my mum called as she walked down the stairs behind me. Wearing an apologetic smile, she looked to Iryna and Wanda. "Sorry about that, ladies. I'm all ready to go if you are."

After sharing a greeting with them, my mum led us all outside to the carriage that was waiting to take us into town. We got in and were soon on our way to have the time of our life! (Cue the sarcasm).

"So, Y/N," Iryna said, and I looked up to see her sat beside Wanda who was sat opposite me. "What are your thoughts on this whole engagement? It was quite the affair the other night!"

I forced a smile as I nodded respectfully. "It was a great evening, Iryna. A great start to a successful marriage, I'm sure."

That seemed to start Iryna on a tangent about the engagement and how lovely the evening was and all of the new family members she met on our side. A sigh escaped my lips as I practically relived it with her retelling, making my mum nudge me in the arm gently but scoldingly.

"...and the ring!" Iryna enthused, not noticing my disinterest. "Don't get me started on the ring. Is there anything Y/B/N isn't good at?"

I could name a few things, yes.

With difficulty, I pressed my lips together to stop myself from cracking a knowing smile. Iryna told Wanda to hold out her hand so she could take another look, and as she did, it was the first time I'd seen the ring up close since she'd been given it. I glanced between the ring and her eyes and knew I'd made the right decision.

My mother began to shower Wanda in compliments – "Oh, it matches your eyes, dear! It's like it's meant to be!" – as I sat back and wished we'd arrive at the shops already.

"Between us ladies," my mum said playfully to Wanda, "is it good enough or did you expect something better?"

Wanda chuckled, shaking her head. "I didn't have any expectations, Y/M/N. I would have been happy with whatever Y/B/N picked. But this... this is absolutely stunning. He clearly put a lot of thought into it."

Yes, of course he did. So thoughtful, isn't he? Especially his attention to detail, like when he remembered the colour of your eyes.

Oh, wait.

After what felt like forever, we finally reached the shops and could escape that shrinking carriage for a few minutes before heading into a dress shop to suffocate yet again.

As usual, I followed my mother around like a lost puppy, letting her take the lead with picking some clothes. She was deep into conversation with Iryna, the two of them bonding instantly as they talked about their interests and marriage and their children's engagement.

At one point, I left them to it, resorting to browsing through a rack that had some pretty pastel dresses hanging from it. I didn't have plans to buy anything since I didn't need anything, but it didn't hurt to look.

"Hey," Wanda's voice echoed from behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see her joining my side.

"Hey," I replied, continuing to look through the dresses.

She browsed through the rack also, going through each dress slowly as she smiled to herself. "So, you don't like shopping I take it."

I hummed in agreement. "Not really."

She nodded, continuing her browsing. "You don't like parties either. Or dinners." I hummed again and she continued, "And you don't like it when your brother gets all the attention."

I hummed subconsciously, before realising what she said. Stopping my browsing, I looked to her with furrowed brows. "I never said that."

Mischief dancing in her eyes, she glanced me way and winked playfully. "You didn't need to."

Clenching my jaw slightly, I busied myself with going through the hangers, hoping the heat creeping up my neck would disperse. I wasn't going to let Wanda get to me yet again. It was like she had some kind of magic spell on me, making me unable to think straight whenever she was in my vicinity.

"I know you picked my ring by the way," she said after a moment of silence.

I licked my lips and played dumb, not looking her way. "What do you mean? Y/B/N chose it."

She snickered. "I know it was you, Y/N. No man in the world is that thoughtful."

I stayed quiet, figuring it was my best option. She seemed to find this entertaining as she turned to face me, leaning against the rack and watching me curiously.

"I must ask though. Why emerald?"

Fingers playing with the fabric of the dress before me, I shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not?"

She laughed, and it was the second time she'd done so so freely, making the pit of my stomach flip uncontrollably at the sound.

"You don't seem like the type to just do things," she observed. "There had to be a reason. Please enlighten me."

Once again, I shrugged as I made sure not to look her way. I wasn't planning to get sucked in by her killer eyes yet again.

"I'm not blind," I told her casually. "I saw it and remembered that you have hazel eyes that sometimes look green. I thought it would suit you. A mere artistic observation."

"Ah, I see," she said with a nod, playing along. "Well, you have good taste. Thank you. I adore it."

"It was nothing," I assured her, hoping she couldn't hear my heart beating ever-so-quickly in my chest. The longer she watched me, the more flustered I got.

Suddenly, she stepped forward, her hand resting on the small of my back. The simplest of touches had me paralysed, at a loss for words, frozen in place. Mentally I knew that it wasn't right that she made me react like this. But my body wouldn't listen to my brain and Wanda seemed to realise that, clearly revelling in my misery.

"So, you remembered my eye colour after just two meetings, huh?" she asked lightheartedly, leaning in, her hand still pressed to my back gently.

Finally finding the ability to stand my ground, I said, "I'm very observant," and I turned to look at her to show her that whatever game she was playing wasn't going to work anymore. Of course, that was a huge mistake, because as soon as my eyes locked with hers, I lost all resolve.

"That you are," she noted with a smirk, before her hand dropped to her side and she nodded to the long-forgotten dress in my hand. "You should get it. It suits you."

And with that comment, she left me alone to join our mothers yet again. I breathed out shakily, realising that Wanda Maximoff was becoming a bigger issue than I thought.

After purchasing some new dresses from several stores (no, I didn't buy the dress Wanda wanted me to), the four of us stopped by a café for a spot of lunch. Despite the flustered mess I became whenever Wanda gave me more attention than we both know she should have, I was having an okay time.

Iryna was very sweet, wanting to get to know me since we would be family soon, and made me feel at ease whenever she could. My mother was too distracted by her and Wanda's presence to tell me off for complaining, and it was just genuinely kind of nice to get out.

I was drinking a cup of tea as we waited for our food order when my mum tried to get the details on Wanda's newly-planned date with my brother in a few days.

"You're going to the theatre, right?" she asked Wanda eagerly, as if she didn't already know everything anyway.

Y/B/N had talked about this literally last night at dinner. It was to be Wanda's and his first official date, and the first real opportunity away from family and prying eyes to get to know each other better.

"Yes, he got tickets to see a new play I've never heard of," she admitted with a chuckle. "It'll be a chance to get to know him better. The only things I know of him are what my family have told me and what I've learnt from everyone around us."

Iryna smiled as she watched her daughter, whilst my mother waved her hand optimistically.

"Oh, I'm sure the date will go splendidly," she assured Wanda. "It's no secret that you're both very attractive, young adults. If there are no sparks between you, then we're all done for."

At this comment, Iryna and my mother both erupted into laughter, like it was some kind of joke that only middle-aged women seemed to get. I raised my eyebrows and dropped them behind a cup of tea, figuring it was best to stay quiet.

"I'm sure it will," Wanda said in agreement, though her voice was quieter, unable to be heard behind their laughter.

Surprisingly, I found myself intrigued by this rarely seen version of Wanda. It was a similar version to the one I'd seen the night of the dinner, when I showed her around upstairs and the conversation of my brother crept in. It wasn't hard to forget her ability to dance around the question to whether she liked him or not.

And now, she seemed to wear a false smile as she mulled over their date. I guess it was strange to see since I naturally figured she'd want to marry him – pretty much any woman in the city did – but maybe that wasn't the case.

"...tell her what he's like," my mother insisted, pulling me away from my observation. "You're his sister. Who better than you to give her an idea?"

Realising what she was saying, I tried not to choke on my tea. I lowered the cup and shook my head calmly, though the intent was very much urgent.

"She should just see," I said uncertainly. "I mean, what better way to know than to just speak to him?"

One deathly glance from my mother and I straightened up, looking to the Maximoffs before me.

"But if I was to say something," I continued smoothly, making my mother relax at my words, "I'd say that my brother has always been a very respectful man. He's kind-hearted and he's caring."

Iryna was hanging onto my every word whilst Wanda stared at me but seemed elsewhere.

"And he's really excited to get to know you better, Wanda," I said truthfully, looking to the oddly-quiet brunette with a small reassuring smile. "He really likes you."

Iryna mentioned something about Y/B/N being just the man her Wanda deserves, but I was barely paying attention as I looked to the girl in question. She returned my smile, void of teasing or mischief like usual, and nodded quickly before looking down to her own cup of tea.

She was certainly a strange one.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #marvel #marvel imagine

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luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Moonlight

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 3.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

☼ Summary: Seokjin has been back in your life for 5 years now. It’s a different future than what you had imagined, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. What else does the future hold for you?

☼ Drabble/epilogue to Sunrise

☼ a/n: Surprise! So many people were asking and curious about what happened and I got a little brain worm of an idea of what the future holds for the Sunrise pair! This can probably be read as a stand alone if you didn’t want to read the first part. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Excitement bubbles in your belly as you smooth the front of your dress down, hand pausing for just a moment on your belly as you give yourself one final once-over in the mirror. You’re so happy that you finally got to wear the sunset dress again. Although you have no idea what you’re wearing it for.

Seokjin has been tightlipped about his plans for you tonight. He simply told you to dress up, hinted to you to wear this specifically. He’d seen it a while ago one night when he was over, hanging in your closet. You’d told him why when he questioned why you had it hanging up, though he’d shyly told you that he had seen you wear it already. When you said you’d kept it because you wanted to wear it again, he got a gleam in his eye that you never quite understood. At least, until now with his not so subtle hints to wear it.

You smile thinking about him. It’s been a lot of work to get to this point. But it’s been so worth it. No matter the length of time. You’ve treasured every single moment.

You had spent about 2 years getting to know each other again. There was a thrill in learning Seokjin all over again. To discover the little things about the man he grew into. Hearing stories about the years you missed. Stories about friends you hadn’t kept in touch with but he had. You shared stories from friends you’d kept close but he had lost contact with. Every time you two were together was a fun adventure in discovery.

And for all the new things you were learning about him. He could still make you laugh just as easy and it was so easy to still joke with him. The new and old blended to make the Seokjin before you and it was simple to start falling for him all over again.

Then, one day, Seokjin stopped by your place unannounced and asked you out. He was panting, like he’d sprinted the whole way there and his confession was rushed out in one long breath and you only caught half of it. It took everything in you not to laugh at the wild look in his eye as he rambled, but as funny as it was, it was hopelessly endearing.

You couldn’t deny that it felt right, so you said yes. The easiest decision you had ever said yes to. Now, almost 3 years later, you’re still going strong. Far stronger than you ever were in university. You’ve both learned a lot from the past. For all that you have problems, like any human, you’ve gotten better at communicating through it. You know when you need to take a break, get some space to sit with your feelings and be able to put them into words. And it’s done wonders to make things work smoother.

You rack your brain, trying to figure out if maybe you’re missing some important date. An anniversary? No, that was less than two months ago. Seokjin took you to a private beach. Not that either of you saw much of the beach with how adamant Seokjin seemed to keep you in bed with him.

You shudder as another orgasm courses through your body. “Seokjin…” you whine.

You get a hum in response but his face remains firmly buried in your pussy, where he’s been for at least an hour and several orgasms at this point. You’d protested by your third one, whining for his cock. But Seokjin had simply pressed a sloppy kiss to your thigh as he took a moment to explain that tonight was all about you.

Apparently all about you meant he was going to make you cum until you passed out. Your entire body tingled, some weird mix between being numb and feeling like every nerve was electrified. Deliriously, your fingers tighten in his hair and tug, harder than you intend if his sharp inhale against you is anything to go by.

“Baby, please…” You give him another tug.

If you weren’t so weak, you would push him until you could climb on his dick yourself. Chuckling, Seokjin finally pulls away, face smeared with your slick and face equal parts pleased and smug.

“Want my dick that bad?” he teases.

You glare. “I will go find the nearest sex shop and buy a dildo. At least it wouldn’t get mouthy.”

Seokjin’s grin is bright as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he swoops down to pepper your face with kisses. “You like my mouth.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips, lining his hips with yours and letting his cock settle against your soaked slit. His smile softens and he presses a far gentler kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You give his hair another tug. “I’d love you more if you put your dick in me.”

He blinks at you before erupting into squeaky laughter. “You ruined it.”

“I ruined nothing. You’re still hard as a rock.”

To prove your point, your grind against him, making you both gasp at the pressure. Seokjin ignores the comment, choosing instead to finally give you what you’ve been wanting. He pulls his hips back ever so slightly, just enough to position himself at your entrance and then he’s pressing forward, filling you with one languid stroke.

He keeps his pace just as slowly as he ate you out. Taking his time and ensuring you feel every inch and shift of his cock inside you. He cums what feels like an eternity later, filling you further. He keeps himself buried in you, kissing you slowly and deeply, pouring every ounce of love for you into it.

So definitely not your anniversary. Neither of your birthday’s are near. Neither of you have had any recent accomplishments that need to be celebrated. You suppose he could just want to take you out, one of his new favorite things is taking you on dates whenever your schedules allow it.

You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t need elaborate dates. But he seems to know how much you do enjoy being spoiled by him, even as you protest it. Though at some point he did seem to realize that you also love nights spent at home, curled up with him on the couch together. And he’s been all too happy to flex his improved cooking skills. You’ve definitely enjoyed learning that new aspect of him too. University hadn’t been conducive to cooking elaborately. Money was often tight and so what you ate often was prepared or frozen with the occasional nicer meal when finances worked in your favor.

Tonight feels different though. There’s something about the secrecy and meticulous planning that makes this seem different than just a regular date night. You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what he has planned for you. If Seokjin didn’t want you to know, there would be no way for you to try and figure out what the secret was.

You check your phone, seeing that Seokjin should be here soon and so you move out to the living room to wait for him. You’re so thankful that you got to meet Seokjin again. You’re even more thankful that you had the time apart to grow on your own. While the break up was painful and rough when it happened and for a while after. You wouldn’t be the person you are now without it. It makes the relationship now that much more special.

No matter what news or plans Seokjin has, you have your own to share to make the night happy. Your hand rests on your belly once more, a small smile on your face.

There’s a brief knock at the door and then it’s opening, Seokjin beaming when he sees you standing in the living room. You let your hand drop from your belly.

“Wow,” he breaths, eyes slowly tracing over your frame. “You look… stunning.”

You grin, giving him a slow look up and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He chuckles, finally coming closer and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I had a lot of help from this pretty amazing designer.”

You feel a pleased rush run through you and you return the kiss eagerly. It’s easy to get lost in the kiss and you almost want to tell him to just forget about whatever he has planned in favor of spending the evening in bed. But Seokjin pulls away, a slightly bewildered smile on his face when you try to follow.

“Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

“For what?”

He just raises an eyebrow at you and you huff. He honestly can’t blame you for trying to get some sort of hint or answer about his plans. Taking your hand, he presses his lips to your knuckles before entwining your fingers. He leads you out to the waiting car, helps you into the back, carefully ensuring that your dress is safely tucked inside the car before he’s moving to the other side and sliding in beside you.

The drive is almost silent, save for the soft music filtering through the speakers. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, deciding to just enjoy being with him again. He’s been busy the last few weeks with a new film and this is the first evening he’s been free to be with you that isn’t just takeout and the couch. Or bed depending on how tired either of you are.

Seokjin gently shakes you awake some time later and you blink blearily at him for a moment. His smile is endearingly fond as he waits for your brain to kick back on after your impromptu nap. You’ve been so tired lately.

“Are we here?”

He laughs and brushes a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, baby, we are.”

Once he believes that you’ll stay awake, he gets out, circling around to your side and helping you out of the car. You look around with a frown, unfamiliar with where you are. You’re in front of a tall building, windows reflecting the sunset. The building is unmarked and that leaves you even more confused.

Smiling at your confusion, he takes your hand and leads you forward into the building. The elevator ride has anticipation building in your belly. Seokjin always plans the best surprises. He’s only grown more thoughtful and kind with age.

Finally the elevator dings open, revealing a restaurant lobby.

Except the lobby is empty, most of the lights off. Are they closed? You turn toward Seokjin, brows furrowed in confusion.

He grins, gesturing towards the wall behind the host stand where the restaurant name is lit up, the brightest of the lights in the room currently. Moonlight.

“So… Me and Seokjung are opening a restaurant. Well, he’s doing all the hard work. I’m just an investor. It opens in a couple of weeks.”

You grin. You know Seokjung’s wanted to open a restaurant for the longest time. The Kim brother’s definitely shared a love of cooking and food. You can’t believe he’s hidden this from you. But knowing him, he wanted everything perfectly in place before he revealed it to you. Which seems to be tonight. “Seokjin, that’s amazing!”

He nods. “Seokjung’s ecstatic…”

Tilting your head, you inspect him slowly. “If it’s not open, then why are we here?”

Shyly, Seokjin leads you past the lobby into the dining area. It’s massive, so much bigger than you would have thought it would be, given how the building looks from the outside. The most stunning thing is the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the ocean. You didn’t know you were so close to the shore.

Without thinking, you move to the window, looking out over the sunset. The view is just as stunning as you thought it would be.

“It took months to find the right place. Seokjung was getting so frustrated that I kept saying no to every place he suggested. But I had this vision for it. This vision. Something I could bring the love of my life to. That felt like home to us... And everyone else,” he adds belatedly.

You look at him over your shoulder. He’s such a sap. You reach a hand out and he takes it, letting you pull him beside you. You’re both silent for a long moment, looking out at the gorgeous view.

“Seokjin, I’m-”

“We’ve been-”

You both start at the same time, laughing when you both stop.

You gesture for him to continue. “You go first, baby. You planned all this, you’ve clearly had this for a lot longer.”

Licking his lips, he nods. He pulls you a few feet away towards a table that’s set beside the windows, candles casting twinkling light across the glassware.

“Seokjung is cooking for us tonight.” He pulls your seat out for you, circling around to sit across from you. He looks inexplicably nervous, but a streak of nerves runs through you too with the news you’re holding on to. “I wanted to do something special. I thought being the first person to try the restaurant was pretty special. And I wanted you to be the first person to eat and see this view. I wanted to be with you when you saw it.”

Reaching across the table, you take his fidgeting hand. You love this man so much. Seokjung comes out then, hands laden with plates that he sets out on the table. The spread is truly impressive. Seokjung has to make two trips to bring everything out.

You laugh incredulously as Seokjung retreats back to the kitchen. “Are you planning to feed an army here?”

Seokjin grins sheepishly. “Seokjung was a little excited to work out the menu and have someone try everything. He’s going to ask later for feedback and you know how he is about that.”

You give a nod. You definitely do know how Seokjung can get. It’s the same way Seokjin sometimes gets when he’s trying out a new recipe. You both eat in companionable silence. There’s no need to fill the silence with a lot of chatter. It’s more than enough to just be here with him. Seokjin occasionally feeds you bites of things he thinks you’ll like and it’s thrilling to have him spoil you like this. When he sees things that you like more, he makes sure that you have most of it, not-so-subtly shifting those bites towards you.

You try to surreptitiously ignore the full wine glass throughout the meal. Resorting to distracting Seokjin whenever his eyes begin to drift towards it with confusion. He knows it’s your favorite. It doesn’t seem like the right time to explain why you can’t drink it right now. You can tell that there’s something else Seokjin wants to say. That tonight doesn’t seem to be solely about being the first to eat at the restaurant. Seokjin wouldn’t be so nervous if it was as simple as that.

Once the food is gone, Seokjung brings out dessert and Seokjin seems to grow even more nervous. As you reach out to take a spoon, Seokjin stops you.

Licking his lips, he seems to be preparing himself for something. You wait, letting him get his words in order. Finally, he meets your gaze and his face is set with determination.

“We’ve been through a lot. Had our ups and downs. Hell, we were apart for over 10 years. But somehow, despite everything, despite it seeming like we’d never see each other again. We found each other. Out of all the people in the world, we found each other again. On a beach where we had so many memories. And… and we’ve worked so hard for what we have now. I’m… God, I’m so grateful to have gotten another chance with you. I never even imagined this much. I would’ve been happy just being friends. Having you in my life again… Being able to love you again. It’s a chance I never thought I could have. A chance to do things right. To treat you the way you deserve…”

You smile when he trails off, threading your fingers with him. “I’m happy I found you again too.”

That seems to give him the confidence to go on. “I’ll spend my every waking moment ensuring you know just how loved you are. If you’ll let me. If you want me too.” He slips out of his seat, dropping to his knee beside you. Your heart skips a beat as you watch him with wide eyes. “Baby, Y/n… I love you so much. If you’ll let me, I’d want nothing more than to keep loving you for the rest of our lives.”

He pulls a small box out of his pocket, nearly fumbling it with nerves, and opens it to reveal a glittering ring. Tears gather in your eyes and you stumble out of your seat to wrap your arms around him.

“Yes, of course. God, how could I not want to marry you?”

Seokjin lets out a relieved breath, as if there was a possibility you’d say no. He’s absolutely mad if he thought you’d say no. You press a kiss to his lips, joy filling you. Seokjin kisses you for a long moment before pulling away and, with shaking fingers, pulls the ring free from the velvet to slip it onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit.

You smile at the ring. It’s so gorgeous. For a moment, you forget entirely about your own news. But then Seokjin is pulling the wine glasses from the table, holding yours out to you. Clearly intent on celebrating your engagement.

You stare at the glass for a long moment before slowly reaching out to take it. You chew your lip before setting the glass back on the table. Seokjin frowns in confusion, mouth opening to question your actions but you quickly shake your head.

“So… I have some news.” You fidget with your fingers and Seokjin is quick to set his own glass aside and take your hands in his, thumbs sweeping comfortingly over the skin of your palms. You take a deep breath and then bring his hands to your belly. They’re warm through the fabric of your dress. “I’m pregnant.”

Seokjin blinks at you, his face startlingly blank. Nerves creep in but after a moment of processing, Seokjin’s face is breaking out in the widest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

“Pregnant?” You nod. “We’re going to have a baby?”

He whoops with joy, pulling you into a tight embrace with such force that you nearly fall over, babbling about everything that you’ll have to do in the coming months.

It’s kind of funny. Back in high school and university, when you pictured your life together, it was nothing like what you have now. But somehow, despite the heartache, the distance, everything, it’s so much better than you imagined.

It’s perfect.

#bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #purplearmynet #btswritingcafe #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 4 years

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Bite to Break Skin {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Welcome to my first time writing for A/B/O dynamics, one of my absolute favorite things in fanfic. There’s so much potential and I’m definitely interested in exploring it with other characters! Just a small heads up, this one is pretty dialogue heavy throughout.

“C’mon,” he said as his breathing finally slowed, “we gotta get up.”

The fingers combing through his damp hair paused. “Can I wear your shirt?”

“You’ve been wearin’ ‘em for years, ain’t gonna stop you now, idiot,” he huffed as he peeled himself away from her, their skin tacky with sweat. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t be shitty to me, Katsuki, I have your virginity!”

“And I have yours. Even exchange. No reason to stop teasing you,” he grunted. Pulling her to her feet he guided her towards his bathroom with a hand on her lower back.

They cleaned up in easy silence, each of them still feeling the content fuzziness in their minds that now seemed amplified and even better than usual. At different points they briefly wondered if that was normal after losing their virginities.

Probably, they decided. For them it was a natural progression in their over two-year relationship. Having gotten together just after the provisional license exam in their first year their hero course schedules only got busier and they got less time to spend together between classes and training and work studies and internships. But those moments were coveted and left plenty of time for them to take their relationship at the perfect pace for them.

Two years of wandering hands and mouths had culminated that afternoon while the majority of the class had gone to the shopping district and neither of them could regret a single thing about it.

“Katsuki?”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded and expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” she smiled, fingers absently twisting the hem of his shirt that she wore.

“’Course you do,” he smirked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and returned them to his bed, the grey sheets rumpled. He bunched them down to the end of the mattress and laid down, pulling her to lie next to him curled into his side.

He was always so warm and she loved it, now especially as the chill of January lingered in the dorm hallways and throughout their rooms. Being close to him as they laid together was one of her favorite things about their relationship. As much as he seemed like a loner in their first weeks at UA she never believed it was true and once they were together behind closed doors he was happy as long as they had some sort of contact with each other. She’d never been prouder of being right than that day.

His attentiveness was something she knew would likely contribute heavily to his secondary gender when he presented in the future. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be an alpha, and an amazing one at that. His protective streak and pride in his own abilities couldn’t be attributed to any other presentation. While she herself was unsure of what she would present as, he had always promised that it didn’t matter.

“Alphas want omegas but I want you, and that means I get you no matter what we are,” he’d grumbled one evening not that long ago when she revealed her fears of presenting as a beta and not being what his alpha would need. “Secondary gender can go fuck itself if it thinks I’d leave you over some random omega. Shit, you don’t even know if I’d be an alpha anyway, dumbass.”

If she hadn’t been sure about him before, that conversation had cemented it in her mind and in her heart. Katsuki Bakugo was the one for her and it sent her heart into a tailspin to know that he felt the same way.

She pressed herself closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body and of her thoughts.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled against her forehead.

“So’re you.”

“Nah, your skin’s pink like you took one of your showers from hell.”

She huffed out a laugh. “’M fine, Katsuki. It’s ‘cause you’re warm and I’m still kinda hot from before.”

“You’re always hot,” he said with a pinch to the seat of her underwear.

“Just cuddle me, you ass.”

His arms tightened around her and they laid together in comfortable silence. At one point she started to doze against the warmth of Katsuki’s chest, one hand on his hip at the waistband of his sweats. She’d never felt safer.

In the middle of her dreamless nap she awoke to a persistent poking to her nose. When she opened her eyes, her boyfriend’s furrowed brow came into focus as she blinked. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“You’ve got a fever.”

She wanted to protest but the trails of sweat she could feel having trickled down her back was unmistakable. She definitely felt warm but she wasn’t disoriented or feeling sick.

“It’s like a full body fever,” Katsuki muttered, dropping his hand from her forehead.

“I feel really hot, but I don’t feel sick,” she told him, sleep leaving her as confusion took over.

He fisted the collar of the shirt she wore at the base of her neck, squeezing for just a moment before pulling back a glistening hand.

“Shirt’s soaked with sweat, take it off and I’ll get you one of my tanks,” he said, rolling out of bed and walking over to his drawers.

She peeled the sticky fabric from her skin, the feeling more uncomfortable than the fact that she was sitting topless once it was off. Nothing Katsuki hadn’t seen plenty of times after all.

A black tank top hit her chest before falling to her lap and she picked it up immediately, pressing her nose into the bundle. It’d barely been a minute since he left her side but she needed the comfort. Which is why when all she smelled was the scent of detergent her nose wrinkled.

“It doesn’t smell like you,” she complained, and he laughed from where he was straightening the other tank tops in his drawer.

“It’s clean, dumbass, I haven’t worn it yet. I’ll be next to you again in like two seconds anyway.”

“Hurry up,” she whined, slipping the tank top over her head and surprising him with her needy tone. “I haven’t smelled roasting chestnuts in almost two minutes, this is cruel. I even miss the little bit of sugar.”

He turned to her with furrowed brows. “I smell like that right now?”

“You smell like that all the time, ever since I’ve known you. What, you don’t know what your own cologne smells like anymore? You gone nose blind?”

He shook his head slowly. “My cologne is sandalwood. Always has been. The sugar I’ll give you because of my quirk but your perfume has nothing on that with your sweet cherries’n shit.”

Now it was her turn to be confused. “That’s not my perfume, Katsuki. My perfume is the same floral one I’ve worn since middle school, it’s not fruity or sweet at all. Come here, do I smell like that now?”

He crossed back over to the bed and sat in front of her, gently tugging her forward to press his nose into her hair. Her face tucked under his chin and she breathed in the same familiar scent.

“Sugared cherries just like always,” he muttered. “Do I…?”

“Mhm, roasted chestnuts with a pinch of sugar,” she replied almost dreamily. It was stronger than usual, but maybe that’s because she was concentrating on it. It felt like it was surrounding her and through her and it made her skin burn hotter. It was good. So so good, and she wanted and she needed more.

She pressed herself closer to him, his confused grunt falling on deaf ears until he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her from himself to look at her. He’d felt her skin grow warmer against his bare chest, the heat startling. But when he looked at her panic shot through him as she doubled over with a whimper.

He called her name but she didn’t answer, just clutched her stomach harder while curling further into herself and whining low in her throat.

“Alright, hey, hey, listen, okay? I’m calling Aizawa, he’ll help us figure out what’s wrong,” he tried to soothe, pulling her back into his chest. Her skin burned against his but he needed her to know he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere when she wasn’t alright.

It was awkward trying to reach his phone on the bedside table with her curled against him but he was hellbent on making her feel better and if that meant practically popping his shoulder out of its socket with the stretch so fucking be it.

“What’s wrong, Bakugo?” was the greeting he got and he immediately started listing off what was happening as she continued to tremble in his lap.

“She’s burning up to the point I feel like I’m touching an oven and she—”

“Todoroki’s still in the dorms, call him up and have—”

“NO!” he snarled into the phone. “He doesn’t need to be near her, just tell me how I can help her! She’s in fucking pain and nearly incoherent right now! You’re not fucking helping me!”

Aizawa was silent for a long moment. “Bakugo, where are you two?”

“We’re in my dorm and I’d appreciate if you could save the damn lecture for when she’s actually conscious enough to fuckin’ hear it too.”

“How long has she been like this? What was she doing when she started feeling the fever? Is there anything that’s—”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t know! An hour or so and we were just here, she was asleep while I scrolled through my phone.”

Aizawa’s tone went knowing as he prompted, “And before that?”

He weighed his options for answering. They were already in shit for her being on the boys’ side of the dorms, how much worse could it be? They were consenting adults and they were responsible about it and if it did help figure out why she was—

“That’s what I thought,” Aizawa sighed before he could decide how to answer. “I can’t be there to help but I’m sending Recovery Girl. Try and keep her comfortable until she arrives.”

When the line went dead, he could only mumble out curses as he dropped his phone and kept her pressed against him. Her little noises of pain had lessened and she didn’t feel as tightly coiled in his arms as she had, but he was still worried. At least the old lady might actually be able to do something.

“Well I must hand it to Aizawa,” Recovery Girl chuckled as she pulled the thermometer from her lips, “the man does know his students.”

“The hell are you laughing for?” Bakugo hissed. He had been pacing back and forth while she examined her, hovering close and getting more frustrated by the moment. Sure, his girlfriend didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment but he wanted whatever caused it to be taken care of now.

“Don’t take that tone with me, boy, you may be an alpha but I won’t be disrespected.”

He did a double take, sputtering, “An alpha? I’m eighteen, I haven’t presented!”

She smiled in amusement. “Not fully, no, but you’re both presenting as we speak. Fated mates can present at an earlier age when establish an intimate connection prior to turning twenty. It likely hit her first being an omega and that pulled you over too. I must say I’m a bit surprised as fated mates are quite rare at your age, though maybe even more so that this took so long. It’s admirable of you children to take things slow but when I was your age—”

“We’re fated mates?” she murmured, breaking the older woman’s rambling. “So we…?”

“Quite a spin on the high school sweetheart’s trope wouldn’t you say? Certainly a story for the pups.”

“Wait, so she’s burning up because…” he trailed off as his cheeks flushed pink. “This is…”

“Yes, yes, this is her heat beginning and your rut will follow, keep up boy. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail on that—”

“NO!” they shouted together, mortified.

She laughed, high pitched and maniacal. “Oh alright, I’ve had my fun. You children are so easy to poke at these days. But I do suppose we need to get you prepared for the next week or so. Dear, make a list of things you’ll need from your room and Bakugo will go fetch them for you.”

“I can’t just go myself?”

“Look at that boy’s face and tell me he’s alright with you leaving his den.”

Of course when she looked to him Katsuki’s face was contorted into an angry grimace, his lips twitching back to bare his teeth.

“Just tell me what you need,” he ground out, and she quickly rattled off everything she could think of that she may possibly need. Without a word he disappeared through the door, a lingering touch to her hand a silent promise to return quickly so as to soothe any worries of abandonment or actions that could be interpreted as rejection by her inner omega.

Recovery Girl turned the chair towards her and grabbed her bag from the floor. “We have a few things to discuss now, dear.”

She went over the arrangements made by Aizawa for their classes and schoolwork as well as daily drop offs of prepared bento boxes for them since they wouldn’t be leaving Bakugo’s room. Their parents had been contacted which sent a fresh wave of nausea through her for reasons other than the heat, but she was assured that it wasn’t as a punishment since they were both eighteen. Still, she could only image the conversation she would hear at the end of her heat when she heard from home.

Expectations of what would happen during the shared heat and rut were next and she while she was sure her face couldn’t get any hotter, she was proven wrong. As awkward as it was though, at least she was talking it over with another woman; having the same conversation with Aizawa would have killed her.

Finally, it seemed that the verbal torture was finished as Recovery Girl reached into her medical bag with one hand and beckoned her closer with the other.

“Let me see your arm, I need to give you a preventative injection.”

“Ah, I uhm,” she stuttered, cheeks still reddened but not from the heat, “I’m already taking…”

Recovery Girl shook her head with a chuckle. “Presenting alters your existing biology by releasing additional hormones which awaken parts of your mind and body that contribute to the primal instincts of your secondary gender. Generic contraceptive methods would be fine for a newly presented beta but as an omega the hormones released at presentation boost your fertility to a point where the pill may as well be candy for all the prevention it does.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now unless you and that boy of yours have decided that you want pups within the year I need to give you this.” The syringe was brandished in front of her.

She held out her arm and she cleaned the area with a swab before feeling the familiar prick to her skin and the cold chill spread into her heated blood.

“Any last questions for me before he gets back?”

She went to shake her head but paused. “Just… what about our quirks?”

“Nothing to worry about, dear. Quirks take a backseat during these times unless a threat arises. Once bonded you will kill and die for the other and your pups, but for right now you two shouldn’t have an issue. I’d say ‘won’t’ but I think we both know your class has a habit of finding trouble, hm?”

“More like trouble finds us,” came a grunt from the doorway.

Katsuki reentered the room with her laundry basket on his hip and a tote bag over his shoulder. He visibly relaxed as he crossed the threshold and set her things on the floor at the foot of his bed.

She sat down on the plush area rug to go through what he’d brought, her legs tucked beneath her as Recovery Girl began speaking to him about the upcoming week like she’d done for her.

Rifling through the laundry basket she pulled out her pillows and blankets as well as her favorite hoodies, then she pulled everything out of the tote and put those sweaters and shirts onto Katsuki’s bed. Once everything was piled atop his sheets she began to sort through everything, enjoying the familiar smell of her own things mixing with the scent of Katsuki’s den. She hoped he would scent a few of his shirts and let her use his pillows and blankets for her nest.

“…and once you know the heat and rut have passed I’d like you to give me a call so I can come and assess you two.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, his cheeks burning from the conversation as he took the offered slip of paper with her number. He’d never been more relieved to have a conversation end, and as soon as the door closed behind the terrible old bat he turned back to his girlfriend and his heart nearly stopped.

She was absently arranging his sheets with some of what he’d brought from her dorm to make the beginnings of her nest. Their combined scents filled his room to an almost dizzying potency but he had never felt more alive, more proud, and his inner alpha growled happily in his chest. Here was his mate, his omega, building a sweet-smelling nest in his den for the two of them and their pups.

The thought of pups broke through the haze of his instincts to allow nerves to set it. They were only eighteen and just about to finish their last few months at UA before becoming fully licensed heroes. Having pups wasn’t something they could do, at least… at least not now.

Recovery Girl had mentioned the preventative and rationally he knew that she wouldn’t give them something designed to fail and he was grateful for that but at the same time, he’d love to have pups with his mate. She was everything he could ever imagine wanting in a partner and he knew his mate would be the best mother to his pups. He’d thought so long before they presented and he was sure he’d think it until he took his last breath.

Her soft voice brought him out of his musings as she looked up at him through her lashes and shyly asked, “Could you… scent a few of your shirts and sweaters? For the nest?”

“’Course,” he replied, and seeing her eyes flicker towards his discarded pillows added, “You can use anything of mine. We’re mates.”

The heat-induced flush on her cheeks darkened slightly with embarrassment, but she nudged his pillow towards him anyway. He grabbed it and held it in his hands feeling both uncharacteristically anxious about scenting something for the first time and filled with pride at his mate seeking out his scent for her nest.

As he scented different things for her and she took them to construct their home for the next week or so he could see the flush fading little by little and he saw less sweat droplets running down her hairline. It was almost as if the larger and more structured the nest grew the tamer her inner omega became. That soothed him too, making him thankful for the calm before the storm of her first heat really began and pulled his rut to the forefront with it.

He leaned against the far wall as she worked in silence arranging their things into the what he assumed was a perfect nest—he didn’t know much about omega nesting instincts but it looked inviting enough to him that he had no qualms about spending the next week tangled with her in the textile haven. It was as if the movement she caused sent more of that sweet smell of hers wafting through the room and he could’ve sworn the sugary scent was getting stronger by the moment.

With a few last cursory pats to the sweatshirt walls she looked up at him.

"Do you think we'll lose ourselves in the heat and rut?" she asked quietly, shifting from foot to foot.

Katsuki sighed. "That's what happens with most people."

"You know, I… I knew you were it for me a long time ago, Katsuki. This morning is an amazing memory and I guess, even if this is how we get to spend the rest of our lives I'd like to remember this first too."

"Then maybe we can bond before it fully hits. I can… smell that it's going to hit hard again and that you're already feeling it creep up.”

The slick feeling between her thighs meant he was probably right. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I guess I'm just nervous."

"Hey, I know this whole thing became way bigger than either of us thought but I’m still me—the alpha part doesn’t change that. Shit I couldn’t even think of hurting you without wanting to die before, can you imagine what type of insufferably sweet asshole I’m gonna be now?” he asked with only mild disgust as he crossed his room to lay one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek.

The smile he received was worth the uncomfortable admission of his feelings; reassurance wasn’t his forte and sharing his feelings even less so but he’d always try for her.

“I know, and I’m happy you’re the one I get to be with.”

“C’mon, your nest looks good,” he said, easing her forward towards his bed. “We able to get in it yet?”

She kissed his cheek. “Yeah, let’s get in our nest, alpha.”

The shudder was hard for him to suppress, but he allowed her to pull him into the plush space where they laid together once more. They laid on their sides facing one another and Katsuki reached out to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand where it lay between them.

It was an unspoken agreement to take all the time they could before allowing themselves to indulge in the instincts of their new secondary genders, and they spoke quietly about what it all meant for them.

Mates were more permanent than marriage and fated mates even more so. The idea of claiming bites at only eighteen was daunting but at the same time it was always the plan anyway. Of course they knew they’d present but that seemed far off and more inconsequential the longer they were together prior to a few hours ago. They had their after-graduation plans and a claim had been a mutual desire, and even pups sometime in the far future. Secondary gender, as Katsuki had loved to point out, wouldn’t change that.

But with the presentations occurring and revealing them as an alpha/omega pair there were still some things that hadn’t been discussed or planned for, and they needed to be addressed.

“I’m getting warmer,” she murmured.

“We’ve got a long week ahead of us but it’s nothing we can’t handle,” he smirked.

She gave him a weak smile and pushed past her nerves to bring up what had been on her mind since her talk with Recovery Girl.

"Will… will you…?"

"If you want to, we can bond now while we're still mostly clear-headed. Some shit I’d like to remember too, you know?"

Her cheeks went pink. "No—well, yes that's probably a good idea but I… I'm… will you actually knot me?"

He choked on his tongue. "Fuck, shit, do you want me to? Do I need to? For your heat?"

"I don’t— Don't you need it to get through your rut?"

"It's… I don't want to make the decision for you, alright? If you want me to I will and if you don’t I won’t. ‘S always your choice.”

She rolled onto her side to face him, one hand rising up to trace his cheekbone and the slope of his nose, even the dip of his cupid’s bow until she came to a stop at his chin. She pressed lightly and he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything like that. It’s all just very sudden and a lot to wrap my head around, you know? Six hours ago we were virgins and now we’re literally together for life. That’s not bad, just a lot.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “But it’s why I want you to make the call. I ain’t gonna force you to do something you don’t want. We got forever to figure our shit out.”

She laughed. “Yeah we do. For now though, I want you to. We’re gonna bond today and then heatshare, rutshare, and get tied together for the next week. This morning was amazing and now that we know we’re fated mates I think that’s gonna make it even better.”

“Once is all it took to get you addicted, huh?”

“Shut up!” she whined as she pushed against his shoulder and turned away with a blush. His loud laughter echoed throughout his room and she crossed her arms with a pout.

“Oi. Look at me.”

She rolled onto her side to face him again, lips still pouted cutely. His eyes were soft as he looked over her face and she felt proud of the small smile upturning his mouth as he did.

He reached out to smooth a hand over her hair and then gently nudged her shoulder. “Lie back.”

She moved onto her back and he settled himself over her, lying between her parted legs. It was familiar and made her smile; they’d laid together like this a hundred times over the course of their relationship and maybe it was the perfect way to cross into something more permanent.

“Katsuki,” she murmured, feeling his hands go below the tank top. He pushed it up and over her head, tossing it to the side and fixing her with an unwavering gaze.

His hands slid beneath her, pressed between her body and the sheets below, and he kissed her softly. Her hands slid up his back before settling over the solid muscle of his shoulders.

“’M gonna be the best alpha on the fuckin’ planet,” he said as they pulled apart. His lips ghosted over her cheek and down her jaw to settle at her neck. “Know I already got the best omega.”

“Will you say it?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes.

The huff of a laugh and curl of his lips on her skin made her shiver. He moved in closer to her and raised up to whisper exactly what she wanted.

“I love you.”

Her arms tightened around him and tried pulling him closer but she knew it would never feel like enough until they bonded.

Katsuki seemed to understand that too because he moved back to her neck and grazed his lips teasingly for just a second before sinking his teeth into the perfect spot as a claim.

She gasped as her head tipped back at the rush of sensations that seemed to flow from the bite. Her brain filled with static but her body felt a rush of coldness like ice water had been poured over her to combat the heat she’d been feeling for so long. Her heart sped up in her chest and she knew it was synched perfectly with Katsuki’s. The entirety of her being was aligned with his and the bond cemented as she let herself move forward and bite into her mate’s neck to stake her own claim.

Time seemed to speed up before slowing down again when she was tasting blood off of both her and Katsuki’s lips as his hands cradled her face and kissed her deeply. The coolness she had experienced during the claim had been almost completely swallowed by the heat she felt pulsing through her and becoming tangible as a needy whine against his mouth. He was so close and smelled so perfect and she wondered if she could feel him closer, her hands digging into the defined muscles of his shoulders as she held him against her.

“Look at my pretty mate,” he said lowly, his voice hushed. He nosed against the underside of her jaw just above the fresh bite as his hands roamed over her torso. “My omega, smellin’ so sweet just for me.”

The purr that bubbled from her lips surprised her but his warm hands on her and the quiet praise pushed it aside quickly when he kneaded her chest.

Her hands traced over his arms, fingers trailing down over dips of muscle. “The strongest alpha I know is all mine. I’m so lucky to have such a handsome mate.”

A please growl rumbled through his chest as her fingers hooked in his waistband and began sliding down the sweatpants until he was able to kick them off. He quickly returned the favor with her underwear to leave them both completely bare. With their scents completely unhindered for the first time with the bond formed, they could both smell the heavy, warm sweetness of roasted chestnuts and cherries that filled his dorm room. It was spicy but soft and made their heads spin knowing that this was them.

Katsuki’s hands roamed the familiar curves of her body as he leaned forward to kiss around the bite mark, feeling her lips against his neck as she did the same to him. Shivers ran up his spine at the contact and a groan escaped him as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs.

“Tell me what you need.”

She whined, hands splayed on his toned stomach.

“C’mon, tell your alpha what you need,” he coaxed.

“You,” she whispered. “Your knot. Your pups. Our pups.”

When we’re ready, was the silent understanding about the request.

Their hips met as Katsuki rolled his forward, breathy moans coming from both of them as they relished the still-new feeling of intimacy and clutched onto one another tighter.

Instincts took over, cutting the moment short, and filled with room with groans and whines and pleas between the two of them. There was no slow fumbling like there had been earlier but instead the primal need to be closer and chase the pleasure that came with the heat and rut.

She kissed him hard as the heat throughout her body pooled low in her stomach and she could tell the difference in the feeling of closeness but her hazy mind couldn’t dwell on it past knowing that this was what she needed, what would finally cool her down at least a bit.

“You’re mine,” she murmured as her back arched up from the bed and her nails dug into his shoulders.

“’M yours. You’re mine,” he grunted, mouthing at the bite once more.

Their scents were overwhelming the closer they came to their end.

“C’mon alpha, need your knot,” she whined, crying out as he still within her.

His teeth sank into the bond mark fully again, and she bit into his as she felt exactly what her inner omega needed, what she herself wanted, and allowed herself to succumb to the feeling of contentment and pleasure she would live in with her mate going forward. Warm and sated and full and safe with her alpha was where she wanted to stay.

“Bakugo. A word.”

He stalked over to his teacher, watching his mate step into the hallway from the corner of his eye. The new bond was sensitive and he was anxious when he couldn’t be with her. “What?”

“May I ask which of you proposed the idea of a non-traditional bite?”

“The hell are you talking about? We both have bites and they’re scarring the right way.”

Aizawa regarded him silently for a moment before waving him off. “It’s not important. Go.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and left the room, and he gathered his sleeping bag in his arms to set up in the corner for his midday nap.

It was annoying and awkward to have to deal with the paperwork and phone calls to guardians because two of his problem children couldn’t keep it in their pants while on campus—what he wouldn’t give to have seen Mitsuki Bakugo deal with this shit—and he certainly didn’t like the fact that he had to relay to the class what had happened either. He had prepared what would’ve been one of his best punishments to date for when the overwhelming scent of newly presented and bonded mates had lessened at least a bit, but it had all been abandoned the moment the two stepped up to speak with him.

Her embarrassment was obvious, the fact that her twice her age male teacher knew exactly what had been happening in that room for the past week probably enough to make her want to vomit, but furious blush aside she held herself well. Bakugo had (likely somewhat unintentionally) over scented the room alarmingly with equal parts calm for his mate and warning to his alpha teacher, his own blush prominent.

What stood out though, was the bond mark on her neck. It was already scarring which was to be expected and its placement was correct but it was backwards. Traditionally a bond mark was given to an omega by an alpha in the midst of a shared heat and rut, primal positioning meaning that the bite was given from behind. It was biology, instinct, the overwhelming need to lay claim—he understood that, had experienced it many times over even long after a bond mark was given. Fated mates were more susceptible to this too, especially when presenting early.

But this type of bonding mark made him think that it wasn’t fueled by that need or desire built deep into the rumbling chest of an alpha. At least, not completely. Looking into someone’s eyes was intimate, vulnerabilities laid bare before the person they’re going to spend their life with. That wasn’t easy, and a week prior he would’ve said that Bakugo would probably never be able to do it. To see that it was quite the opposite and seemingly unconscious on his part was fascinating.

He considered that instinct wasn’t the reason but the more he thought about it as he sat cocooned within the warmth of his sleeping bag, the more he realized it may actually be the opposite. Maybe it was instinct. Love was funny like that sometimes.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I have a few ideas about a possible sequel for this story that would take place in the future when they’re ready, though nothing concrete just yet!

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

Text

Love brewed

so tumblr had a meltdown and deleted this after I had already queued it so I’m sorry the ask got lost but this is a cute sero confession!

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,300 (bout)

summary:

Sero had fallen in love with you the first time he saw you. He had just moved out of the UA dorms and to his own apartment. He was excited to be out on his own finally and to be a pro making the world a better place. According to Google, there was a coffee shop just a few blocks away and he definitely deserved a nice cup of coffee after unpacking all morning. There was a light drizzle but it wasn’t anything too bad so he pulled his hood up and headed off to Love Brewed Cafe.

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who wanted something to drink, the little hole in the wall shop was practically full when he walked in. Sero was just pulling down his hood when you turned to look at him a big welcoming smile on your face. And his heart stopped dead in his chest.

“Welcome! Order whenever you’re ready!” you chirped from behind the counter, leaving him stunned. You were easily the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and he could feel the heat rush to his face. He nodded, not sure he could trust his mouth to do the talking.

Sero realized he was staring and quickly diverted his eyes up to the menu. He calmed down and instantly he felt stupid for getting so worked up over just some barista, He walked to the counter and he looked back at you. Fuck.

“Uhm just a large black coffee please,” he stammered.

“Sure no problem! Can I get a name for that?”

“Sero,”

“Perfect, I’ll call for you when it’s ready go ahead and take a seat, er if you can find one that is,” you laughed. Sero just nodded again, hoping his red blush wasn’t too obvious.

The cafe was crowded but he managed to find an open table near the window and he immediately pulled out his phone to text Kaminari.

Sero: cute barista a block away from my new place, I’m already planning our future children’s names and I’ve only talked to them once.

Kaminari: Damn do they have a nice ass?

Sero: they’re behind a counter I can’t tell

Kaminari: damn :/ ask if they’re single and or if they have a cute friend

Sero: I m not going to harass them at work

Kaminari: pussy

“Black coffee for Sero!” you called making him jump, he quickly ran up and got his drink before going back to the small table he staked out.

He looked down at the cup, at his name written in your cute handwriting, and remembered he didn’t even like black coffee.

Sero went to Love Brewed every day, it just became part of his routine, He didn’t always see you, but he made the most out of it when he did. It was a lot easier to talk to you after the first day and as it turned out the two of you had a lot in common.

You were a college student about his age and worked part-time here to help pay for classes. You told him about your quirk about your family about the school, everything, and Sero loved to listen.

If it wasn’t busy and you didn’t have anything else to do you would come to sit with him while he drank his coffee, otherwise Sero just leaned against the counter while you talked.

Every time he got the chance to talk to you Kaminari was the first to know about it, Sero was sure that he was getting sick of hearing about you, and Sero’s refusal to ask you out but Hanta really didn’t mind playing the waiting game.

“Wait so you’re really a hero? That’s so cool! Why did you never tell me, we have a Hero discount you know?” you asked amazed. Sero Shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

“It never came up, besides I don’t mind paying full price,” he said with a shrug. You pushed him playfully making him laugh

“I can not believe you let me rant about my dumb professors when you probably have all sort of crazy hero stories!” you shouted. Sero could practically hear Kaminari screaming in his ear to brag, brag like his life depended on it. So he did, He liked watching your eyes go wide as he talked about some of his more dangerous fights.

“Wow that’s incredible,” you said breathily,

“Well, if you ever need a hero to do some saving I guess you know who to call,” he teased

“How am I supposed to do that when I don’t have your number,” you said and again he could hear the Kaminari in his head screaming.

“We can change that,” he said. You shoved your phone in his face almost before he had a chance to finish.

“Is it alright if I text you for nonemergencies?” you asked

“Of course,” Sero said a little too quickly.

“Then I will,” you promised. And you did, later that night he got a text from an unknown number with an image attached.

Unknown: staying safe hero boy? Also here’s a picture for my profile.

Then you sent a cute selfie of you sitting on your couch in a big sweater.

Sero: cute

(y/n): thank you thank you I try

(y/n): do I not get a selfie back?

Sero: give me a minute it just got out of the shower

(y/n): 👀👀👀

Sero paused for a moment, He could send you a shirtless picture, that’s what Kaminari would do, but that might be too forward, wouldn’t it? There would be no denying it was flirting, it might ruin your friendship. But that’s what he was doing right? Flirting. Every time he complimented your work uniform or made you laugh it was because he liked you right? Sero went the coward’s way.

Sero: perv.

He threw on a shirt and snapped a pic to send back. He still looked good, his hair was wet and hanging in kind of a sexy way and his skin was flushed was kind of hot, so he sent it.

Sero: for you

(y/n): cute

Sero ended up texting you a lot more than he thought he would, every morning the first thing he did was check his phone to see if you had texted him in the night and if he had a spare moment during patrol he’d send you a picture of him hanging upsidedown from a lamp post and you texted him when you were bored in class. It made his heart pound every time.

“Just ask her out already,” Kaminari groaned leaning over Sero’s shoulder reading the texts.

“Fuck off, I’m working on it,” Sero grumbled.

“What’s holding you back? They’re single, right? Just do it!” Kaminari barked. Before Sero could snap back an alarm went off and both of them were too busy to think much about Sero’s love life.

What was holding him back anyway? He liked you. A lot. So much in fact that he hadn’t even thought about someone else romantically since the two of you met, and it seemed like you liked him too. At least you were always up to message him and unless he was reading too much into things it seemed that your smile was just a little brighter for him than anyone else.

Of course, he knew the answer. He was scared. Sero had never been anyone’s first pick why would he be yours? He was used to rejection at this point but that didn’t make it sting any less. He didn’t want to ask you out only to see a sour expression cross your face when he told you that he loved you. But he should still tell you.

Sero argued back and forth with himself until he decided. He was going to tell you the next time he saw you, no backing out.

“Hey Hanta!” you greeted cheerfully when you saw him come through the door. You already had his regular ready for him. He smiled and greeted you at the counter paying for his drink and taking the cup.

“Your shift ends at three today right?” he asked

“Yeah, why?”

“If you’re not doing anything I thought we could go out together and do something fun,” He said trying to sound casual even though his heart was beating out of his chest.

“I’d love that Hanta,”

#Sero Hanta #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #sero x you #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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ramblingkat · 3 years

Text

More Bleach fic. Whee!

Soulmates AU, and a Time Travel AU. What fun!

This was a spur of the moment fun thing. Hope you enjoy. I’m pretty sure there will be more of this.

***

It was a lovely morning out. Far too early to be up, but Kisuke knew that Tessai-san would frown at him he slept too late. Not when they had the shop to open for the morning crowds. Especially when Tessai-san himself still had to come back from his overnight trip to get new merchandise.

It may seem deserted most of the day, but since Kisuke tended to sell older styles of candies and treats as well as stuff absolutely nobody wanted, he got some of the elderly people who were out and about in the late morning to visit with each other.

Unexpected, and while he had set this shop up so that nobody would bother him, even he didn’t have the heart to take away a place that these people seemed to love.

Life was too short for humans to steal little pleasures from them.

Kisuke was a monster, but he wasn’t as heartless as he liked to pretend to be. Life would be much easier if he was.

Right now, though, it was that soft part of the morning, where the birds were still waking up and the air was sticky with the cool of the night. Kisuke rarely saw this time of day. Unless he did what he did last night and simply choose to not go to bed.

In theory, he should be sweeping, and there were slow, lazy movements of the broom as he shuffled his way along the porch. Maybe he should look into getting some assistants to help with stuff like this.

He was lost in the thoughts of how one might go around getting help for the shoten when there was a tiny tug at the hem of his haori. The man froze, startled that someone had managed to sneak up on him like that, and Kisuke turned his head, looking for the source of that tug.

On the ground by the porch, was a tiny little boy. He was five, and looking up at Kisuke with the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen.

Kisuke knew for a fact the age of the boy, because he had seen the child right after birth, to make sure that the new member of the Kurosaki family was in good health.

The baby had been a torrent of power then, but now he was…. Well, not invisible. There was still too much power coming off him for that, now that Kisuke was focused. But he blended into the world around him.

That was a mystery, one he’d investigate later.

Right now, he was more curious why Kurosaki Ichigo was now hugging his leg.

Masaki and Isshin were nowhere close. When he focused, he could feel their reiastu, even Isshin’s muted one, smooth in quiet waves of what felt like sleep. Oh ho, seemed as if someone had done a bit of an escape.

Kisuke patted the bright orange hair, still uncertain why he was being hugged like he was. “Hello,” he said, not sure what else he was supposed to do here. “How did such a little boy ended up in front of my shop so early?”

Ichigo’s arms tightened more around Kisuke’s leg, and he rubbed his face against the man’s knee. Which surely couldn’t be comfortable. But Kisuke was distracted as he looked at the boy.

Something was...different.

Then Ichigo tried to get up on the porch, offering his hands up so that Kisuke could help him. Seeing no reason not to, Kisuke did just that.

The touch of skin to skin made a shiver of power spike up Kisuke’s arm, and he almost dropped the boy back to the ground. Something in him refused that, and he ended up scooping Ichigo up into his arms.

Against his shoulderblade, something burned, and from the way Ichigo hissed, he felt it as well.

Ah, this was how Kisuke was going to die. Something told him that Masaki was not going to be pleased to find matching marks on her five-year-old son and a man several centuries older than that. Isshin would grumble, but he didn’t have any room to talk. Kisuke remembered how old Masaki was when she and Isshin met. To souls of their age, a decade or so was not really all that different.

Reluctantly, Kisuke set Ichigo down. The little boy whined and latched back onto Kiuske’s leg, refusing to let go. It took some time for Kisuke to get the boy to release him, and that was only accomplished by promising to be right back.

Not that Kisuke planned on being gone long. He just stepped into his room at the back of the shop to sent a message to Masaki, as she was the more sensible of the pair. She could come collect her little escapee, and Kisuke could go have a minor meltdown in the training area.

As he headed back to the porch, Kisuke heard a small scraping sound. When he peeked out, he saw Ichigo trying to hold the adult sized broom that Kisuke had been using. He looked up, rumbling with the broom a moment, then scowled at Kisuke.

It was absolutely adorable.

“Gotta finish your chores,” the little boy said, trying to use the broom again. Kisuke had to cover his mouth, and used a stealthy bit of kido to save the image. He could transfer it to other material later.

“Ah, forgive me, Kurosaki-san. Let me get something and I can do that.”

For some reason, the brooms Tessai-san preferred came with smaller ones. Less full broom and more of a spot check broom, for getting in smaller spots.

Perfect for tiny hands.

Which was why, when a frantic Masaki arrived, she found Ichigo and Kiuske sweeping the porch together. Ichigo was talking all about his baby sisters, and Kisuke was nodding as if this was the most important information he had ever been told.

Masaki was not certain she trusted Kisuke fully. She liked him well enough, and he had helped save her life, so that got him a certain amount of leeway. But something about him meant she kept one eye on the man when she was physically near him.

And definitely when he was near her son.

But Ichigo, who finally spotted her, smiled when he saw her. “Momma! I found him! I found the man in my dream!”

As he spoke, Ichigo grabbed Kisuke’s hand and was pulling him over for Masaki to meet. She looked up at Kisuke, who seemed to be as honestly confused as she was.

“You and I are going to talk about you leaving without permission,” Masaki told her son, who pouted at her, and refused to let go of Kisuke’s hand. Then Masaki looked at Kisuke. “What is he talking about?”

Kisuke got the shifty look that she was definitely wary of. “There may have been a small situation after Kurosaki-chan here decided to invite himself to my home today.”

“He’s mine,” Ichigo stated. “For always.”

“Maybe we should go inside and talk,” Kisuke offered. “If you think that Isshin-san is able to take care of your daughters without you.”

Masaki grimace. “Let’s make this quick.”

When Masaki and Ichigo left, much to the protest of the latter, Kisuke was still alive, had all of his limbs, and a promise of a future conversation.

He also had a picture, which was carefully set aside. The image of a little figure with orange hair, and a green man with a stripy hat, each of them with something he thought was supposed to be brooms, smiled back at Kisuke from the paper. It made something in him go all warm, and it was perfect blackmail material for later.

After all, eventually, his soulmate would get older, and Kisuke would be able to whip out this picture then. He could just imagine the annoyed face he’d get.

Something to look forward to.

#Bleach #Urahara Kisuke #Kurosaki Ichigo #Kurosaki Masaki #Crackish?#Time Travel AU #Soulmate AU #I like my AUs

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bettertomorrows-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Are You My Mother?

Ellie is frantic. Dina is amused. JJ has some questions.

JJ stays still in Ellie’s arms and his teeny voice is muffled when he says, “Max said you’re not my real mom so we’re not a real family and that you only fake love me.”

Tags: Post-Game, Family Fluff Rating: Teen for language

EllieDina Week // Day 4 // FAMILY

---

It’s almost sundown when Ellie gets a visitor at work.

Her office is a medium-sized shack located near the stables of the main gate, a perfect place to house all the paperwork she needs in order to facilitate her new role as the patrol manager. Ellie had originally argued with Maria that the chore didn’t even exist, that it seemed like a feeble arrangement to give her a task somewhat similar to what she was used to just so she could still feel useful around town.

Maria admitted to some truth to Ellie’s point, but she also insisted that she would love for Ellie to start learning to ropes of leading the town. There was a buried emphasis in her request that suggested Maria only trusted Ellie to be the one to succeed her role in the future. That Ellie was already deeply embedded in the tangled mess of a family the Miller brothers left them with—and implication was what led Ellie to accept the job on the spot.

Managing patrol rotations is not the laid-back kind of job Ellie thought it would be.

It’s far more stressful than what Maria initially described it would be, but it’s a task that keeps her on her toes on a daily basis. It was hard to believe it at first, but rescheduling patrol rotations sometimes felt like hugging an exploding bloater. Not to mention how balancing patrollers with the right partners oftentimes resembled the act of gathering sheep into a barn. One wrong move, and a stray could lead the pack in the wrong direction.

Jackson’s townsfolk always knew she would have the job in the future, anyway. There was a tacit understanding that regardless of the complications of their familial relations, Maria’s niece would one day take over the duty of leading Jackson. It was never a question of whether it would ever happen, but more of when Ellie would feel comfortable to take on these responsibilities.

It came as a surprise to those who personally knew her—that Ellie would start making her way up before she was even in her thirties. Most of them thought they would have to wrench a 100-year-old Ellie away from patrolling duties, so to have her willingly take a job inside Jackson’s walls was a bit unnerving.

The desk job isn’t as exciting, but it’s definitely enough work to keep her busy throughout the week. Her favourite part of the job was toward the end of the day. When her last task was to wait for the afternoon patrols to come back home, and she spent the time quietly drafting ways to adjust routes for possible expansions to the town. Nothing felt better than to wrap up a workday with a glint of hope for a better future for her son.

Ellie is knee deep in concentration, head down studying a map and ready to sketch out a new patrol route when a knock on the door breaks her focus. It’s Andres, Dina’s new apprentice at the electric shop, a gangly young man whose family recently moved to Jackson. His presence immediately makes Ellie panic. They’ve only met three times since Dina hired him, and their interactions have been cordial at best. So, what else could warrant his appearance at her office at the end of the day if it weren’t for something urgent?

“Hey, uh… Ellie. A-are you busy?” he croaks out, Ellie can tell he’s nervous, but what for she’s not sure yet.

“Andres, right?” she asks hoping to calm his nerves even though she knows exactly who he is, “what’s up?”

“D-dina sent me t-to tell you to please… go to her house as soon as pos-possible once you’re finished with work,” Andres stutters out, making Ellie all the more concerned.

Ellie stands up from her desk and promptly grabs her coat from the chair, “did something happen? Is she hurt? Is JJ okay?”

She tries to calm herself enough to hear a response from him. Whatever it was must have not been too terrible, because if something dire had indeed happened to her family, there is no way Maria would have sent this semi-stranger to send the news.

“Oh! I don’t—um…” the young man stutters and brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck, “she didn’t say. I’m just a messenger.”

With her jacket half worn on her back, Ellie looks down to the scattered papers on the desk and then to the clock on the wall. She only had 30 minutes left before the last patrol shift returned and reported back to her. Ellie was not one to ever leave her post early, but she was unfortunately not immune to whatever nervous energy Andres passed on to her.

The whole situation was terrifyingly curious, and she had to get to her family to find out what was happening. Ellie scribbles a note on a torn piece of paper, neatly folds it, and hands it to noticeably anxious Andres.

“Since you’re a messenger and all… can you quickly send this to Maria for me, please?”

Ellie tries not to sprint to Dina’s house. She doesn’t want to alarm anybody in town, so she ends up speed walking instead. In hindsight, sprinting would have probably looked way less ridiculous than the quick shimmy her hips do when she makes herself walk fast.

The thought comes too late. Dina’s house is already in view when she decides to run the rest of the way.

Ellie pauses on the porch to catch her breath. She knocks on the door twice before she curses to herself. Why is she knocking when she has a key to the door? Ellie digs in her pockets for the familiar shape of the metal when the door swings wide open.

“Did you forget your key again?”

Ellie looks up and releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Dina is leaning on the door frame with a smirk on her face. She looks perfect as ever and all Ellie can’t stop herself from hugging her right away. Relief floods her senses when she feels Dina reciprocate, her arms wrapping tightly around Ellie’s waist.

“Are you fine? Like, you’re not hurt?” Ellie whispers into her ear.

“Yes? Is this a trick question? Why?” Dina is puzzled by Ellie’s panic-stricken face and leads them into the house.

“Andres said I had to come home, and he was all nervous and twitchy, so I freaked out and kind of ran here,” Ellie admits before adding, “wait, what about JJ? Is he safe too?”

Dina eyes Ellie as if gauging to see if she was being pranked. When she realizes that Ellie was serious, she laughs and gives Ellie a quick peck on the lips.

“JJ’s upstairs doing homework, but babe, you do know Andres has a speech impediment, right? Like, it’s a medical condition, it doesn’t mean he’s actually nervous,” Dina chuckles when Ellie finally realizes that there was actually nothing to worry about.

“A speech impediment? You mean to say I got nervous for nothing?” Ellie takes a step back to shrug her jacket off her shoulders.

“Mhm,” Dina agrees, and takes Ellie’s jacket to hang on the coat rack by the door.

“So, what was so urgent you sent you lackey out to fetch me?” Ellie tilts her head to the side, still so apparently confused by everything.

“Well… your son—” Dina starts but Ellie interrupts her.

“Oh no. What did he do?”

Dina points up to the stairs, “your son picked a fight at school today.”

Ellie’s eyes bulge out in amazement, “Potato picked a fight? But… he’s only five years old!”

“That’s what I thought!” Dina shrugs, “but then I remembered who his parents are and then I realized that the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree.”

“Holy fuck, you didn’t not just say that,” Ellie laughs.

“I literally just sounded like my mother,” Dina groans.

“Seriously, though,” Ellie asks, treading carefully but not without a smirk on her lips, “why did he get in a fight in the first place? Because questionable parents aside, he’s practically an angel!”

Dina sighs and leans forward letting Ellie hold her once again, “he said he doesn’t want to talk about it. Only that he wants to ask you something important.”

Ellie glances up toward the stairs wondering what their son could possibly want to ask her. She wonders what kind of demon would have likely possessed their sweet little spud to attack another student at school. The worst part is not even knowing how to explain to their son about not resorting to violence when the world they lived in required such actions to survive.

Despite the severity of the situation, Ellie couldn’t help but to joke, “if he wants to learn how to punch better, he’s asking for the wrong mom.”

The comment earns Ellie a light jab to the chest from Dina.

“Oof. Way to prove my point, babe.” Ellie shakes her head and grabs Dina’s hand to lead them upstairs to JJ’s room.

They share a look understanding that whatever JJ wanted to talk to Ellie about, they all had to do it as a family.

Ellie enters JJ’s room first. They find him slumped and sitting cross-legged on his big boy bed. Ollie is on his lap, and they seemed to have interrupted a silent conversation between JJ and his beloved toy. Ellie slowly makes her way to sit on the edge of the bed leaving Dina behind to lean on the doorframe. Their family was complete, but they still wished to respect JJ’s request to only talk to Ellie.

“Hey, bud. I heard what happened at school today. Wanna tell me about it?”

JJ sinks further into his bed and fiddles with Ollie in his hands. He hesitantly looks up and whispers, “do you love me?”

The question baffles Ellie and feels her heart breaking at sound of doubt in her son’s voice. She is more than a little concerned that her son somehow thinks there is a universe in which she could possibly stop loving him. She immediately scoots closer to him and wraps him tightly in her arms.

“Of course, I do, Spud. What makes you think I don’t?” Ellie eyes Dina by the door making a speechless plea for some comfort on her part. Dina only nods her head, assuring her that she is doing all right.

JJ stays still in Ellie’s arms and his teeny voice is muffled when he says, “Max said you’re not my real mom so we’re not a real family and that you only fake love me.”

“What? Who the fuck is Max?” Ellie growls making JJ flinch under her grasp.

Ellie has a sudden urge to hunt down this Max to teach a lesson about not meddling in other people’s business. Dina loudly clears her throat as if to remind Ellie that she is veering off track. Ellie has to remind herself that children can be unconsciously callous and that whoever this kid was probably didn’t mean any harm, and most likely doesn’t know any better.

“Are you angry with me?” JJ asks her and slithers out of her arms.

Ellie is reluctant to let him go and only does when Dina approaches them to sit next to her.

“Mom is not angry with you, Tater,” Dina speaks up, “she has her thinking face on.”

JJ pokes Ellie on the cheek as testing to see if his mom would notice. Ellie fails to hide the smile that emerges on her face. She kisses JJ on the head and comes up with a way to explain the dynamics of their family to a five-year-old.

“Do you remember the book I read to you the other night about the lost bird asking the dog if she’s his mother?” he nods and she continues, “well, our family is kind of like that. You have momma, and you have me. And just because we don’t look alike, it doesn’t mean that I’m any less your mom than momma is to you. Do you understand?”

The truth is that the allusion to the old story isn’t quite fitting to their situation, but Ellie hopes that it is basic enough for their little boy to understand the way their family works.

“You’re the dog and me and momma are birds, and you love us anyway?” he asks so innocently she and Dina can’t help but to laugh.

“I love you always no matter what other people say, Spud,” Ellie reassures him, and she is relieved to see him accepting her explanation, “we’re our own little family and I will always be your mom, even when you don’t see me.”

“What about momma? Do you love momma too?”

Dina tilts her head at Ellie, mimicking the hopeful look in their son’s eyes.

“Your momma owns my heart, Tater.”

Ellie feels Dina’s hand grasp one of hers, their fingers intertwined. JJ sees the contact, jumps on them, and nuzzles his little head in between theirs. The moment was so tender they almost forgot what had started the discussion in the first place.

Until JJ spoke again, “if we’re always a family, how come you don’t live with us?”

And damn, their son really did have some hard-hitting questions that night.

#elliedina week #ellie x dina #fanfiction #better late than never eh?#super late but heck why not

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indianamoonshine · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7 | Superman (Ice Cream)

Summary: Every summer you work on your father’s strawberry farm with your three sisters. It’s a way to take a break from the big city but summers in the midwest are hot and they linger. This year, your father’s old and mysterious friend shows up to stay on your land for a reason yet to be determined. Din Djarin seems dangerous, but kind enough, and the two of you quickly become…well, let’s fact it…smitten.

Rating: (+18) for future and explict sexual content.

A/N: Hi friends! This chapter isn't as long as the others, but I've already got a head start on the next one!

Warnings: I can't find anything in this short chapter that would trigger anybody, so yay!

One can tell a lot about a person by their choice of ice cream.

For instance: Rhea likes honey flavored. It’s a rarity, but Scoops specializes in it. It meant she was sweet, though refined, and organic in these regards. Charlotte prefers amaretto fudge which implies she is a hopeless romantic and the kind of woman who loves vintage films (that alone says quite a bit). You prefer Superman. Maybe that meant the obvious; you’re the youngest and a little bit of a fledgling with a silly sense of humor. You like to be doused in color and leave a sweet taste on people’s lips (some say you’d do anything to please and they could be right).

And Din, well, you were surprised to find that Din ordered sherbert; raspberry and just one scoop. When you questioned his choice (not to say sherbert wasn’t tasty, but at an ice cream parlor it just felt wrong) he justified it by saying he didn’t like the texture of ice cream. Ice cream reminds me of snot, he says to you. You still haven’t gotten that out of your head (and was a bit turned off when you received your cone because of it).

Scoops is in the next town over. It’s a tourist town full of counter-culture fanatics and overlooks the stunning landscape of Lake Michigan. The beach is always packed with families toting cheap red coolers or wild young adults slathered in sunscreen. The air is light and clean with no trace of salt, but it’s a glorious kind of smell you’ve never been able to describe. Lake Michigan is something of mystery – after all, it’s one of the biggest freshwater lakes in the world -- but its appeal might be because it’s watched you grow throughout the years. The great body of water is something of a deity, all-powerful and all-encompassing in its compassion and protectiveness.

The weather is still scorching, but while the ice cream helps, it melts quickly. Along the boardwalk where Scoops is located are dozens of shops all lined up in a neat row and bustling with smiling people, laughing with one another, and arms weighed down with chic looking boutique bags. Most of the population is wealthy because of its tourism and the ridiculous economic situation, so this comes as no surprise. Charlotte and Rhea fawn over the window displays, pointing out which expensive items of clothing they wish they could afford.

Charlotte squeals upon seeing a sundress with a silhouette that she couldn’t possibly deny; Rhea agrees enthusiastically. While they gaggle, you keep your eyes on some birds that dive for pieces of corn dogs fallen upon the walkway. There was a lot going on so it was only natural that your brain retreat to idle, given that you had little to no spending money in general.

“We have to go in,” Charlotte sings to Rhea. “We have to. I need it.”

Rhea admits that she couldn’t pass up the chance either but promises she wouldn’t buy the same dress. The two of them invite both you and Din inside, but you shake your heads, eager of the idea to be alone with one another. It was a risky thing, especially considering how your feelings for Din exposed themselves upon your face like traffic signs. While your sisters certainly knew of your schoolgirl crush on Din, they’ve made no indication they suspect Din of reciprocating those feelings. How embarrassing for you.

When the girls are out of view, door closing behind them with a ring of a silver bell, Din immediately turns to you with a grin. It’s a slight grin – the kind you wouldn’t have been able to notice had it not been for your keen observation of him. His thoughts, actions, and feelings show upon his face like a stroke patient’s might – a little lopsided and faint, but still genuine. You can’t help but wonder why he’s so hesitant to show any exuberant display around anyone else. Did that have anything to do with his family? Any past relationships? Even his career? The career you had no inkling of? It wasn’t like pulling teeth; getting him to chuckle seems easy enough, but his friendliness couldn’t be mistaken for jolliness in any sense of the word.

Either way, Din is smiling – albeit, faintly – as he appears next to you.

“Were you planning that?” he teases, spooning his sherbert.

You shrug, licking the sides of your waffle cone. “I was counting on it.”

The two of you smile at one another and continue your walk with pleasant conversation. You people-watch and he casually jokes around by creating exaggerated scenarios for each of them as they pass. (“That guy in the red swim trunks and sports shades definitely cheats on his girlfriend.”) You can’t help but wonder if you sound ridiculous by the way you snort with laughter each time he says something clever, but he grins pleasantly anyway. It’s difficult to not get a big head each time you manage to get him to do anything other than monitor his surroundings – you notice he has a habit of it, despite how hard he tries to pretend he doesn’t.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try it?” you offer, ice cream cone melting a bit down the sides.

Din wrinkles his nose but sighs after a moment, maybe weakened by your puppy dog eyes. Wishful thinking. “Alright. Just for you.”

You smile widely with satisfaction, bringing the cone up to his lips. And just when he’s about to bend down to lick the sugary treat, you push the cone onto his face. Din blinks, expression blank, and you’re afraid you might’ve crossed a line. The colorful ice cream stains his chin, dripping down onto his neck, and then soils the collar of his t-shirt. You prepare for the blow, cringing a bit under his gaping. But just when you’re about to stutter an apology and run away, Din presses his lips in a thin line to stop himself from letting out a full-bodied laugh.

“Oh, you think that’s funny don’t you?” he raises his brows in jest.

You sigh out in relief. He’s clearly amused. “Yes actually,” you quip, donning a pair of innocent and fluttering eyes.

He nods a few times, lips pursed, and humming with consideration. “I see,” he muses, hands placing themselves on your hips and squeezing.

You shriek in a fit of giggles as he pushes you gently against the brick of a nearby building. It’s cold against your skin, but nowhere near as chilly as Din’s milky lips peppering chaste kisses against your cheeks. His lashes bat against you, tickling your cheeks, and you become sticky with fruity condensed milk as the gleeful bombardment continues. His name escapes your mouth between your humored twittering. He has you pinned between himself and a wall - you are quite literally trapped - and in front of the public no less.

He wasn’t ashamed of you.

It’s almost a reaction what happens next.

Your hands lock themselves around his neck, mouth pressing against his full lips for the very first time. The people surrounding you disappear, the noise of the busy street vanishing completely. You’d expected your first kiss with him to be serious, maybe even a little awkward with graceless fumbling. But the two of you are snickering against one another, the embrace as natural as breathing. He’s cupping your cheek with the caution he’d shown this morning; he must’ve been terrified you’d crumble beneath him.

You felt like you could.

He’s holding back, and you know this because his lips are soft and slow as a wounded butterfly with clipped wing. The hand that isn’t holding your cheek has pulled you in by the hips. It’s getting harder to breathe, even if it’s closed mouthed. He spoke and the world spun - but his lips make the world sing.

You’re the first to pull away, eyes fluttering open with an uncontrollable eagerness to perceive his countenance. What you expected, you can’t remember, because when you find his eyes still closed, relishing in the kiss with a full-bodied smile, you feel nauseous with excitement. It was almost too much.

Yet not enough at all.

The napkin around your ice cream cone is soaked, but you crumble it in a ball and bring it to Din’s face anyway. You pat against his cheek, wiping away as much of the ice cream as you could while he recovers. Some of it has collected on his dense mustache and you resist the urge to laugh at that.

He nods to himself like he’s trying to get a grasp on what just happened, eyes opening with caution to gaze into yours. He looks tired, but the kind that was delicious; the kind that you look forward to remedying. You must’ve taken an energy from him.

You hope you did.

Because he took it all from you.

He lets out a breathy laugh and you place a thumb against his jaw to wipe some stray remnants from him. “I think I like ice cream now,” he jokes.

•••

The two of you manage to escape.

This is after Rhea and Charlotte come bouncing out of the store, bags in hand, and giddy smiles upon their faces. You laugh with them as they show you their purchases while Din looks on from the sidelines, knee bouncing with alacrity.

You’re weak by the kiss, the blush from your cheeks still prominent. You were positive your sisters would notice, that tonight they’d drill you with questions they already knew the answer to. Women have a way of knowing when another woman has been kissed as zealously as you just had. It wasn’t just the pink in your face that would give you away; it was the dreamy glint in your eyes, the bit of Superman that you’d missed upon Din’s cheek, and the trembling of each item they forced in your hands.

You say your goodbyes to your sisters, promising you’d be home in time for movie night, and skip alongside Din while walking to Bessie. When he’s sure the two of you are in the clear, he takes your hand and massages the space between your thumb and forefinger. Tension subsides in your shoulders.

This was new to you. You’d kissed guys as a teenager; even had a few boyfriends here or there. But that’d been years ago and none of them alighted a fire in your belly like Din has. His company was ethereal - he was made of stardust; you were sure of it. And it seemed silly - even a little frightening - that your feelings have evolved so quickly. For hells sake, you’d just met him a few days ago. Could you really be just, well, stupid? And maybe he was feeding off that stupidity for his own personal gain?

This thought alone makes you feel guilty. You try to ignore the anxiety and focus on the feel of his hand, tanned and masculine, and breathe. The smell of fried dough wafts from down the boardwalk, the tune of an old carnival song muffled in the distance by the chaos of summer. The sun was still high in the sky; it was only five in the afternoon but your body felt as though it’d been up for an entire day, weak with the intensity from such a rush of adrenaline.

Upon arriving to the car, Din opens the door for you and a bit of paint from devoted Bessie showers upon the pavement. You can’t help but wonder if he knew you’d leave early with him and the idea of bringing two separate vehicles was clouded with hidden agenda. This, of course, starts up the cycle of mental dramatization again.

Gods, why can’t you just leave it alone? Why can’t you feel something for once in your life? You’ve spent so many years hiding in the corner in fear of getting hurt – of opening yourself to be exposed to new and terminal wounds even if the process was liberating. And Din was liberating in more ways than one; in ways that have surprised you, despite how little you’ve known him.

As soon as he climbs in, you scooch as close as possible to his side. Your bravery surprises yourself, but you wouldn’t overthink it, especially when he smiles cheekily your way. You’ve leaned your head against his shoulder just before reaching for his free hand again and placing it in your lap with a tight grip.

You may get hurt later. But for now, that pain was worth experiencing. Din Djarin already seems to be worthy of experiencing.

Bessie rumbles to life but he starts for the crown of your head first, lips brushing against you, and light as a feather.

•••

If Din hadn’t been such an experienced driver, he was sure he would’ve crashed by now.

No. He was positive he would’ve crashed. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on the plainness of the road when a goddess was sitting in the seat beside him, holding his hand, and gazing out into the fields you rush past. You exuberantly point out each time there was a farm where cattle and horses grazed, their tails flicking to shoo away flies. He realizes that you love cows (“especially the brown ones,” you had smiled) and makes a mental note of it.

The house is in view now, the strawberries blooming the land with color beneath their plants’ emerald leaves. Your sisters hadn’t beat you there and your father’s truck wasn’t parked in front like it normally was. Not that it would’ve mattered that his friend was home, but Din preferred your father find out…later; when Din felt confident in your feelings for him and you felt confident in his. You were too important to risk losing so soon or even at all.

And that terrifies him.

And just when Din’s about to turn onto the road that leads directly to the house, you gasp beside him.

It frightens him. He isn’t well acquainted with your exclamations yet, so it was hard to distinguish whether your outburst is harmless or exclaimed in the face of danger. He pauses, foot stepping on the brake pedal, and lunges Bessie forward with too much exertion. Upon instinct, he reaches out an arm to prevent you from slamming yourself against the dashboard by the sudden halt.

He immediately looks to you, brows furrowed in concern, and chest heaving with epinephrine. “What is it?!” he jolts out.

You’re staring into the nearby woods with narrowed eyes, silent as a bug. The thicket and vines wrap themselves around one another, graceful in their disorganized summer. Din couldn’t find any movement interrupting the overgrowth, but he had a suspicion you’ve seen an animal of some kind. What else could have caused you to gasp so randomly?

Something pretty incredible, apparently. Because just as Din’s about to repeat himself, far more concerned with your silence than anything, you swing open the rusted door and sprint into the woods.

{ Tag List: @steeevienicks, @hallway5, @t3a-bag, @dodgerandevans, @lumimon47, @dancingwiththeplanets }

#strawberryfic #din x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader

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swcetnight · 3 years

Text

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

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

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 🤍

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.

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.”

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.

“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?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter Three

(Gif's not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Three starts after the cut. (Chapter Two can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

Chapter Three

Chapter warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption (moderate), mentions of contraception and of pregnancy.

I think that’s it, but this chapter killed my brain – it was very difficult to write and I feel like I botched it. There are various important moments in this chapter that I found very hard to translate from my brain into words. And the smut, oh my God, it’s so bad!

"You know, when you came to me all bossy and told me to lose my clothes, I had something a lot different in mind." Sy grumbled from the bed, where he was sat wearing nothing but boxer briefs.

Ada laughed and turned around, sticking out her tongue at him before going back to what she was doing, namely sorting through Sy's clothes in the walk-in closet. She slid a pair of jeans off its hangers and threw it at him without looking back. "I admit that I probably don't need as many clothes as I own, but you're definitely a minimalist."

Sy grunted noncommittally, he was not amused, but tried on the jeans all the same. They didn't fit, he couldn't pull them up past the thighs. "Hey darlin'," he called her, a hint of amusement audible in his voice.

She turned around at the pet name and then forced herself not to laugh at the sight in front of her. Sy had already been a burly man when they had met, but it seemed he had managed to gain even more muscle mass in the past few months, now looking like an absolute bear of a man. Ada grinned and tilted her head at the cardboard box at the end of the bed. "Put those in the donation pile."

"Yes, ma'am," Sy said, getting up and doing as asked.

Ada grabbed her small pencil and added another item to the list. "So, you need jeans, new boots, sweatshirts, t-shirts..." She went on, listing the items. What he needed was a whole new wardrobe and she was the woman for the mission.

Turning around, she found Sy rolling his eyes at her. "I ain't need no new t-shirts, woman. I got the black one, the red one and the khaki one."

Ada chuckled and approached him on the bed, coming to stand between his legs. It was unusual for her to be taller than him, and with him sitting on the bed and her standing up, she still didn't have that much of an advantage. With a grin, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead before pulling back to look into his eyes. Instinctively, almost an automatism, his hands found purchase on her hips.

"Last time you wore your red 'DILLIGAF' t-shirt, three separate kids stopped and asked you what the acronym stood for and you looked at me for help."

Sy held her gaze, not keen on losing the staring contest. Ada didn't want to relent but she didn't want to force him either, not after what had happened while grocery shopping. "It's okay if you really don't want to go, I won't for-"

Sy shook his head, silencing her before she could even finish. "Let's get this shopping over with. But I'm warning you: I'll be complaining the whole time."

For a moment, Ada pursed her lips, seemingly unconvinced but eventually her frown was replaced with a grin. "I would expect nothing else from you, grumpy bear," she teased before turning around, excited about the task at hand.

Sy left to get dressed but not before landing a playful smack on her ass.

°°°

It went just as Ada had imagined. Sy sat down on the sofa at the far end of the store, keeping everything in sight, and she would occasionally come up to him with suggestions. To an onlooker, they resembled a devout worshipper trying to make offerings to a very picky and very handsome god.

His replies to the items she presented to him went anywhere from 'no' to 'not a chance in hell', without forgetting the classic 'you lost your mind, darlin’'.

After visiting three stores and Ada trying to visually guess his size because Sy absolutely refused to try out any of the clothes, they had managed to get most of what he needed. It just turned out to be near recreations of the clothes he already owned, just bigger and newer. And with more child friendly texts.

They stopped for coffee by the center of the open-air mall. True to himself, Sy ordered just that - a coffee with 'none of the fancy shit'.

"You're sure you don't want to go to any of your stores?" Sy asked, watching her sip on her colorful drink.

Well, the idea was tempting but she already had more candles and blankets than necessary. And she knew he was uneasy even if he was hiding it well. "No, it's okay. I know you don't like shopping and I can just ask some friends if I really want to go." Sy hummed.

By the time Ada finished her season exclusive drink, she noticed Sy was staring at a shop window. She was almost excited that he was finally interested in buying clothes before noticing that it was some video game advertisement.

"You can buy the game, if you want. No need to stare," she teased.

He reverted his attention back to her. "It's only compatible with the new console that came out last month and that one's sold out." Ada started beaming as he spoke. "What?"

"Well... a few months ago, I came across the launch announcement on the Internet. And I had seen the old model in the study, so I knew you liked it and since you were coming home soon..."

Sy's eyes became even bluer for a moment, a huge grin threatening to illuminate his face. "Are you saying that...?"

Ada laughed, shaking her head. He looked like a kid on Christmas Day. "Yes. It's wrapped in gift paper in the basement under the utility sink."

"I love you, wife."

Again, she scoffed. "Yeah, yeah... Now let's go get you that damn game."

°°°

Later that day, or rather night, Sy wasn't even paying attention to the movie they, or rather, she was watching. He had gotten the gist of it - superheroes teaming up together to save the world - that sufficed him. His focus was entirely on his wife nested between his legs, her back resting against his chest.

When they got home from the mall and went to sort through his clothes and belongings, finally unpacking the rest of his duffel bag, Ada came across his dog tags. She asked if she could keep them. Sy frowned at the odd request but agreed nonetheless, shrugging dismissively.

Ada then proceeded to put the chain around her neck and slide the tags under her blouse. He had stared at her a little confused; she was smiling, looking all smug as if she had managed to trick him out of something valuable and not just two cheap metal tags hanging off an equally cheap chain.

"The fact that I get to have both your tags means I am very lucky to have gotten you back alive and in one piece. I don't want to ever forget that."

With his height advantage, even sitting behind her, Sy could see the chain disappearing under her pajamas and the tags resting in the valley of her breasts. Somehow, the sight made him feel even more possessive than the wedding band on her ring finger.

Things always had felt slightly uncertain with Ada, there had always been the shadow of a doubt in his mind when it came to her. They had gotten married on a whim and she knew he was a green beret, deployed most of the time. It's an entirely different thing to marry someone you get to see for a couple of weeks every once in a blue moon and to actually live, share a home with someone. When Sy had told her, he was coming home for good over the phone, he had half expected her to ask him for a divorce or to find himself alone at the airport. His face hadn't shown it, but when Ada put on the damn chain he had hated wearing in the goddamn desert where it would chafe his nape or get tangled in his chest hairs, Sy felt as happy as a sand boy.

She seemed honest when she said there was nothing going on with that Tom guy. Not that he could truly blame her if there was, even if it would have broken him. His parents had been married for over thirty-five years and his mom found a new boyfriend not even two years after his father's passing.

And yet, Ada was there, cuddling with him on the couch. She hadn't served him with divorce papers upon his arrival. Instead, they had spent the past few days pretty much glued together as they usually did when he was on leave.

Maybe it was time he started to believe that he had come home to his wife and she really wasn't going anywhere. Especially since she hadn't asked him to wear a condom ever since he got home and he hadn't seen her contraceptive pills on her nightstand either. Sy even checked the bathroom cabinet where he knew she kept some medication, but he didn't find anything there either. This morning, he had even considered asking her about it, but he figured that if she hadn't mentioned anything so far, it was because she wanted it to be a surprise and he didn't want to ruin it. Though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't going to be checking the same cabinet for pregnancy tests in the future.

"You good?" Ada asked as the film came to an end, tilting her head back but only getting a view of his beard. It made her smile, though. Sy really was her bear: big, strong and hairy.

"Yeah, I just," he stammered slightly as if waking up from his thoughts. "I was thinking we should probably change the stairs' railing into something safer before we have kids running up and down."

"Yep, that's not gonna happen," Ada chipped in, jumping off the couch before starting to fold the blanket.

"What?" Sy blurted out, turning all his attention to her. "The railing or the kids?"

"The kids," she replied nonchalantly, now laying the blanket in the basket by the sofa. "If you want to redo the stairs, that's fine. I think we could even paint them white."

In a second, Sy was up on his feet, his imposing stature crowding her. "What do you mean, that ain't happening? You don't want kids?"

Ada frowned, suddenly uncomfortable at his intense stare. "No.”

"Why did you never tell me?"

"Why did you assume kids were a given?" Ada retorted, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. "I figured that if it was important to you, you'd have mentioned it sooner, at some point at least."

Sy had to fight the urge to yell at her, the feeling of betrayal and even anger overwhelming him. If he never spoke of it before, it was because he didn't want to have kids while he was deployed and miss their first years. Instead, he forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. "Is that a not now or a not ever?"

Ada looked away for a second, gathering her thoughts before moving her eyes back to him. "I got a new Mirena coil a couple of months ago, so I'm set for the next three years at least."

He had no idea what the fuck a 'Mirena coil' was supposed to be but it wasn't hard to figure out. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of head, raking through his short hair. "Just to be clear, Ada," Sy paused, his nostrils flaring, "you don't want children?"

It didn't even take her a second to start regretting her counter after it came out. "Do you?" She snapped back, the enunciation of the 'you' harsher than she had intended.

The effect was instant, her question giving him pause. Did he? Now reflecting on it, Sy realized he had never asked himself that question. It was just something that you did. First you got a house, then you found a wife and started a family. He had never thought about it as an option, just as the next step if he was lucky enough not to die in Iraq.

"I'm so sorry," Ada apologized, her tone alone expressing her regret. She took his hand, forcing him to look at her only to find her eyes glistening as she attempted not to cry. "I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't questioning your parenting skills. I know you'd make a fantastic father, Sy." Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath before opening them again, their corners wet with tears this time. "I just never saw myself having kids, but if it's something you really -"

"I ain't gonna force you to start a family with me," Sy rebuffed, offended at the very thought. The abruption of it even making Ada smile, if only briefly.

She shook her head quickly. "What I meant was that if you want to be a father, then I wish for you to become one. But... I won't be a part of that scenario."

"No." He said, dismissing the idea as soon as she voiced it, catching her hands in his and stilling them midair when she started gesticulating instead.

"No, this is important!" Ada protested. "I want you to be happy, Sy. And I won't stand in the way of your happiness. You deserve to live the life you want and if that includes a family -"

"No." Sy ordered, his tone final and resolute, silencing her instantly. He had never used this voice with her in the past, usually reserving it for the soldiers in his unit. "Stop with that ridiculous suggestion, woman." Ada blinked. It was obvious in her eyes that she wanted to argue but she didn't dare defy his hard stare.

Sy closed his eyes and swallowed, searching for the right words. "The choice between having kids with some other woman or getting to be with you, is a damn easy one. I'd rather we be a family of two than have children with some woman I could never love."

She was crying again, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. Had he said something wrong? Ada didn't let him wonder for too long, her hand fisting in his t-shirt to pull him down to her lips for a ravenous kiss, their teeth clicking together.

"You know," Ada breathed out against his lips once they parted for air. "It doesn't have to be just the two of us. I am partial to pets."

Later in bed, with his sleeping wife snoring softly and her head resting on his chest, Sy tried to process their conversation only to realize there wasn't much to process at all. It didn't feel that much like giving up on a dream, as it felt like defining the contours his future with Ada. All that mattered to him was that it was a future with the woman whose contagious laugh he had manifested in his mind time and time again to drown out the sound of gunfire and make it through. Children might have been a bonus, he wouldn’t deny that, but their absence was something he could live with. He couldn’t same the thing about Ada.

°°°

"Got your," Sy paused, frowning as he read off the label, entering the kitchen, "Willamette Valley Pinot noir. How many do you need?"

Ada looked away from the oven to find him carrying four bottles of her favorite wine. Did he think they were drunkheads? "Do you want for Tom to have to spend the night here because we're all over the legal alcohol limit and unable to drive?" She laughed.

Sy grimaced. "One bottle it is," he announced, making her laugh all the harder as he set down a single bottle on the table that was already set before casting away the other bottles in the pantry - where they did not, in fact, belong.

Just as was his habit, Sy sneaked up on his wife as she leaned over the kitchen counter, putting away the remaining ingredients and hugged her back to him with one arm. He then dipped a finger in the jar she had filled with leftover caramel and brought it to mouth.

She gasped at his manners. "You can't just stick your fingers in everything that's sweet and lick it off, Sy," Ada chided. She heard it as soon as the words left her mouth, but it was too late.

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest behind her. "Can't I?" Sy goaded her mockingly.

Ada took a deep breath. She knew where this was headed and they didn't have time. It was primordial her pie didn't overcook, and Tom would be there soon. "You know what I meant," she groaned, attempting to sound annoyed but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Do I?" He whispered against her ear, his beard tickling her skin and his warm breath making her shiver as he slid his hand under her skirt until he was cupping her damp sex over her panties. "Are you certain about that, darlin'?"

Her hands held on to the counter and her eyes closed as he started rubbing his hand along her folds over the fabric. He was also beginning to harden behind at an impressive rate. The temptation made her whimper. "We don't have time," Ada protested, even as her head fell back against him and she leaned into his touch, silently begging for more as she not-so innocently ground her ass on his crotch.

A swift glance at the clock on the wall told him all he needed to know. They had seven minutes. It would have to be enough, Sy decided. Time being of the essence, he was determined not to waste any.

“Open up your legs for your captain, darlin’,” he rasped, his nose nuzzling in the shallow of her neck, his hands already busy bunching up the soft fabric of her skirt around her waist.

“Sy,” Ada lightheartedly protested his eagerness. The idea was certainly enticing but they truly didn’t have time and she really needed to keep an eye on the pie. “We can’t-“

“I said, open your legs,” he repeated, gritting out the words as his foot snuck between her ankles, forcing her legs open himself. Sy barely had to apply any pressure, Ada complied instantly at his tone. There were very few situations in which she let him boss her around and this was one of them.

His hands brushed over her naked thighs, enjoying the way she shivered as he did so. Sliding his fingers higher up her inner legs, Sy expertly slid the scanty lace of her thong aside in order to access her clit. Ada keened under his touch, the rough skin of his finger pads slowly circling her already swollen nub. She couldn’t decide between pressing into his touch or attempting to pull away from it; it was both too little and too much all at once. “Already so wet and I’ve barely done anything to you,” he teased, hoping to sound less worked up than he was. Sy was set on keeping the upper hand. “Tell me, what is it that you want, darlin’?”

Ada whined as he removed his fingers from her core, his hands going to her hips instead and pulling her to him, letting her feel how hard he was for her. His wife reacted by rubbing her ass against him, determined to get what she wanted without having to voice it. “Sy,” she complained when he didn’t bite the bait, still grinding on him, surely getting his jeans wet with her slick.

“That’s not how it works, darlin’,” he chastised, going back to teasing her. His touch was ghostlike, too light to provide any real satisfaction and she groaned in frustration. “You have to ask for it like a good girl.”

He felt her body tense up against his as she tried chasing the friction of his fingers where she wanted them most, but Sy drew away before she could. “I swear to God I am going to make you regret-“

Smack. Ada gasped at the sharp spank on her ass, her body bending over the counter at the impact. Her ass was just too tempting in this position and Sy was running out of patience. “Ask like a good girl,” he ordered between gritted teeth, his hand descending to palm his crotch, hoping for some relief. Her little stunt was turning him on more than it should have.

“God, Sy, just fuck me already!” She sobbed, her legs rubbing together out of their own volition but her husband stayed put, rubbing his palm of his covered cock as he watched her. He wasn’t going to give up any time soon, she realized with a strangled sigh. “Please fuck me, captain,” she whispered, relenting.

Within a second, Sy was unbuckling his belt and pulling down his zipper. His cock was red, hard and throbbing impatiently. With time running out, Sy pushed himself into her without a warning. Ada whined at the stretch, gripping at the flour covered kitchen counter as one of his hands grabbed hold of her hips, the other moving to her breast. Then he started ploughing into her like there was no tomorrow.

Ada kept whimpering his name, but even she didn’t know what it was she was asking for. Her hips were digging into the cold stone and she knew there would be bruises come morning. He had barely started fucking her and she was already beginning to tense up with how worked up she was. “Are you gonna cum for me, darlin’?” Sy grunted, his jaw tense as her inner muscles clenched all around his cock. Ada nodded meekly, unable to speak. Just when he was starting to doubt he’d be able to hold off long enough for her to climax, Ada cried out, her tight walls milking him as she came. Sy exploded inside her with a strangled groan, slowly coming to a still inside her.

The doorbell rang. At seven o’clock on the dot.

"Fucking Brits and their punctuality!" Sy cursed, still panting before pulling away from her and tepidly leaving her warmth. Ada chuckled at his reaction, holding onto the counter for support for a few more seconds until she felt somewhat steady on her feet.

Sy tucked himself back into his pants and she adjusted her skirt over her thighs again before letting out a panicked squeak and turning around. Her front was covered in the flour she has spread on counter for the pie and the white handprint on her breast where he had held on to her was very visible on her black blouse. Sy couldn't keep himself from laughing. She looked great if you asked him, especially since Tom would be going to see just how well he took care of her. "I'll go get changed and you get the door!"

°°°

Sy’s eyes widened, positively surprised as he brought the first forkful of boeuf bourguignon to his mouth. The dish hadn’t appeared particularly appetizing on the plate, but it tasted so much better than it looked. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ada glancing at him with an ‘I told you so’ smirk.

“I received a new shipment of books at the store today,” Tom told Ada in between bites. He owned a bookstore downtown, Sy had learnt. “There’s a new murder mystery I’m sure you’ll love.”

Ada stilled, a look of excitement washing over her face. “Is there… poison?”

Tom laughed. He had expected that question from her. “Ah, yes. And it’s set in the 1920s!”

Sy glanced from the one to the other, forcing himself not to sigh. Ada’s excitement was adorable, but Tom was grating on his nerves. All the conversation so far had been about novels they’d read recently.

“Please tell me that you saved me a copy.” Ada shrieked enthusiastically, prompting Tom to laugh before he suddenly producer a hardcover out of seemingly thin air. As if she was scared that he was only taunting her with it, Ada leaned over the table and snatched the book out of his hand, a smug look on her face before she started reading the back cover. Sy looked at her and chuckled, shaking his head fondly at her almost childish elation.

"So, where did you two meet?" Tom asked, shifting his attention to Sy. "Ada always told me that it was a story for another time."

Sy's grip tightened on his cutlery. Admittedly, the strong animosity toward the man had faded, but he was still not keen on making conversation with the man. "Here in Austin," Sy replied before going back to his food. Ada had to stifle a laugh at the face Tom made at the curt answer.

"I'll tell you," she offered, capturing Tom's attention. "I had just graduated with my Masters and managed to land a PhD position here in Austin. I was freshly debarked out of France and I was only to start to start mid January but I flew over in December already - wanting to fly with my own wings and all that." Tom chuckled as she gestured derisively with the story.

"Anyway, I hadn't found a flat yet, all my stuff was in a storage unit and I had the brilliant idea of going to Vegas. On my own. In a 1979 black Camaro rental."

Sy finally looked up from his plate. "It was from 1980 and it was dark gray, not black, darling’."

Ada found herself staring curiously at her husband as he interrupted her story before laughing. That's what it took to get him to talk?

"So, it was a 1979, dark gray Camaro,” Ada correctly herself. “Anyway, obviously it did not have a navigation system and I stopped at one of the few open bars open at 5pm on Christmas Eve, ordered a beer and tried making sense of the maps I found in the glovebox, making a list of the different exits and turns I would have to make.

"Sy was there drinking with some friends – loud friends, might I add. Well, I am struggling with the maps and he must notice because he approaches me at the counter, takes of his cap and asks me if I need help, in his southern drawl. Actually, no wait, his exact words were” Ada paused, clearing her voice. “’Need some help reading that map, darling?'" Tom laughed at her ridiculous attempt to imitate Sy’s baritone voice. To Ada's surprise, Sy blushed. It was barely visible beneath his beard, but it was there and it was the cutest thing she had ever seen.

"I looked down at the map she was studying and asked her if she was headed somewhere on the east coast. She then slowly looked at me and confidently told me she was going to Nevada, until I pointed out that she was highlighting the road that went East and her face burned up, all self-conscious." Sy recounted, now laughing as well and even Tom scoffed. " I said: ‘At this point, even a navigation system can’t help you, darlin’. You’d need an escort.”

Ada bit her lip, remembering that moment clearly in her mind. She had flushed, staring at the muscular man that towered next to her. He was burly and rugged and yet still exhaled a little softness behind it all. 'Well then, will you be my escort to Vegas? I am leaving tonight,' she had blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I cannot believe you drove from Austin to Las Vegas with a stranger, Ada!" Tom said teasingly, clearly surprised by his friend’s spontaneity and recklessness.

"Yes, I made him miss Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with his family, and the best part is that we got married the day we reached Vegas on New Year’s Eve.” They had stopped a few times along the way, visited some towns and she had only known Sy for seven days when we got hitched at the kitschiest chapel imaginable. “We had to hurry to get a marriage license before the courthouse closed and a half-naked dude officiated because everyone else was already booked.”

Sy chuckled, sitting back against his chair and wrapping his arm around Ada's shoulders possessively. "She made me wear my old uniform that lasted all of fifteen minutes and was presided by an officer dressed as a cherub." He gestured at the framed picture standing on the cupboard next to them.

They looked absolutely ridiculous. Sy's uniform made him look too serious next to a tipsy Ada who wore the only white dress she had been able to find on such short notice and that definitely hadn’t been meant for a wedding because it turned out to be partly see-through under the camera flashes.

Ada shared some more stories about Vegas before excusing herself to the bathroom, the conversation instantly dying out as she disappeared, leaving both men in an uncomfortable silence until Sy’s curiosity got to him.

"So, you and her...?" Sy left his question unfinished. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that he was asking, he just wanted to know all there was to know.

In front of him, Tom gracefully dabbed him mouth with the ivory napkin and shook his head, with a tight smile. "No, nothing of the sort," the Englishman replied dismissively before Sy's inquiring stare forced him to expound. "It's not that I didn't think of pursuing something more with her, but Ada made it very clear from the beginning that she was a married woman and a faithful wife."

Sy hummed noncommittally, though internally he was reassured and maybe even elated. Mike had really filled his head with shit. Deep down, he always knew his Ada wasn't like that, it just felt good to hear it.

"My wife, for whom I left England, passed away only two months before Ada and I met. I was going through a rough patch then - and that's a euphemism. Carla had been talking to me about watching a particular film ever since it had been announced, it was an adaptation of her favorite novel." Tom explained, a smile warming up his features. "When she died before it premiered, I wasn't even sure if I even wanted to watch it without her... But the tickets had already been purchased and part of me hoped that for two hours, it would feel like Carla was sitting right next to me."

Sy listened, feeling sympathetic, if not a little uncomfortable by the man’s openness. He still wanted to dislike Tom but at the same time he couldn't imagine the wreck he'd be if Ada were to die on him.

"The cinema was packed and to accommodate a large group, Ada asked whether I minded if she sat down next to me,” Tom paused briefly, smiling at the memory. “I think it was listening to her laugh, cry and eat popcorn next to me during the movie that gave me the strength to drive home instead of off a cliff that night."

Sy gulped down the rest of his wine, still not a fan of the taste as he faced the Englishman before him. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but if he had failed to make it alive out of that godforsaken desert, he had to concede Tom would not have been the worst for Ada.

Silence fell again and Sy became uncomfortable, deciding to pour Tom some more wine. “I am glad Ada and you were there for each other.” When I should’ve been there for her myself but wasn’t, Sy thought but left it unsaid.

Tom chuckled as he observed the burly man in front of him. For all his muscles and gruff exterior, he carried the slightest of insecurities when it came to his wife. "There's a thick silver notebook Ada has kept for a couple of years. Maybe you should have a look at it.”

Sy wanted to ask what he was talking about but was interrupted by the sound of Ada's high heels clicking on the wooden floor as she made her way back to them. "I hope you weren't talking ill of me behind my back," she teased, squeezing Sy's shoulder absentmindedly. "Now, who's ready for my slightly overcooked tarte tatin.” Ada eyed her husband pointedly.

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc

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chefrat · 3 years

Text

another weasley

pairings: fred weasley x reader

type: fluff

word-count: 2.7k

warnings: some cursing

A/N: nothing just thought I'd hop on this and try it out I guess :o

No one had a clue of what was going on, or more like, no one was paying attention. Except Molly Weasley. She watched your every move, so much happiness filling her up that she could cry. Fred didn’t even know either, neither did you! But to Molly, it was pretty obvious. She has gone through it quite a lot, six times to be exact, and was able to recognize every single sign. You were pregnant! Molly was able to notice the change in your sleeping habits, the random waves of nausea, the extra snacking, the more you’d get mad at Fred whenever him and George were up to no good. It stressed Molly out seeing how immature the two still were but she knew she couldn’t go bursting your guys bubble. She preferred you find out on your own, wanting to see Fred’s reaction from afar but it has been a month and a half and still no one has taken action. Molly got to brainstorming, trying to find ways to make it obvious towards you. Maybe she could ask you if you missed your period? No, that would make it too obvious that she knew. She grew annoyed that not one of you could put it together.

“Hey, love.” Fred said, giving you a peck on the lips. He had just come back from a walk with his brothers, taking a breather out in the fresh April air. You giggled, feeling his nose poke your cheek when he pulled away. He smiled down at you, happy to have you tagging along to his childhood home. Molly couldn’t help but watch and gush from afar. ‘Oh! I’m going to be a grandmother!’ She thought to herself happily. George greeted you with a hug, treating you like the sister you were to him. Molly was blinded by her own happiness that she didn’t notice when George and Fred disappeared and reappeared behind her, scared out of her mind, she threw her hands up, while she screamed. They both laughed, moving away from their mother quickly.

“George! Fred!” She screeched loudly, making the twins laugh louder. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle. Ginny came out to see what all the fuss was about, surprise in her eyes. Once she saw what was the commotion about, she left a laugh out. It was days like these that you enjoyed, being close to your boyfriend and his family. You rarely were ever near your own family, conflict and fighting all the time so the Weasley’s were like your actual home. Your true family. While Molly went off to chase the twins, Ginny walked closer to you, shy for what she was about to ask.

“Hey, um, do you by any chance have an extra pad with you? I haven’t been able to go get some myself.” Ginny whispered to you gently which caused panic to rise inside of you. “Shit.” You gasped, trying to remember when was the last time you had your period. The ginger raised an eyebrow, unaware of what was going on. Worried written well all over her pale and small face. “Is something wrong? It’s okay if you don’t have any on you.” You shook your head in protest. No, it wasn’t that. It was something bigger than that. “I’m late.” A blush took over your face as Ginny clapped her hands together, covering her mouth while she let a gasp slip out. The huge grin on Ginny only made you blush harder but she soon dropped the act when she heard her twin brothers getting closer.

“Let’s go to the shop, we’ll be able to find the things we need there.” She offered and you nodded, glad to have her by your side during such a shocking moment.

After visiting the shop and buying all the items that were needed, you both eagerly crowded the Weasley bathroom. She had asked to stay with you, trying her best to comfort you. After agreeing, she turned around, giving you your privacy while you peed on the pregnancy test. You awkwardly put the test between your legs, new to the feeling of having to take one. “This is awkward, Ginny.” Blushing, you let out a stream, peeing directly on it while you looked toward the brittle ceiling. She only giggled, snickering to herself in the corner. “These are the consequences you have to face for sleeping with my brother.” You let out a laugh, closing the tip of the freshly used test and placing it carefully on the counter. “You can turn around now.” The remaining pee flushed down the toilet and Ginny glanced down at her wrist watch, waiting for the five minutes to pass.

“Soo, you and my brother, eh?” Rolling your eyes, you groaned. Laying your head on her sharp shoulder. Ginny wrapped her arms around you, patting your hair down and trying her best to soothe you. The younger girl secretly wished for it to be positive, ever since Fred had started dating you while you both were in Hogwarts and ever since the first time he brought you home, Ginny had instantly taken a liking towards you, just like how everyone in the Weasley family has. Now it's been, what? Three? Four years? It was bound to happen some day, planned or unplanned.

“Yea,” Sighing, you pulled away, pouting. “I swear, it was only that ONE time we did it without protection. It really does take one time.” Ginny giggled again. “He is a Weasley, you know what they say about us. Breeding like crazy.” You giggled with her, remembering how everyone in Hogwarts had teased them, asking if there was another Weasley waiting at home to attend Hogwarts. “Merlin, what am I going to tell your mom?”

“Hey, we still haven’t gotten a chance to see what the test says. It could all just be a false alarm.” She looked at her watch again, the five minutes gone. Both girls looked at each other, scared. “Go look.” You blurted out. “No, you look.” Ginny said back, failing to comfort you as her own palms grew sweaty from the anxiety. With eyebrows furrowed and trembling hands, you turned around, taking a small step forward to the counter. With a slow shaky hand, you grabbed the test and brought it close enough to read. Positive.

“So?” Ginny asked, biting her nails. It felt as if the air had been suffocating you, your own throat tightening and not being able to muster up even a small yes. So you nodded making Ginny smile and hug you from the back. Of course you were happy! Just shocked, afraid of what Fred would say. Afraid of what Molly would say! If only you knew that she had already figured it out on her own and already so so happy that you were pregnant with her grandchild. “How are we going to tell t-them?” You turned around, hot tears streaming down your face. Ginny immediately wrapped her arms around you again, she hated seeing you upset. “Please don’t cry. I can guarantee you that they’re all going to be ecstatic by the news!” She cheered while you sobbed.

“Come on, let’s wash your face with cold water. We can talk more about it in my room, I want you lay down and stay off your feet for now.” You agreed, turning around and turning the sink on, letting the water run. After being able to calm down, Ginny grabbed you and the test. She took your hand and guided you toward her neat and tidy comfort zone that was her room. Fred was working long hours today at the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes so both of you had the house for yourselves, Molly being away on a small date with Arthur. You were happy at how far they had come, seeing them grow from selling at school to owning their own shop and expressing themselves with their inventions. A child was definitely not in Fred’s plans and you knew that. His five year plan was to grow his family business and focus on his career with his twin and your were on board with it. But still, how would he react to having a bump interrupt his plans? Literally.

“What do you think?” You asked, sniffling. The ginger smiled, looking into your eyes lovingly and taking the seat next to you on her bed. “I think it's wonderful and I’m happy to become an aunt. But, remember that it’s all your choice. I don’t want you to feel forced to carryout a surprise pregnancy, nothing was planned and I cannot relate to how scared you might be feeling right now but I am anxious for you. And I will stand with you with whichever decision you take.” Ginny said, leaning into your shoulder. Hands intertwined and both taking shaky sighs. Millions of thoughts ran through your head, most of them were about Fred and how he would react. You thought of the pros and cons, mentally forming a list in your head. “I think it's wonderful too, Ginny.” She smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “But I want to talk about it with Fred too, I don’t want to force him into anything. It’s a group decision and I can’t decide for him, that’d be unfair. Especially now that his business is doing good, a baby would just add more stress.”

It was great to have Ginny by your side. She was the biggest support system you had right now, something that made you emotional. You weren’t sure if it was the change in hormones that made your more emotional or because Ginny’s help was really moving but you couldn’t help but just cry. And she let you, welcoming you with open arms, not caring if her shirt got all soaked with salty tears and snot. You are family to her and she admired you for being so involved and caring.

Hours passed and you were asleep on Ginny’s bed while she was down in the kitchen, trying to fix you up something nutritional for when you woke up. She scavenged around the cupboards, trying to find the book of recipes Molly kept when she was pregnant to prepare just the right meals with a dash of magic. ‘Found it.’ She thought to herself once she saw it at the top, collecting dust. Casting a quick spell to bring it down, not trying to do all the work of standing on the counter. Her wand called for the remaining ingredients, all being laid out in front of her as she flipped through the book. Ginny was absolutely positive that Fred would want to keep it, she knew her brother and she knew that there wasn’t anything else that he wanted but you. In his life, in his future, in everything.

She walked up the stairs holding the warm bowl of lentils that had a various amount of veggies, and on the other hand, an organic yogurt with a crushed up recipe scrambled in with oats. You were still sound asleep but with Ginny’s gentle hand rubbing your shoulder, you rose up, thanking her for the meal and the support. Feeling awkward that you were the only one eating, she rushed down the stairs to prep herself a meal to join you. You both sat next to each other, enjoying your meals and having small chatter between you both. “Imagine the little clothes.” Ginny gushed while you smiled. You like the thought of that. “The hands!”

Everyone was home now, Fred and George barely got home and they were tired from being on their feet all day. They simultaneously took off their blazers, sat down, rubbed their head and sighed. You popped out of the hallway, giving a reason for Fred to get up excitedly off the couch with a smile on his face, making his way to you. “Baby.” He said making you choke on your own spit. Fred rose an eyebrow at it but didn’t question. Instead, he quickly pecked your forehead, then your nose, and finally, lowering down to your lips. “Can we talk real quick? Something came up today.” You mumbled against his chest as he smothered you with hugs and kisses. His body tensed at the words that fell out of your mouth but he nodded, slightly worried that there was something wrong. You guided him towards a room that wasn’t occupied by his family.

“Is everything alright, love?” The concern that was visible in his face and in his voice was enough to make anyone tear up and that’s exactly what you did. Fred got even more concerned when he saw the tears forming in your eyes. “Are you okay? Is something wrong? Have you come down with something? Are your parents bothering you again?” He bombed you with questions and all you could do was shake your head no.

“Listen, F-freddie.” You started, sniffling and trying your best to put yourself together in front of the love of your life. “I’m pregnant, I swear to you I just found out today.” Silence. The only response you did not want. It hurt every second knowing that he wasn’t letting out even a breath of air. Too afraid to make eye contact with him, you stared down at his hands that held yours lovingly. “I know it wasn’t in your plans, I’m willing to forget about it so we can continue living like we were yesterday. But, just please say something.” Finding the courage somehow, you looked up seeing that the reason why he was so quiet was because he was biting his lip, tears falling from the corner of his eyes.

The laugh you love so much filled the room as he pulled his hands away from you to rub the tears away from his eyes. “Forget it? This is amazing, we’re going to be a family!” Fred cheered a little to loudly, Molly appeared quickly in the room. Just by hearing the word ‘family’ made her heart skip a beat, excited that it was finally happening. Your heart dropped when she came into your view but a huge smile was dominating her. “About time you found out! I noticed just a month ago!” Fred turned to look at his mother. “I’m going to be a dad!” He yelled excitedly. Quickly, the room started filling up with all type of Weasley’s. First Ginny, a huge smile on her face. Then, Ron, confused of the random shouting, a piece of bread stuffed into his cheek. Then George, both eyebrows raised, excited for his brother. Percy in his suit stood next to Ron, confused as well as the yelling was muffled from where he was in the house. “We’re pregnant.” Fred said proudly, pulling you into him while planting a huge kiss on your cheek. His nose poking you which always made you giggle.

But, he was quickly to let go of you to hug George. “A Weasley!” They shouted, hugging each other and patting each others backs roughly. Molly scoffed at how Fred quickly changed his attention from you to George. She walked up to you and cupped your face. “I am so happy for you.” You teared up a little at the motherly love and acceptance. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, as if she was afraid to let you go. “I love you.” The tears of happiness couldn’t help but leak from your already tired eyes. You’ve spent the whole day crying but now they were tears of relief, tears of happiness and of excitement. The night was spent by celebrating the news, Arthur was the last one to hear it since he was off on a quick errand but he was filled with excitement knowing that they’ll be a new addition to the Weasley family. “Another one!” He cheered, Fred and George joining in.

This was a new chapter for both of you, of course you had a huge support system but you still were scared shitless of what parenthood had to offer. It was only the beginning, you weren’t even showing but soon that would turn into a small bump, to a bigger one. Then, to carrying them in your arms and raising them. A little you or a little Fred or possibly both.

(not edited)

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #harry potter #fanfic #fic #harry potter x reader #ron weasly x reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x you #weasley #bill weasley #idk #not edited #first #i tried

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kyoonqs · 3 years

Text

iluso amor ; third part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 9.2 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21 @mangobaek @suhotly @pororodks @bbhbae @blahblahblah-boo @leewalberg @byunsbobobu @endzii23 @taeilpathic

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

When Cora left the trailer in that afternoon, she bumped into a young woman with shiny golden skin, dark hair, and a very pretty, contagious rectangular smile. She recognized her as Talia, she was a member of the group that performed acrobatic skills using various elements from ribbons to hoops and balls. From the moment she saw her, Cora could read how transparent she was and dared to say that she was surely the sweetest young woman in the whole circus.

The girl introduced herself and without losing her smile she brushed her hair behind her shoulders. Cora returned the greeting with a cordial smile of her own, as she caught sight of another woman approaching. The woman, dressed in black baggy pants and an oversized shirt came up and introduced herself as Ramona. Cora instantly recognized her as one of the women who had entered the arena on the back of one of the horses. Her casual clothes made Cora feel overdressed. She'd wanted to look good on her first day at the box office; for this she had put on an ivory silk blouse with black leggings instead of the jeans and the outlet shirt that Baekhyun had insisted on buying her in a shop window they had passed before settling in Fraga.

“Cora is Baekhyun's girlfriend, she joined us in Monzón.” Said Talia, who seemed increasingly happy with the news.

“I already heard the news. How lucky you are. Man doesn’t have a single particle of waste in his body.” Ramona replied.

Cora opened her mouth to tell them that she was just showing up for work, that she was definitely not his girlfriend but she snapped it shut when Ramona interrupted her with: “Algeria is going to have a fit when she gets back.”

“Actually... I applied for this job because of the vacancy, I didn't know Baekhyun before and I don't think he's interested in me either.” Cora felt embarrassed. She didn't want these girls to get a bad impression of either her or Baekhyun in the first conversation.

“Vacancy? The positions were filled by the time flyers were posted and besides we only needed male performers. Are you sure he has no interest in you?” Talia looked in bewilderment to Ramona, who only shrugged her shoulders with an apology that she had to leave.

Cora was going to investigate a little more, considering the girl's words had given her a lot to think about but she was in a hurry to get to the box office in time.

“I guess I’d better go. It was nice meeting you.” She waved goodbye and headed toward the locker trailer, mentally correcting herself that the place was to be called “The Red Wagon” shortly before. Baekhyun had told her the circus lockers were always called that, no matter the color.

Despite its name, the locker was pale in color. Dotted with a handful of colored stars, it showcased a hanging blackboard with prices according to age and number of family members.

In contrast to the cheerful exterior, the interior was dull and cluttered. A battered steel desk sat in front of a small sofa piled high with stacks of newspapers. There were mismatched chairs, an old filing cabinet, and a radio. Baekhyun was sitting behind the desk, with a calculator in one hand and a clipboard in the other. A single glance at his stormy face told Cora that Baekhyun hadn't had a good day so far.

Baekhyun stood up and gestured for her to follow him, leading her to the window at the side of the trailer to explain the procedure in a soft voice. It was very simple and Cora learned it immediately.

“I'll check every penny and make sure you don't lose sight of the fundraiser for a minute. The circus is on the brink of ruin, we cannot afford to lose money.”

“Of course I won't. I’m not stupid.” She held her breath, feeling that he would deny it, but Baekhyun concentrated on unlocking the hinge on the window. He accompanied her while she dispatched the first clients to make sure she was doing it right, and when he saw that she had no problems, he announced he was leaving.

“Are you going to the caravan?” she asked.

“I'll go when I have to get dressed. Why?”

“I left it somewhat scrambled.” She had to get back to the trailer before he saw the mess. When she started cleaning, she should have saved the cabinets for last, but wanting to scrub thoroughly, she had emptied the shelves to clean them first. The cabinets were clean now, but she hadn't had the time to put everything back and as a result, there wasn't a single surface in the trailer that wasn't occupied by something: clothing, tools, or an alarming pile of whips.

“I swear I’ll pick up everything as soon as I finish here, don’t worry if things are out of place.” Cora said hastily.

Baekhyun simply nodded, leaving her alone.

The next few hours passed without incident. Cora liked chatting with people looking to buy tickets and many of the circus employees made excuses to stop by and satisfy their curiosity about her –she guessed they were curious after the information Talia had given her, that they had all assumed she was there for other reasons, very dissociated from work–.

She recognized some of the men tending the stalls: clowns and several members of a group that performed equestrian numbers. She couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the girls were hiding their jealousy over the rumor floating around that she had managed to “catch” Byun Baekhyun. She appreciated the covert gesture. It gave her a glimmer of hope. Maybe things would work out after all.

Only after the second performance had begun was Cora able to leave the box office to watch Baekhyun perform. She hoped that watching the show again would dilute the shock she'd experienced the night before but she found his performance even more impressive. Where had he learned to do these things?

It wasn’t until the performance ended that Cora recalled the re-ordering she had yet to take care of back at the caravan. She rushed back to the living accommodations and was preparing to open the door when Talia called out to her.

“Come on Cora, I want to show you something.” She closed the trailer door quickly, before Talia could see the mess inside. The young woman took her arm and led her through the line of caravans. To the left she could see the emcee talking to Baekhyun as the workers stacked bleachers.

They rounded the last caravan, and Cora gasped in surprise to see many of the performers, still in performance clothing, around a folding table with a rectangular cake on top. Laia, the girl she had met before, was near the cake, along with Ramona, Fionn –if she remembered her name correctly– and her group of aerialists, various clowns and many other employees she had encountered.

Grinning widely, the emcee pushed Baekhyun forward and Talia raised her hands like a conductor. “Attention everyone, let’s all welcome Cora!” She was speechless. These people hardly knew her but here they were, extending a friendly hand to her. After spending months away from her family –not to complain of the wonderful travels– she took pleasure in the intimacy of this moment. At this impromptu gathering of future friends, she felt as if her family were welcoming her at the airport, with bright smiles and cheeks numb with happiness. Cora weighed the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

“Thank you. The cake looks delicious. I bet everyone wants a slice.” Cora glanced at Baekhyun, who had a lopsided smile on his face, surely trying to hide it. Even if they had only spent the last 24 hours together, she was beginning to grow familiar with his expressions.

Cheeks burning –somewhat embarrassed– Cora walked up to the folding table, grabbed a knife, and began to slice the cake into neat squares. Someone ordered one of the men to turn the radio dial to a happy station. After all, what was a celebration without dance?

When Cora had distributed the last of her cake, she watched as a tall boy with dark hair and round, shiny eyes like coins approached Talia. He looked hesitant but still held out his hand and she took it kindly. Guiding her to the center of an improvised dance floor, he then took her by the hips. Both of them mirrored a smile that could only have one explanation and Cora imagined how nice it would be nice to have company like that. In that moment, she thought of how Baekhyun had stroked her cheek the night before and turned to look for him, feeling disappointed when she found no sign of him.

For the next several hours, while the circus was being dismantled for the next town, Cora set about putting everything back into the cabinets. She was filled with a sense of despair that left her hardly able to stand upright but she kept working nonetheless.

The leggings she was wearing were completely dirty and the blouse was sticking to her skin but she didn't care. The little impromptu party and cake had been a small blessing to her but the fact that Baekhyun left the place sooner than she would have thought possible gave her the impression that all the hope she was gathering would only bring her a headache in the future. And she hoped it was just like that.

When Baekhyun entered the caravan shortly after midnight it still looked as messy as when Cora had first arrived. In the morning he’d found out that the circus was supposed to pay more taxes than expected. Afterwards he’d found out his boss would be back soon and with it the idea of receiving more tasks than he already had didn’t sit well and finally... he hadn't been able to get Cora out of his head. And it frightened him to such an extent that he had transformed the unfamiliar feeling into anger.

Although Cora had cleaned and organized the cupboards, she hadn't had the time or energy to do anything else. He rested his hands on his hips and examined the dirty furniture, the dusty tabletop, and the remnants of the cake the artists had insisted she take.

“I thought you were going to clean this up but I see that it’s still just as dirty.”

“The closets are clean. And I washed everything in the sink.” She said through clenched teeth, indifferently.

“Who cares about closets? Don't you know how to do anything right? You don't know anything about real life, do you, Cora? You're here for work, not to get thrown from one place to another for free. From now on, try to think of others, not just yourself.”

Cora's eyes stung as she tried not to cry. Without thinking, she picked up the cake with one hand and tossed it at him. He spread his hands automatically to stop her from throwing it at him, but it wasn't fast enough. The cake hit him on the shoulder and fell apart into a thousand pieces. She watched as the mess, bits of cake and icing flew everywhere. A sticky white substance splattered on Baekhyun's hair, eyebrows, and even eyelashes. Chunks of chocolate that had stuck to his jaw fell onto the shoulder of his shirt. Cora's nonchalance disappeared when she saw him turn red. He was going to kill her. He tried to wipe his eyes as he moved toward her. Cora got out of his way and, taking advantage of Baekhyun's temporary blindness, ran out the door.

She looked around frantically, searching for a safe place to hide. The circus had been dismantled. The smaller tents were closed and most of the trucks had left. She tripped over a bush and ended up taking refuge in a narrow space between two vans. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. What had she done? Had she completely lost her sanity? What if the emcee's introduction wasn't just about a lack of rationality and psychological logic? Could it be that the man's attractiveness had robbed her of her sanity so much that her heart already belonged to him? Was she going to go crazy because of love?

She hated arguing, irrespective of the person and the reason they might have, Cora had never been one to lose her temper so easily. She knew how to listen carefully. She thought before giving an answer and only if it suited her did she open her mouth. But at that moment she had acted with her heart.

Cora hugged herself, repeating that she was a fool for having too white a heart, for allowing herself to give so many opportunities to people who had rejected her in the first instance, and above all for believing that she had the ability to make a difference in their lives.

She winced at the sound of a man's voice and slid deeper into the shadows, crashing into something solid and human. An alarm went off in her head. She turned around, unable to bear it any longer. Turning, she found a warm fortress behind her and knew she had found a sanctuary. Then she felt something rough under her cheek. The events, the fear, the exhaustion and all the –distressing– changes in her life over the past two days overwhelmed her and she burst into tears.

Baekhyun's hand was surprisingly soft as he took her chin, forcing her to face him. Cora looked up at him. Still stained with cake and icing sugar, he looked fierce and magnificent. She realized that she feared Baekhyun in another way, one that she did not fully understand, she only knew that it was something that went beyond physical threat. It was more than that. Somehow she felt that he could damage her soul.

Cora had reached the limits of her endurance. There had been too many changes, too many conflicts, and she didn't feel like fighting anymore.

“I suppose now you want to threaten me with something horrible.”

“Don't you think you deserve it? Only children throw things, not adults.”

“You’re right, of course.” She brushed her hair away from her face with a shaking hand.

“What is this about? Humiliation? I've had enough for tonight. Limits? I've had enough too. Pressure? No, that won’t work, I'm too numb to feel it” she paused, hesitating. “I'm afraid you'll have to resort to something else.”

As he looked at her, she seemed so unhappy that something went soft inside Baekhyun. He brought his lips to hers, brushing against them but then he remembered that he shouldn't, so he turned away again. The sugar that hadn’t been cleaned with his sleeve had mixed with the salty liquid of her tears.

He knew that Cora was afraid of him –he had made sure of it– and yet he still couldn't believe that she had had the courage to throw the cake at him. He felt her tremble under his hands. Cora had shown her claws tonight but her eyes showed only despair. Did she know that her face reflected every one of her feelings? He wondered how many things had happened. Who was responsible for making her want to flee each time.

As he watched her, he had to restrain the sudden urge to pick her up and carry her back to the trailer, where he would lay her on the bed and find the answers to all the questions he was beginning to ask. What would her hair look like down and spread out on the pillow? He wanted to see her naked on the wrinkled sheets, to see the paleness of her skin against his, he wanted to soak up her essence and feel her touch.

The day before, he had told himself that she wasn’t the type of woman he would sleep with, much less be in a relationship with, but he also knew it was a matter of time. He couldn't touch her until he was sure she understood how things would be between them. And by then, there was a good chance that Cora would grab her suitcase and run away.

He took her by the arm and led her to the trailer. For a moment, she resisted and then she followed resignedly.

“I'm really starting to hate you,” she said weakly, her words almost inaudible. Baekhyun was surprised to find those very words hurt him, especially when that was what he wanted from her. Cora wasn’t cut out for such a hard life and he had no desire to prolong this indefinitely. It was the best he could do.

“Maybe it's for the best.”

“I've never met anyone so cold and cynical.” “Cold, Baekhyun. You're so cold.” He'd heard a lot of women say that before her. Kindhearted women. Competent and intelligent women who had deserved more than a man whose feelings were long gone before meeting them. When he was young, he had thought that a family could heal that wounded and lonely part of him. But while seeking a lasting relationship, he had hurt those kind-hearted women and proved to himself that he had no feelings to love any of them, even if he had intended to.

They reached the caravan. He passed Cora at the door and stepped inside.

“I'm going to take a shower. I'll help you clean up when I get out.” She stopped him before he reached the bathroom.

“Couldn't you have been a little more pleasant… Or at least try to enjoy my welcome party for one more hour?”

“I am what I am. I’m not pretending. I never do that. Don't get romantic ideas about me. It would just be a waste of time. I have learned to live by my rules. I try to be as honest and as fair as possible. For this reason I overlooked the fact that you threw cake at me but don’t confuse justice with feelings.”

Baekhyun entered the bathroom and closed the door. Squeezing his eyelids shut, he tried to put the play of emotions he had seen crossing Cora's face out of his mind. He had seen it all: caution, innocence, hope, and love, the last one terrifying, the prospect that he might not be as bad as he seemed.

↬ author’s note: next chapters will start to get spicier, as always, hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡ and again: thank you and i love you a lots, Oliv.

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x oc #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun serie #baekhyun series #baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo au #baekhyun circus #exo circus #iluso amor

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prettybiching · 3 years

Note

well since requests are open for John King 👀👀 (i’ve never actually requested anything so don’t judge) what if the reader is somehow introduced to him through one of his co-anchors (who knows the reader has a crush bc of all that glorious election coverage), and we see what would happen maybe on a first date?? it doesn’t have to be smutty but i certainly wouldn’t be opposed..i love your writing btw!!! blessing us in this (small) John King fandom

Dessert

Pairing: John King x fem! reader Warning: 18+ mature scenes (oral f receiving), swear words and sexual innuendoes. Viewer’s discretion is advised, you’re responsible for your media consumption. Word Count: 2.5k words Note: I changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind :)

Anderson Cooper, ever the stoic news anchor loved to play matchmaker for his friends. It was a trait Andy had managed to rub off on him, but he enjoyed it more than he'd like to admit.

Y/N had involuntarily become the latest victim of his match-making tendencies.

She didn't mean to babble out her newfound infatuation with his colleague, John King, to him but Anderson and Andy had managed to get her drunk, absolutely wasted. Before she could stop herself, she was slipping out all the unholy thoughts she'd been dreaming since election week.

The teasing that followed was relentless. It didn't help that Y/N had preliminarily promised to accompany Anderson to DC. She just hoped she wouldn't have to face the silver fox himself.

-----

She knew something was terribly wrong the moment she saw the wicked smile etched on Anderson's face.

"Uhm, why are you smiling like that?" she asked, her eyes wide with trepidation as Anderson let himself into her hotel room.

"You, young lady," he trailed, heading straight for the unpacked suitcase that laid on her bed, "have a date tonight."

Her mouth hung wide open in disbelief and horror, "What?!"

"Yup," he answered, not bothering to turn around, ruffling the contents of her luggage, every so often examining the articles of clothing.

"I don't wanna go on a date," she whined, throwing her head back. Dragging her feet to where Anderson stood, making an absolute wreck of her belongings, she plopped herself on the bed, tugging out her lips and staring at him with pleading eyes.

At last, he halted at his action, clumsily throwing the blouse he had in his hands in the briefcase before turning towards her. "Trust me, you'll make me the godfather of your future children after tonight."

"T-tonight?" she sputtered, jolting out of bed. There was no way she was going on that date now, she didn't even know who he was!

"Anderson, I love you, but a heads up would've been nice," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

Anderson stroked his chin for a second, in thought before scrunching his face, "Nope, where's the fun in that?"

Y/N gave him a deadpan look, slumping her shoulders. She knew sooner or later, she'd have to accept defeat. There was no way she was winning against Anderson Cooper. "Will, you at least tell me who it is?"

He smirked, mischief was written all across his face as he shook his head, "You already know what I'm about to say."

She groaned, taking a few steps towards him before clumsily planting her forehead on his shoulder. "You're the worst!"

Wrapping his arms around her figure, he let out a laugh, his body vibrating beneath her. "You know you love me."

"No, I don't."

------

After Y/N's long foreseen defeat, Anderson dragged her to go shopping with him stating that her limited clothing 'just wouldn't do'. She went along without a fight, admitting that she didn't pack anything she could wear on a date.

Despite going along with her best friend's words and having full faith in his match-making abilities, she wasn't sure how much of a success the night would be. Not when her mind could only fixate on the image of a certain news anchor between her thighs.

However, she didn't want her silly fantasies to get in the way of her actual love life and with the help of Anderson's picky taste, decided on a dress for the evening. Although the black half-slit bodycon wasn't something she'd usually wear, she felt confident in it, and that was all that mattered.

As she was on her way to the outdoor French restaurant near Washington Harbour that her date had picked for the night. She knew the restaurant was fancy from all the reviews she'd seen online.

As the uber driver drove closer and closer to the destination, Y/N was a bundle of nerve. She didn't know what to expect, hell, she knew nothing about him at all aside from Anderson's confidence that the night would go well.

The car came to a screeching halt in front of the park-like restaurant, fairy lights and intertwining vines of leaves decorating the area. 'What's the worst that could happen?" she let out a sharp breath, trying to calm her nerves as she exited the vehicle.

She made her way to the reception, her eyes advertently scanning her surroundings to spot a familiar face. "Hi, my name's Y/N L/N, I believe I have a reservation?"

The receptionist gave her a practised smile before leading her to her table, "right this way, Ms L/N."

Y/N followed her lead, her steps being clumsy from the knot of nerves forming in her stomach and her heart stopped when she saw the man standing up as she made her way towards him. John fucking King.

She was going to kill Anderson.

Unable to move a muscle, she froze at her feet as he approached her. He had a crisp perfectly fitted black suit on and a warm smile on his lips that had her knees buckling. She just hoped she didn't look like a lunatic in front of him.

"You okay there, Y/N?" he mused, flashing his teeth.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she opened her mouth, trying to form a coherent thought. "I- yes, I'm okay," she stammered, squirming under John's unmoving gaze.

She had met John a couple of times in the past, none of the interactions was long enough to be considered memorable. She was always afraid of making a fool out of herself. Seemed like she was compensating for all of those in one go.

John didn't look convinced but didn't push her on it any further. Instead, he extended his elbow towards her with a quirk of his brow, "shall we?"

Awkwardly she interlocked her arms with his and followed his lead, all the while making sure she didn't fall face-first onto the floor.

They stopped in front of a table in the back corner of the patio; mostly hidden away from plain sight. Y/N smiled, knowing Anderson must've told him that she preferred such setting.

John quickly untangled their arms, preventing her from moving further as he pulled out a chair, gesturing towards her to sit. She flashed him a grateful smile, overwhelmed by all of his efforts. Was she ever going to stop smiling in front of him?

Once she was seated, John took his place across from her, fixing his suit jacket as he did. She tried her best to divert her gaze from his hands, but it seemed near impossible. She was sure she'd faint before the night came to an end.

Finishing his task, he turned to face her, his entire focus towards her. Clearing her throat, Y/N shifted at her spot. "how awfully did Anderson bully you into this?" she chuckled, trying to soothe her nerves.

Squinting his eyes, he tilted his head sideways before shrugging, "he didn't bully me at all really. He merely put forth the suggestion, and I was down."

Pursing her lips, she paused for a moment before shaking her head, laughing. It wasn't until she took in John's earnest expression did she realise he wasn't joking. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "However," he began, a slight remnant smile gracing his lips as he wriggled his index finger at Y/N, "I did tell Anderson to tell you, but he was insistent, and you remain oblivious about our date."

Her mouth hung open in disbelief as she leaned back into her chair, muttering through gritted teeth, "I'll kill him."

John let out a laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he insisted, "Please don't. I have much to thank him for."

She tilted her head towards him in confusion, waiting for him to continue.

John averted his gaze, a nervous chuckle erupting from his throat, "I might've never had the courage to ask you out without his meddling."

She blinked, her eyes widening slightly at the revelation. "Y-you wanted to ask me out?" she sputtered, leaning forward.

As if her words had flicked a switch in him, he straightened his back, the earlier nervousness was long gone as a smug smile took over his features. "Also..." he trailed, interlocking his hands on the table.

"He may or may not have accidentally spilt that you have a crush on me?"

"No." "Yes." "No, shut up."

"Truce?" he quirked his brow, reaching his hand across the table for hers. Y/N eyed his hand warily before letting out a sigh and giving in. "Fine."

"I can't believe you two were basically conspiring against me this whole time," she whined, her lips tugging out into a pout.

She should've known Anderson wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut for too long. However, she couldn't believe her own eyes that the gorgeous man in front of her reciprocated her feelings.

Unaware of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, John cooed squeezing her hand, "but wouldn't you say it's come to a favourable conclusion?"

She couldn't deny that everything had worked out in her favour. Without her best friend's meddling, she would've never gotten the courage to admit her feelings for John.

Once the pout disappeared from her face, John reclined back into his chair, her hand still in his. "Now, how about we get started with some wine?"

------------

The date was a definite success, she would say. After the initial awkward passed, with some alcohol in her system, she found herself more comfortable around John. Not to mention that he was effortlessly the most charming man she'd ever encountered.

She had tried to restrain herself from staring at him when he made the smallest movement, but it was near impossible. She was completely enamoured by him. All the flirty smiles, casual brushing of their legs, teasing touches and lingering glances didn't help either. He knew what he was doing, that smug bastard.

John was in the middle of an amusing story, something that had happened at work that week. Y/N wished she could say she was listening, but she was far more distracted by his hands that he sporadically used as he spoke.

"Y/N? he called her name, snapping her back to reality.

"Yes?" she answered, tugging in her bottom lip as she stared at him with round eyes.

He smirked, having caught her not-so-subtle gaze. "I said, I was hoping to have some dessert if you would allow it."

Her lips twitched, not missing the mischief behind his eyes as he spoke. She would've missed it if it weren't for the way his pupils dilated as he uttered the words.

Wordlessly, she leaned forward, reaching her hand out to touch the side of his face. John tilted his head, kissing the inside of her palm as her fingers hovered over the dip of his jaw, the scent of his aftershave making her heart pound a little faster.

"Yes, of course," she murmured, almost inaudibly, her eyes locked into his aquatic ones. "Although, it'd like for you to have it elsewhere."

On cue, John pulled his hand back and fixed his tie before calling out for their server, asking for the bill. The two bickered for a moment, Y/N insisting they split the bill, but he was having none of it, ending the argument by saying she could pay for their next date.

Yes, the next one. There was going to be another one after this evening. It made Y/N smile more than it should've.

He drove the two back to his place, the car ride going painfully slow. Neither of them spoke during the journey. Instead, John kept his hand on her thigh, the hand sliding closer to her heated core throughout the ride.

As soon as the door to John's apartment closed shut, his lips were pressed hard against hers as he led the two towards the dining table. She felt the table dig into her hips from behind as he hovered over her. He wasted no time in grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up on the surface, moving his lips down to her jaw and neck as he hummed against her skin.

She ran a hand through his hair, breathing in as his other hand ghosted over her hip, running down then back up before it made its way underneath her dress, tugging at her panties. “Are you fond of these?”

“Yes,” She breathed out, her eyelashes fluttering, “Don’t destroy my clothes.”

John smirked, then leaned over her, kissing her again as he focused on pulling the tie open as he pushed her back flat against the cool wood. There was no barrier but her dress between the two. He quickly unzipped the back of her dress before she shrugged it off her body and threw it to a corner. Grabbing one of her thighs, he pushed her legs up and apart. He dropped down to one knee between her legs, hooking his arms under her as he pulled her closer and dropped his head to kiss her thigh slowly, tongue darting out onto her skin.

She was already breathing hard, her mind a little fuzzy from the wine, skin burning with every touch. John was overwhelming, in an incomprehensible way, and she lifted her hips as he rid her of her underwear in a flash, fingers sliding across her slowly.

Moaning, she slid her hand through his hair, falling flat on the table as his tongue wandered over her skin, teasing and sliding until he pushed a finger into her slowly and buried his face between her legs.

“Darling,” He urged her, looking up briefly as the vibrations of his words made her moan again. “Feel free to be loud.”

Her eyes rolled back into her head as he began to move his finger, adding a second one as his tongue moved against her clit, pressing against her as his hands expertly moved against her skin, pulling her closer and then pressing a hand against her stomach as the pressure began to build. She rolled her hips forward on the table, breathing harder and harder as she tried to hold back, but the noises kept getting louder as she pressed against him and softly whispered his name.

He was relentless as he moved faster, jerking her hips almost fully off the table as he groaned against her, sucking on her clit harshly and moving his fingers faster, curling them up and angling his wrist. Her other hand jerked down, grabbing onto his hand as she gasped and arched off the surface, the other hand tugging on his hair as she jerked against him, feeling the waves of warmth and overwhelming shock as her orgasm hit her hard enough that he turned his head and bit down on her thigh, prolonging the aftershocks.

When he pulled back, he moved his hand, sliding it out of her and then bringing it up to her mouth, pushing her lips open. Obliging, she took his digits in, moaning as she tasted herself, her eyes fixated on his intense gaze. Pulling them out, he closed his eyes, licking his fingers clean and looked up at her with a smile.

“Would you like to stay for the evening?”

As if there was any doubt.

#john king #cnn anchors #cnn anchor smut #john king x reader #john king imagine #smut #inside politics #john king fanfiction #fanfiction #politics #election

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) VIII -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: I need a group of friends that live near my house so we can all have crisis together -Danny

Words: 2,790

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Eight: 2nd. Déjà Vu.

'We are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known’

—Carson McCullers

"Anne, I’m sorry!” Cole called from the other side of the door, “If I had known that finding out about that asshole’s engagement was going to upset you like this, I would’ve kept my mouth shut…”

“You couldn’t take a guess?” Josie scoffed, leaning against the wall beside him. She continued in a whisper, "She's on her period, and you thought it'd be okay to just drop the bomb?"

Anne opened the door abruptly, almost causing her friend to fall forward into the bathroom. Her face was still red from anger, but there was no sign of tears treatening to come out.

“He’s a monster!” She yelled, making a bee line back to her bedroom. “First tries to make me believe I’m the love of his life and that he’s the man of my dreams, and then cheats– now he’s telling the same tale to one of my classmates he met thanks to me! What the actual fuck?!”

“Anne,” Ruby said tentatively. “I think that you need us to leave you alone...”

“What?” Her eyes widening. “No, no, no, no, please don’t leave, please don’t go, I need you here! I thought I was going to be better in the morning but I had this dream… and the nightmare from real life just continued, Roy and Lauren were inviting me to their wedding and I was so upset! I was plotting to ruin their party, I was… oh, it was so out of control– don't you dare say this is because I'm on my period, Josie!” She glared at the blonde in front of her, who just raised her hands in surrender.

“Then let’s do something,” Cole put one hand on her shoulder, “let’s go downtown, let’s visit Muriel! I bet she’s eager to see us, c’mon Anne, you love visiting her...”

“Maybe we could ask her about her husband?” Anne asked, suddenly hopeful. “Her love story could give me hope.”

“For what?”

“For believing love not is not yet another scam of society,” She sentenced.

“Oh my god,” Josie let out a tired sigh. “Fine, we’ll visit her, but please take a shower first, you stink of anger and drool.”

___________________

There she was again, the same girl. Was it the same girl? Gilbert couldn’t remember her face at all, but both definitely had the same red hair, the same soft-looking skin…

“Gilbert, you’re spilling coffe on the table!” Mary’s yell brought him back instantly.

With a start he lifted the kettle and stopped pouring the liquid onto his cup, it was filled to the brim. He let out a tired sigh and reached out for a napkin.

“Sorry,” He mumbled. “I was thinking…”

“A bit too much,” The woman raised a brow. “What is it this time, a scholarship you’re trying to get? An essay that might’ve been one page too long?”

“A dream,” He said quietly.

“A dream,” Mary shook her head skeptically. “You can't even rest while sleeping, then? I’m glad Winnie’s taking you out for the day, Lord knows you need a distraction...”

Winnie arrived at two o’clock, punctual as usual. She was holding a bouquet of flowers that were meant to be for Dellie, but the little girl was having a nap, so she left them on the kitchen counter.

“Sunflowers,” Gilbert raised his eyebrows. “You’re trying to call us haughty?”

“What?” Winnie tilted her head. “No, I just thought they were pretty– Hold on, that's their meaning? How the hell do you know that?”

“I…” Gilbert smiled faded. “I think I dreamt about it.”

Winnie laughed at this.

“You dreamt about it, so it must be real, right?” She shook her head. “Come on, Gilbert, it’s time to get you out of the house.”

___________________

“Anne, why are you stopping?”

The redhead was standing outside a flower shop, she was glancing at it inquisitively, as if pondering whether to take a quick look or keep walking.

“Anne?” Cole called her softly. “Are you okay?”

“What if I do exactly like in my dream?” She asked absentmindedly. “Is it too petty to buy a bouquet just to say 'fuck you'?”

“Very,” Cole raised a brow. “It’s classy though, I like your style.”

“We can talk about whether you should buy your ex venomous flowers once we’re at Muriel’s,” Josie pulled both of them forward. “Let’s go, she’s waiting for us!”

The woman was delighted to receive her former students, they sat in the small dining room and talked for hours until lunchtime. Anne was in a much lighter mood, and offered to prepare a meal, to which they responded with skeptical looks.

“Don’t worry,” Anne rolled her eyes. “I’ll stay far from the oven. Honestly, you burn something once and everyone acts like you’ve been ten years in jail for arson…”

Ruby, Cole and Josie remained at the table while Muriel and Anne entered the kitchen.

“How’s my best student coping with college?”

“You ask that every time I come to visit,” Anne grinned. “And it’s always the same answer. I’m fine, it has been kind to me, it's nothing I can’t handle.”

“Cole told me something happened,” Muriel leaned against the counter. “He said you wanted to ask me about my husband?”

“Oh,” Anne looked up from the bowl she was rinsing, a blush covering her cheeks. “Yeah, I did say that but you know me, I was… upset. You know I tend to be dramatic–”

“If it makes it easier for you, I’d love to tell you about my Jonah, not many people ask me about him, they think I’ll get upset,” Muriel smiled. “It’s been quite some time now and to be honest, talking about him feels different now, the further the memories are, the sweeter they taste.”

Anne wasn’t sure she understood what Muriel was saying, but it encouraged her enough to ask.

“Was it love at first sight? Did you know it’ll be him?”

“Oh no,” She chuckled. “We got along right away, yes, but we didn’t date until our last year in Uni, when all was a bit quieter. Just then we realized that it was always meant to be that way, us together.”

“Did you had partners before him?” Anne went redder. “I’m sorry, is not my business–”

Muriel laughed.

“Anne calm down, I said that you could ask, didn’t I? We’re friends, it’s fine,” She stayed quiet for a moment. “Hmm… well, I only had one official boyfriend before him when I was in highschool, I dated a few kids and never settled– Now, don’t look at me like that!” She laughed, “I was not a heartbreaker, every single sweetheart left with a smile, I think they knew it wasn’t meant to last. I have the feeling that all humans have the ability to know when a person is meant to be with them.”

“I never felt it,” Anne lowered her gaze, “I mean, Roy was the first man I ever dated, he talked about big plans and a future together… but it didn’t matter how much I liked him, how beautiful he was, I never felt the thrill.”

“Sometimes is not thrill what takes over you,” Muriel replied, “sometimes, it’s a subtle tickling on the tip of your fingers, the anticipation that comes a second before you walk into the rain, when you can feel the breeze on your face and… am I making any sense?”

“Yes,” Anne said breathlessly. “Like knowing what’s coming because it’s right in front of you, yet there's something stopping you from having it and remains there, unreachable until you are ready to walk up to it…”

“Exactly,” The woman smiled. “Love is different for everyone, Anne, and most times is not a fairytale, but we make it work when we are with the right person.”

“I suppose you’re right,” She walked up to the fridge. “I’m an adult, I shouldn’t be daydreaming with princes coming to my rescue- especially since I do not need to be saved from anything, my life is great. It’s silly, I'm a grown up now but still have such a childish spirit.”

“It’s okay to dream,” Muriel said reassuringly. “Real life can be magical if you look at the right things, if you pay enough attention.”

“The little things in life?” She looked over her shoulder as she kept handing ingredients to her former teacher.

“Yes, but also no,” The woman frowned, a little smile playing on her lips. “It’s funny, I hadn’t thought about it in a long time...”

“What thing?”

“A month before Jonah and I got together I was having the weirdest déjà vu’s… whenever I was with him it was like watching a scene I had already lived out in a dream, so strange…”

“I read once that when you dream about someone, in a romantic way, that means that person is also thinking about you!” Anne said with excitement. “Maybe he was dreaming about you too!”

“I never asked him,” Muriel shook her head, “what a shame, if he was indeed dreaming of me, that would’ve been such a romantical tale to tell you, I’m sorry I can’t confirm your lovely story.”

“You can’t deny it either,” Anne winked. “That’s enough for me.”

“All this time I thought I’d dreamt about him simply because I was thinking him too much during the day,” Muriel laughed. “It’s so much better to see it through your eyes! I might need to change my version of the story.”

“I had a dream this morning,” Anne giggled. “I was buying Roy a bunch of flowers to tell him to fuck off,” She laughed louder at Muriel’s expression. “Am I allowed to swear in front of you? It feels so weird… anyway, I was buying flowers and the poor man helping me…” She felt a giddy as soon as she remembered him, “he had to deal with my anger while still being completely helpful, if only real people were as patient as he was when I rambled on about my ex and how much of an asshole he was!”

“I hope you gave him a lot of imaginary money for helping you,” Muriel joked.

“Oh, he wouldn’t take it,” Anne rolled her eyes, a silly smile on her face. “That's my childish self, imagining a flourist man- a very handsome flourist man- just giving away his work to me for free, like some sort of selfless hero,” She chuckled. “Well, not so selfless. I remember him asking me to go back and have lunch with him. I mean, I offered the lunch part, but he was the one who asked me to go back…”

“Looks like the mistery man managed to charmed you. I thought the dream was about your ex but it sounds like you were having a jolly time with the flourist!”

“I was,” Anne shook her head. “I have no self-control, even in my dreams I'm incapable of keeping it in my pants.”

“Anne!” Muriel exclaimed over Anne’s cackles. “You’re right, it does feel strange listening to my former student talk like a sailor.”

“A sailor?” Anne asked, still laughing. “More like a pirate! Ahoy, you dirty animals! Hold the anchors! Let’s go south and kill those ravenous monsters while we steal their gold! Captain Shirley doesn’t have time for this buffoonery!”

“Oh Captain, my Captain!” Muriel replied, following the joke. “If you consider it addecuate, we shall start cooking!”

“Oh,” Anne looked down at the untouched ingredients. “Yeah, we should do that.”

___________________

“...And then I told her we could still be friends, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious,” Winnie shrugged, finishing her drink.

“Did she cry?”

“She understood, I told her since the start. I wasn’t leading her on or anything, but I guess she’d grown fond of me, she did cry a little, yeah.”

“Winifred Rose, you must be a nightmare back in Paris,” Gilbert snorted.

“Well I’m not lying, am I? I tell them exactly what I want since the start and they agree!”

“Probably just because they’re too distracted by your looks to actually listen to what you’re saying,” He teased.

“Well that’s on them,” Winnie raised her brow. “Now really, I know you said you’ve had zero fun, but c’mon, there’s gotta be someone…”

“You mean like a prospect?” Gilbert took a quick sip of his coke while Winnie nodded. “I told you before, I don’t have any.”

“Why?” She tilted her head. “I didn’t raise you to be like this, Blythe.” The man laughed.

Winnie was a year older than him, when he was a freshman in Highschool she had taken him under her wing, she was popular (and wealthy) so Moody and him had a decent time during their adolescent years. That if you didn’t take into account the time his father got sick and died, which had been the majority of three years.

“You want me to be honest?” He let out a sigh. “I guess that if I tried, I could make time to go out and meet new people, if I were that eager to go out and… Have something.”

“But?”

“You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“Of course I will, but that doesn’t mean I’ll think less of you!” Winnie saw his distress and her smile faded a little. “I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not the type to sleep around with strangers. I thought that you would at least try to meet someone and see how it goes, though. Formal relationships are not that hard to find, you know?”

“I know,” Gilbert shook his head. “Every time I consider it, just when I’m this close to ask you or Moody to set me up with someone you think would be a good fit for me, something just stops me. It’s like I’m stuck in one place, waiting around for a girl to pull me out of where I’m drowning.”

“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly,” When Gilbert gave his agreement, she continued. “What's stopping you? Is it that you’re secretely gay, or is it that you actually met someone, and you don’t want to tell us who she is?”

“I’m not gay, Winnie,” Gilbert rubbed his forehead. “I’m being honest, I feel like I’m on pause. I don’t know, maybe I met my soulmate and I fucked up so now the universe is forcing me to turn around and find my way back, or I could be losing my mind,” He joked. “It certainly feels like I am, lately.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” He shrugged, signaling to the waiter so he could bring them the check. “I had this dream two times in a row, or more like I dreamt about this girl two times already…”

“So there is a girl!”

“No! Not really— She’s not… I think I’ve seen her before,” Gilbert frowned, struggling to remember something besides her striking red hair. “Maybe on tv? She might be a minor celebrity… I’m so sure I’ve seen her somewhere in real life, there’s no way I’m dreaming about her with such clarity…”

“Gilbert you’re not making any sense," Winnie raised a brow. “If I’m honest, it does sound like you’re losing your mind.”

Gilbert gave up on trying to explain, he didn’t know what he was trying to say anyway, so what was the point? He hung his head low and kept on rubbing the weariness out of his temples. He felt like crying but didn’t know why; the more he thought about this girl, the more the void got bigger and bigger, like having some kind of treasure handed to him only to watch it disappear just as quickly.

“How about,” Winnie started, “I’ll stop nagging about finding you a date until New Year’s Eve. It’s the Orchard’s anniversary, right?”

“Yeah, the fiftieth,” He said. “Why is it important?”

“I’d like you to have someone on your side by then, the anniversary's on January, I know, but your father would’ve wanted you to build a life outside school and work, if you let me find you a nice girl…”

Gilbert frowned, it wasn’t that easy, and it was low to bring up his father so casually when he was well aware that he hadn’t done the one thing his father had asked him before dying, which was to live a life full of love and adventures. He knew this, but he couldn’t stop now… could he?

Or was he stopping himself because he was, as Bash had kindly put it, crushing on a fantasy? Some sort of dream-mermaid lurking in the back of his mind, ready to eat him up and finish him when least expect it…

“I’ll think about it,” He mumbled awkwardly.

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @little-boats-on-a-lake @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#twoidiots writing #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #Gilbert Blythe #DV fic #shirbert #shirbert fanfic #awae

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