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queers-gambit · 2 months

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Blue Bunny

prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname, Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.

"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"

"The pink's rather nice."

"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"

Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.

"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.

"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."

"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.

"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.

"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"

"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.

You blew on your nails, admiring the color.

Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.

"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.

"I'm here," you smiled.

"Right, what color did you go with?"

You grinned, "Take a guess."

"Blue's your color."

"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."

He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."

"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"

"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"

"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."

"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"

"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."

"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"

"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."

"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"

You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"

"Collette's doing my nails."

"Ah, very good. What color?"

"A pretty pale blue."

"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."

You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."

"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."

"One of our associates is late on payment."

"How late?"

"A week."

"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"

"I'm stuck in Prague."

"Daddy."

"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."

"Who's the associate?"

"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."

"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"

"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."

"How much is the debt?"

"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."

"US dollars?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.

"Not the question I think you want to be asking."

"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"

"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."

"I'd rather take Samuel."

"No, he's doing a different favor for me."

"Daddy."

"He's making a delivery, all right?"

"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."

"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."

"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."

"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."

You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"

"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."

You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."

You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.

"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"

You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.

"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.

Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.

Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.

Gunther checked the rest of the house.

"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."

"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.

"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."

"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."

"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.

"Up, up," you demanded.

Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."

"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.

"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."

"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "

Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.

"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."

"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.

"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.

"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.

"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.

Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"

"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"

"Collecting debt payment."

"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."

Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"

"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"

"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"

"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.

His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"

"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"

"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."

"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"

"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"

"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.

"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"

You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "

"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.

" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"

"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.

"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."

"I-I can explain, please - "

"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."

"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."

You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."

"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"

"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."

"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"

"Priceless," you nodded.

"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"

"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."

Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"

You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."

"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "

"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"

"Fucking do it, Dad!"

"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"

"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"

"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.

"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."

You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"

Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"

"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"

You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"

"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"

"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"

"I don't have it! Please!"

"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"

"Please - "

"You want a dead son!?"

"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"

You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."

"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.

You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."

Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.

"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.

Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.

"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."

"Like it?"

"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."

"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"

"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"

"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"

"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.

"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"

"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"

"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"

"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"

"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.

"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."

Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.

"Watch your tone."

"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "

"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.

"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.

"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.

"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.

"Yeh all right, Bunny?"

"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"

You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"

"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."

"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"

Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"

"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.

Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.

Call it morality.

Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."

He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."

"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."

"What happened?"

You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."

"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.

"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.

"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "

"That's my girl!"

" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "

"WHAT!?"

"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."

"Did you say contractors?"

"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"

"You mean hitmen?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."

"Who? Who exactly was there?"

"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"

"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."

"What?"

"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"

"Daddy."

"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"

"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.

"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"

"Not entirely."

"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.

"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."

"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.

"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."

You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."

"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."

Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good.

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it.

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship.

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi.

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again.

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him.

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection.

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard.

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual.

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi.

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol.

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again.

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written.

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened.

Déjà vu?

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there.

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up.

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out. When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception.

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now.

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start.

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back.

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you.

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter.

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back.

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile.

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once.

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day.

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

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tallymonster · 6 months

Text

Memories of Us Chapter 4

Chapter list (1) (2) (3)

I have no clue what to even say, all the support, reblogs, and comments from everyone who has been reading this beautiful thing I've had in my daydreams has been pretty amazing. I can't thank you all enough 💕

Summary: Octavia has a little mess to clean up.

As always, thanks goes to my beta and best friend @micropoe10 . She's the driving force behind this idea because she kept telling me how good it was. So thanks, I owe you many lol.

Inspired by @cheesy-cryptid 's piece of fan art that buried itself in my brain and kept telling me what to write.

Chapter 4

"sleep til the sun burns out"

The next morning, Gale walks up to his shared office. Octavia should have already begun on the last of their tasks. At least a month of work finally coming to an end. They decided early on to share the office he had, after all one person doesn't need that much space to themselves. As he fumbles with the door, Astarion stops him. "Ah! My favorite assistant! Good morning Gale. I trust that you and our dear Octavia are prepared for the opening?"

Gale enthusiastically nods. The coffees he's got stacked on top of his pile of books are slightly shaking. He catches himself against the door and steadies the drinks, "Oh most definitely. Octavia has been staying after hours a few nights, at her insistence mind you, and she's incredible! She did at least three days of work in only half the time! I don't know what I would do without her at this point."

A small blush lands on his cheeks and he clears his throat. "Thank you for trusting me to bring her on board, she's a wonderful addition." Gale smiles awkwardly as Astarion gets in front of him and takes the cups. "Let me hold this for you before you wear this instead of your dashing sweater." Gale's shoulders fall a bit and he rolls his eyes.

They walk into the office to see a gigantic mess. Books, paperwork, pens, all matter of snack foods and energy potions surround Octavia and Gale's combined desks. "Octavia? Are you...?" Gale places his books on the desk softly, meanwhile Astarion places the cups down, picks up a book, and slams it on the table in front of her.

"I'M AWAKE! I'M HERE!!" Octavia springs up, a small note stuck to her cheek. She looks around bleary-eyed and rubs her face, as the room comes into focus, two faces come into view. Gale, and...OH SHIT. "MR. ANCUNIN! GOOD MORNING!!!"

She looks around and sees the mess left behind, quickly fixing her hair and ripping the note off her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't know" Gale mouths to her, he hands her the coffee and begins to gather the room. She puts her face in her arms and hides into the desktop. Thoroughly embarrassed, she lifts her head and looks at Astarion. "Good morning...sorry...I just really wanted to be done, and good news. It's done." She takes a lazy swig of her drink.

Astarion yawns and sips a bit from Gale's cup, coughing dramatically."Gods! How many sugars do you add to this?! This tastes absolutely vile!" He makes a disgusted face and places the cup back on the desk.

"Please tell me you aren't one of those people who asks for the drink with the longest name just to feel important?" He huffs, rolling his head to the side. "I'm not sure how to react to that." Octavia states, she looks down at the pile of papers Gale has already gathered.

She gets up to help, but Astarion stops her. "There's actually a reason I came by to see you both. Something that will pique both of your interests." Gale shoots him a suspicious glare, "What have you done now?" Astarion smiles and places down a well worn book, its black and red cover fraying like it's about to disintegrate if you sneeze in its direction.

"While I was away in the Underdark, I met with a lovely mind flayer and hobgoblin who had all kinds of interesting rare artifacts. One of which was this very book. They told me that this was procured during the siege on the Szarr estate, I'm hoping that it has more insight into our mysterious subject."

He slides the book over in between Octavia and Gale. "I'd love for the pair of you to tackle this long game Gale has played by himself. Octavia, your dedication to our last project surely landed you the task of caring for this book. Not a soul is to even breathe on it. That means you too, Gale."

He tilts his gaze over to Gale who scoffs a little at the notion that he can't read this book. "No offense, dearest Gale, I just don't want it leaving this office and we all know how you like to take work home." He pats Gale on the shoulder as he turns to leave the shared space.

"Also, one last thing. No more overnights, Octavia. You need your beauty rest, my darling. I've told you once before.." he leans in close to Octavia's left side and softly speaks near her ear "Can't have that beautiful mind of yours working too much, you'll turn into Gale, and I feel like you're far too much fun for that, hmm?"

She turns to him, their faces a few inches from each other. He's slightly taller than her, but in this closeness, he feels ten feet tall. His eyes hidden again behind pitch black lenses pierce through her, and the previous chill builds in her core, a shudder escapes her lips as the flush creeps onto her face. "Of course, sir, no more overnights."

She keeps her gaze on the glasses, her own eyes watching in return. She sees the vulpine expression start on his lips "Octavia, what have I told you about calling me 'sir'? We're in private chambers, not the atrium. Live a little, dearest." His voice dripped with suggestive candor.

Octavia on the other hand, was melting into the floor underneath her in return. She's never been around someone so well spoken, and it's pretty intimidating. "Of course....Astarion. I will go home tonight and sleep in my bed, not on my desk." She smiles timidly, back up at her as she looks towards him. "Wonderful, glad to hear it."

Astarion turns quickly on his heels, he must have somewhere to be. Octavia turns to Gale, an incredulous look on his face. "So he wants you to rest but he gives you another gargantuan responsibility to fulfill? I don't get that man sometimes." He shakes his head and keeps filing away paperwork.

—--------------------------------------------------

Later on, Octavia finalizes the displays and wanders back to her office. The last of the visitors are filing out, their dull rumblings and soft murmurs keep her company for a moment. As she turns the corner, mind elsewhere, she doesn't notice the person in front of her until it's too late.

The shock is like walking into a wall, her little pad falls to the floor and her forehead starts to feel warm. "You know, we really have to stop running into each other like this" there's a tiny sarcastic laugh behind the statement.

Astarion was standing in front of her and Gale's office holding two black envelopes adorned with silver writing. One for Gale and the other for her. "I meant to give this to you earlier. Before we got caught up in…all that…" he grimaces towards the office.

"Anyway, we're having a little party here for the board members, staff, beneficiaries, pretty much anyone who wants to have their name on a wing or a bench. I came to give you and Gale your invitations but you were both gone. Figured you actually listened to me for once." He shrugs loosely, picks up Octavia's notepad, and hands it back to her along with the envelope.

The black matte paper was smooth in her hands, her name embossed in silver leaf. She flips over the envelope and sees a silver wax seal with a Sharran symbol stamped in the middle. "Spared no expense, huh?" She remarks as she opens it.

"No, of course not. How do you think we pay for all the exhibits? We have to wine and dine these benevolent people to give us more gold to cover what I spent trying to convince other people to let me have their pretty little treasures they kept in dilapidated, crumbling, piles of rubble and bone for two hundred years." Astarion rambles sardonically, waving his hands as he rounds off. "That's all in a day's work for me. Having to put on airs to impress people who wouldn't even give me a second glance had I not worked my way up to where I am now. I've been one with the shadows for as long I can remember."

His voice lowers, a forlorn twinge to his words. "Having to sort through rushed, sloppy graves. You almost feel sorry for the corpses, I think I do. Hmm. Nevermind any of that. There's a dress code by the way. Black preferably. Spend some of that graduation money you mentioned and get yourself something nice."

He brushes some hair off Octavia's shoulder, his hand lingers there for a bit. She stares at his hand there and looks back at him, wide eyed. "You deserve it after all." He takes his hand off, placing both his arms behind his back. "Well I'm off. Looks like I'll have to look for Gale at his place. I'll see you there, dearest."

Tag list (thank you 🥹❤️, if you want to join, please let me know!) : @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @justporo

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion bg3 #bg3 gale #fanfic #headcanon au #fic: memories of us #my fic

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herzgeist-writes · 7 months

Note

Hii! I hope I'm not bother you but I just wanted to tell you that your friend hirsheyskisses suggested me to check your page and I love it! I'm a huge Law fan and i really love how you write about him! I find it so canon like 🥺✨️

If you don't mind i have a request for you, but only if you have time and if you're not already working on other things of course!

Pairing: Law x fem!reader | Word count: 3.2k | Warnings: suggestive, slightly possessive Law, a hint of angst

Synopsis: After the Heart Pirates met up with the Straw Hats, the journey once more embarks, roaming the wonderous lands of Wano Kuni. The nights however grow colder from each day passing and the two joined forced decided to take rest at an onsen they happend to cross in the majestic mountains surrounding the flower capital. You decided to let yourself go and enjoy a relaxing evening in the hot springs. Turns out your ally, the Surgeon, had the same idea and 'vaguely' shows his interest in you.

A/N: A little 'from fluff to spice' OneShot for dear Kurage to enjoy! Thank you for your request, that was a delight to write! Really hope you like it ఌ

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

You sneeze. The cold of night got the better of you. Shivering, you rub your arms in attempt to keep yourself warm, but in vain. Usopp walks up beside you and tilts his head in concern: "Woah there! Want my jacket? You don't look so good." - "Thanks Usopp, I'm go-" Another sneeze interrupts you mid-sentence, leaving you disgruntled.

The curly hair hands over a tissue to you, giving you an ecouraging pat on your back. It helps for perhaps five minutes, until you hear Trafalgar call out to the group, that the next upcoming village is two hours footwalk in distance.

Completely knackered, your shoulders drop to that annoucement and you stop in place to take a breather. The others walk the path without noticing your backlash, growing smaller the more further they go. Yet only one person realises your absence, Sanji.

Practically running back to you, he shows his overdramatic worry for your fatigue: "(Y/n) my sweet! Are you alright?" As a reply, you smile meakly at him, thanking him for his kindness. Offering his arm for support, you gladly hook yours onto it.

After you catch up with everyone again, the man leading the group at front, gazes at you over his shoulder. Law, it appears, isn't very pleased with how the cook snuggles up against you, obviously courting you and boasting with his chivalry. Why does the sudden urge to swap that delusional blonde's heart with a slimey green old toad grow so vacant in his mind? Well, the Surgeon was rather close in doing so, but decided not to in the end.

"Ow guys! Check this out!", Franky calls and points at a wooden pathfinder, indicating a way up the mountains. Usopp reads out aloud: "To the Glowing Petal Onsen." Doesn't that sound inviting? A break in a warm and relaxing onsen would be a perfect opportunity to regain your energy again.

Luckily, it's only a thirty minutes hike up the makeshift cobblestone stairs. "Oi Tora-o, we've been marching for hours now. Wouldn't it be better to take a break and continue tomorrow morning?", Sanji turns to Law, still aiding you to walk steadily on your wobbly legs. The aloof man recognises the weariness in everybody, especially you, and agrees to the cook's term.

"We'll head to the capital, first thing in the morning. Let's rest to gather our strength.", your ally states, taking the stairs to the mysterious onsen. The others follow suit, including Sanji and you in tow. Tired, you hum with high hopes: "Can't wait to take a warm bath tonight!" - "You deserve it my dear! If only I could prepare a meal for you, I promise I could have made you feel better!"

The man beside you pouts and inches closer to you, helping you step up each uneven level. Wano Kuni is even more breathtaking from this height, a display of majestic mountains, an omnious city glowing in the valley's midst and the stars shining above, adorning the scene graciously.

The higher you go, the colder it gets. Not something you anticipate to say the least, but the onsen shouldn't be all too far away now. Hearing Usopp shout, he waves at you from afar: "Guys! I can see the hot springs! We're almost there!" About to approve is ignition with a content cheer, your knees give in due to a loose cobblestone beneath your feet and you tumble, face foward.

Ready for impact, you squeeze your eyes shut. Though you await pain in the next upcoming second, it doesn't happen to your wonder. Tender hands around your waist hold you in place, for the cook has caught you just in time: "Be careful my love, you're already in bad shape." - "I- thank you, Sanji."

It's the faint blush spreading over your cheeks, that lets him hum in delight, little rose coloured hearts practically visible above his head. You are aware, this man is utterly infatuated with every woman he sees, however you appreciate his courteous manners, yet not in all situations. At times they are driven to excess to your dismay.

Law attends you a few steps further, shooting an uplifted gaze at the blonde next to you: "Don't fall too far behind. I'd rather arrive before sunrise." This tells you he must have witnessed your slip a few moments ago. How embarrassing. Only one long stairway left, you proceed to the greatly awaited warm waters.

At first glance, the establishment insinuates to better leave this place, for the cottage's facade crumbles and peels off and the windows are bleak and damp. The rest however, a garden greets you with a wondrous diversity of flora and a water fountain splashes timidly by the entrance. In it's basin swim a dozen colourful and dazzling koi fish, floating towards you in curiousity, as soon as you walk past their pool.

All of you contemplate the view for a split second, fore you enter the remarkable hut. Following behind Sanji, a hefty grip hinders you mid-way, it's nobody else than the Surgeon, holding onto your wrist. You look up at the tall man. As he speaks, he lets you go: "I told you to wear warmer clothes. Do you even listen when I talk to you, (Y/n)-ya?"

The corners of your mouth tug upwards by hearing a trace of compassion in his voice. It pulls on your heartstrings, to think a haughty supernova like him cares about you. "Perhaps I forgot my jacket on purpose," the words purr out of you, a soft smile grazes your cherry lips as you brush your fingertips over his black lined chest, "to meet my favorite doctor again tonight, one on one."

Too proud to shy away from your silken fingers, gliding over his bare torso, he shudders, defying your appeal, yet futile. Enticed, he watches you walk up to the building. Almost inside, you look over your shoulder to enjoy how you achieved the utmost impossible, the Captain of the Heart pirates is flustered, shielding off the red radiance on his face with the brim of his hat.

With you finally gone, Law mutters to himself, shaking his head to your despicable behaviour: "That's what I get for letting my guard down. This woman . ." Don't get him wrong, his heart, just as much as his thoughts are racing, occupied with you and your irritating cuteness. What a nuisance.

The evening phases out calmly. Everyone obtained a room to sleep in and enjoys a relaxing bath in the hot springs at the back, soaking in the marvelous view. In all it's might and glory, the flower capital towers up in the plains below, close yet so far it seems. Lanterns in all colours and sizes enlighten the area around you, unrhythmic flickers of the flames warming up the already gorgeous ambience.

After you washed and wrapped yourself up in a comfortable white towel, you dunk a toe into the steaming water in the stone basin. Slow and steady you sink in and a low sigh escapes you by the hot sensation crawling up your body. Lucky for you, there are no other women visiting the onsen, so you are all by yourself.

The neighboring springs however are fully settled, reserved for men, quite obvious, as you hear Franky and Usopp bickering for utterly ridiculous reasons: "Oh my god, Franky! Can't you wear something more decent?" - "Watcha talkin' about, this is trendy!"

It tickles you, listening to those oafs. Leaning at the pool's edge to fully induldge the picture underneath, you feel your eyelids growing heavier with each deep inhale, becoming drowsy and completely unwinded. This is where you nod off quietly, your breath calm and even.

Reluctantly, Law puts his hat aside, storing it in a locker and heads over to the washing rooms with a white towel in hand. Grumbling something incohorrently, while scratching the back of his neck, he promptly reconsiders his choice of how to spend his evening very quickly. Recognising Sanji, sitting on one of the bathing stools, he opts to leave immediately, but it's too late. The cook greets him with an indifferent: "Tora-o."

Mirroring the blonde with a condescending: "Black-Leg-ya", Law takes a seat beside him, deftly ignoring the dark aura emitting from the Straw Hat. As if it takes his ultimate focus to clean his hands, the Surgeon fixates on the towel scrubbing his skin, avoiding Sanji at all costs, who stares Trafalgar down unrelentlessly. "If you dare to put your filthy grabbers on my sweet (Y/n), I'll stamp a boot mark on your oblivious male nurse's ass!" - "Can't you see I'm cleaning them at the moment? And dare I say they are capable of far more than just to 'grab'."

Outraged, the cook gets off his seat and towers over Law, who throws a cunning sneer at the now fuming man standing next to him. Thus the doctor speaks: "Listen, not that it should concern you, but if my knowledge about urology doesn't abandon me, you should check out your-" - "Oh go to hell, Tora-o! Just don't touch (Y/n) you creep! That's all I'm saying." Storming out the washrooms, Sanji slams the door shut behind him, leaving the supernova chuckling inwardly in triumph.

One of the oldest tricks in the book for Law. Nobody likes their health issues pointed out, especially men with a certain 'ego'. Finally alone, the Surgeon carries on with the clean up and drops by the hot springs, intending to ease the tension of his sore muscles.

On the way, he meets Franky, with Usopp in tow, apparently both of them are finished with their soak: "Oi Tora-o, you're late to the party." - "I prefer to settle in for the night by myself, Robo-ya." Respecting his space, the two Straw Hats wish him a good night and head off to their rooms. They're not always as troublesome as Law thought them to be, it is refreshing and reassuring to know.

The host, an old lady enters the women's hot springs, checking in on you: "Don't fall asleep on me, dearie! I'm not a trained life guard you know." She jests, snickering while tiding up the area. Torn out of your nap you yawn, assuring her with bashful grin. As the friendly woman leaves again, you stretch and shuffle in place, the ripples of the hot water tickling your skin.

Peace and quiet welcomes the exhausted doctor, inviting him over to the basin. Truly, the sight is mesmerizing, the cold of night visible due to the thick steam wafting over the waters. This wasn't such a bad idea, Law admitted.

Voices from the other side of the wooden fence catch his attention. It's the hostess and you. Interesting. Until he realises, that you're alone again, he hears your sighs of relief and water splashing only meters away from him. You are close.

Trafalgar recalls you saying, or better implying, that you'd like to see your 'favorite doctor' again tonight. One on one. As a matter of fact, he'd be lying, if he wouldn't want to see you on a lovely night like this as well. Hence, his loosend hand hovers before him from his stretched out arm, air whirling underneath his palm. 'Room' uttered in a low manner, follows his bidding and the light blue globe expands.

Back to snoozing, your eyes heavy and fluttered shut, you feel odd for some reason, the air shifts and the water splatters around you. You look up, only to find yourself seated in a different position, but the view is, almost, all the same. The stones of the pool took another shape and there are other plants surrounding the place.

Hold on. Spinning around you see Law standing at the springs edge, with only a white towel hanging loosely from his hips. Utterly dumbfounded you let of a tiny squeak and turn back around, believing this is presumably just a fever dream. Are you actually catching a cold? Your palm slams onto your forehead, trying to approve your thesis, however it could be arguable, if it's a fever or fluster heating you up from within.

Once more you face the other way, only to find yourself caged in from two long arms on each of your sides, propped against the stones. A broad and tattooed chest straight in your face, a deep chuckle emitting from it: "There I thought I'll have to drag your sorry behind to the springs myself. At least you know, what you have to do against an incoming cold, I'm proud of you." - "Spare me your hipocrisy, Trafalgar."

Not able to move, you stare into those steel grey eyes, which narrow at you. If it weren't for you, you'd say there is a hint of fervor hiding in his gaze, but that might only be your wishful thinking. Despite that, his face inches terribly close to yours, contradicting your recent theory. Law huffs in amusement: "I believe you wanted to see me, yet you seem perfectly fine. Want me to reschedule our little one on one?"

"Wasn't it you, who warped me over here? If you ask me, it's YOU who wanted to see me.", you give this tall figure a shove, to grant yourself some space to breathe. In response he hums sheepishly, teasing you to his heart's content. There is no need to counter your sassy backtalk, for Law drowns in your adorable demeanor, fully self assured he is the one calling the shots. He sits beside you, resting an ellbow on the edge of the pool and takes in the picturesque scenery.

You do the same, supporting your head by cupping your cheeks in your palms, on propped up arms. It is hard to stay quiet, the silence enhancing your nervosity, coming to realise who you're seated next to, practically naked. "It's beautiful, isn't it?", you mutter, stuck in your absentmindedness. Looking at you from the side, the corner of his lip turns upwards, hiding his truth from you with a wary 'Indeed'.

Though he doesn't face you, he adores your beauty, as much as he can muster, not wanting to discomfort you by all means. Nonetheless, he curses you and your womanly charms, as he occassionally sees your body unfold in ways he only dares to dream about, and even those are kept at strict limits.

Subtly, he shifts closer to you and his hand glides up your spine, pressing you into his frame. As you turn to him, you are met with a pair of hazed eyes. The water ripples strongly from the forceful pull. "What are you doing?", you question his sudden approach and his gaze switches between your lips and your deep e/c irises: "When the alliance between us ends, all of this . . you and I . . it simply cannot be anymore. But I fear I cannot accept it so easily."

The heart in your chest beats rapidly, competing a marathon. He is close, so much so you can feel his warm breath on your now shivering skin. Gently, his large hand drifts up and down your back, highly pensive, motioning you to listen to his vulnerable thoughts. Again, he draws you nearer, his cheek nuzzling against yours: "I can't bear the thought of you being with another. Though I . ." Law swallows the upcoming words, uncertain if he should proceed.

He trusts you to the fullest and the emotions you coax out of him are nothing but new and extraordinary to him. Giving it another go, he continues: "Though I cannot call you mine-" Interrupted by your hand on his jaw, your lips brush faintly against his as you straighten yourself to face him. It silences him and his worries, for you understand where he intends to direct this conversation.

"But I am already yours, Law.", you mumble into the kiss, letting your desire guide your hands along his neck and up his damp raven hair. Insecurity lets the man before you tremble, yet slowly but surely confidence grows, now fully comprehending the situation. Hitched breath brings his chest to heave irregularly and a sigh of relief escapes him in between lip locks.

His tongue finds a way through your puckered lips, longing to intensify and deepen your roiling passion for eachother. In a swift motion, you entangle you leg over his thigh, craving his closeness and warmth. Law fails to keep in a needy whimper as you accidentally glide over his arousal, animating you to encourage him further with your own lustfilled moans and whispers of sweet nothings.

Now straddling his lap, your fingers play with his golden earrings, rattling from the fine touches of your tips. Breaking the fervency, the doctor coos: "We are on mutual terms, if I'm not mistaken. Glad you agree with me." - "A simple 'I love you' will suffice, you arrogant fool . ." His low rumble reverberates through your body, the both of you smile into the kiss, drunk on eachothers love.

And for a moment you freeze up, as he pulls away for a second, staring deeply into your eyes before induldging himself into you again: "I adore you." Those words were barebly audible, setting your heart ablaze. Down and down you go, into the pit of lust and yearning, but the slam of a wooden door makes you shoot up immediately, straightening your posture and hopping off his lap.

If anyone ever witnessed this, they would have told you this could have been straight out of a romance novel. However, the one who actually spectates the scenario before him, can't believe his eyes. "Oh great heavens (Y-Y/n) what are you doi- TORA-O! HANDS OFF MY PRINCESS! You . . you-", it is Sanji, who loses his mind, catching you red handed, or rather red footed, as his leg begins to burn up in a bright red flame, about to attack the Surgeon. Law takes a stand before you, shielding you from the peering gawks of the perverted cook. "Are you blind? Not only my hands, my lips were on her as well. You should get your eyes checked, Black-Leg-ya.", provoking Sanji with his trademark smirk, he prepares his fighting stance, ready to defend any incoming rash assaults.

"I'll grind you to dust!", you hear your fellow Straw Hat yell at your lover. Trafalgar looks over his shoulder and reassures you with a mellow expression: "I apologize, but there is something I must clarify first with this dumbass. We will continue our little 'one on one' session another time, my heart."

The world changes around you, finding yourself in the women's hot springs again. You are overwhelmed by his genuine care and tenderness towards you, seeing those steel orbs soften, as soon as you enter the frame. Love incites your every fibre, hiding your face in your palms and squealing out of sheer disbelief.

Besides you having a heart attack, war breaks lose on the other side of the fence, hearing Sanji throw evil curses at Law, who deftly counters in sarcastic comments and arrogant notes.

What a night. Nonetheless you can't help but ponder, what would have happend if you weren't disturbed by Sanji? Oh what a night this could have been. And perhaps your darling doctor is devoted to continue where you left off?

Better be prepared, the nights in Wano Kuni grow colder with each day passing.

#one piece #one piece law #one piece trafalgar law #law x fem!reader #law x y/n #law x female reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic fluff #slightly suggestive #light angst #possessive behaviour #+18 #one piece request #one piece requests #Wano Kuni Nights

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mimikusu · 1 year

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I love the art of your new OC! Can you tell us more about him? What's his name? (Take this as an invitation to ramble about his background and who he is as much as you want, I'm interested to know more <3)

Awwww! How sweet of you to ask! And to give me permission to ramble about him! There's not that much to him, yet, but I can share a short thing I've written for them some time ago.

This is about this piece, in case someone comes across this solitarily.

Simon's eyes were empty, the smile tugging at his lips almost perfect.

"Is that so?"

He asked, looking at the man at his opposite in a way that almost scared Nikolai. There was something behind all the anger, waiting to break through, to tear the other appart and Niko could swear that Ruben did see it as well.

"Maybe we should just..."

But he got interrupted by a sharp hiss from his right.

"Nobody asked for you to calm the waves, Nikolai!"

He turned his head and now that he was directly looking at him, Nikolai could feel his heart skip a beat. Only a fraction in time and space and he could feel the strong urge to jump up from where he was seated and run for the door as fast as he could. His body was glued to the chair, however, like the prey facing it's predator. He was loosing himself into these grey eyes, behind which the never ending cataclystic rage and hate was burning down every last bit that might have been human. No affection, not a glimps of anything but anger, as if he did not even recognize who he was talking to.

"Simon, I..."

"Silence!"

And Niko fell silent.

He did not say a word for as long as it took Simon to eradicate Ruben rethorically, finally collapsing with a sneeze harsh enough to shake the glasses on the table in front of them.

"Gesundheit."

It was the way Ruben adressed Simon, fully unimpressed of the scene he had caused, that did draw Nikolai's attention. He thought Simon would have Ruben's head for this, but the man only sighed, took a deep breath and sneezed a second time before he seemed to be able to control himself again.

"Bless you. Maybe with a cold like this, it would have been wise to stay in bed."

Simon lifted his head to stare at Ruben. He opened his mouth and closed it again, uneffectively stifling a cough in the process. A fraction in time - a glitch in the matrix. His face crumpled and instantly returned to normal, his posture perfect as always.

Niko's jaw dropped almost all the way to the floor. It seemed he did not know the person next to him nearly as well as he'd thought. Simon's facade was perfect enough to make him believe he was as well as he could be. Now that Ruben had outed him, however, he seemed so obviously sick. Simon's lips were parted ever so slightly, his nose unmistakeably pink-ish and his eyes were circled by dark shadows that he'd thought to be the result of another night spent in front of his desk. There was a barely noticable layer of sweat that covered his forehead, speaking of the very bad shape his friend's health actually seemed to be in.

"Simon, did you...?"

Simon's gaze turned to Nikolai and still, there was a lot of barely contained anger, yet the way he frowned he looked much more exhausted and as if he desperately tried to fight off another sneeze.

"Goodness, Simon, we could have postponed!" Nikolai sighed.

Simon's frown deepend and suddenly Ruben grinned, placing a hand on Niko's forearm.

"Don't worry dear, you're not the only one he's very succesfully hiding these things from."

He leaned forward and lifted a hand to reach over the table.

"The way his nose wrinkles up here..." and with this, he very softly placed a finger right inbetween Simon's eyes.

Hastily - almost panically - Simon lifted his hand yet again, his body shaken by the third sneeze he'd so hard tried to fight off.

"Ruben!"

Ruben smiled and leaned back again.

"You're an open book, Simon! Whether you like it or not."

"Bless you..." Nikolai mumbled, his eyes fixated on the point where Ruben's finger had been only seconds ago.

Again, he started to question himself why Ruben knew so much about Simon, while to him the man seemed to be almost a stranger sometimes.

It was with great harshness, that Simon got up, making Nikolai almost jump with the sudden movement.

"I'm in no need for your so called 'expertise' anyways!"

"Well, if you say so..." Ruben was composure himself. Still sitting, he gazed up at Simon, who definitely looked intimidating the way he stared down on him, but he did knew as much as Nikolai and Ruben did, that he had no choice whatsoever to rely on Ruben's 'expertise' with his bank being Ruben's major client. It was a classic stalemate situation and Simon being unwilling to accknowledge it, however, did not change that fact.

"Well then..." Now Ruben got up as well. "Let's continue this talk once you got over your cold."

He smiled almost bitterly which seemed to spark Simon's rage even further. He turned around and abruptly left the cafe, leaving Ruben and Nikolai behind.

Ruben sat back down with a sigh and a frown, his eyes glistening with a curious wetness that made Nikolai feel sorry for the man. He leaned in a little closer, placing a hand on small shoulders and Ruben turned his head, his face almost distorted with a sad smile.

"Are you going to tell me now, what it is, the two of you have going on?" He asked and whiped a sole tear from Ruben's cheek.

"He's someone I used to know..." Ruben replied mystically. "In a time where things were different... before I transitioned."

There was not much need for further information and Nikolai could see how much it pained Ruben to even think of it. They were sharing a burden with this man both seemed to be magically attracted to, like rubble in his debris field.

Nikolai smiled and leaned his cheek against Ruben's in a way that he could even feel him shivering ever so slightly.

"Don't worry, love. You will be okay now. I promise."

---------- // ------------

Maybe I should add some words of explanation still.

Actually, Ruben first made his appearance in that christmas-thing I never finished... and my mind created him, because I so much suck for unrequited love. They both studied together and Simon being Simon did simply leave him behind as he decided to abond study. So, from Ruben's perspective everything was somewhat okay-ish (as good as it gets... i mean we're talking about Simon still) and from one day to the other he was just gone for good. They did not meet again, until fate made it so, that the firm Ruben works at as an accountant, asigned him to the department of the bank Simon works in, forcing them to be stuck with one another.

Also, Ruben is transgender and the moment he came out to everyone, Simon started acting weird. It would be logical to think that Simon's decision with abandoning study wasn't motivated mostly by the issues with Ruben's gender, but it was convenient to solve two issues at once by just abandon him as well as the study which was boring him to death at the time.

Finally, since Nikolai is polyamorous and Simon pretending to be okay with it, I like to think that Ruben and Nikolai have an on-off relationship, that mostly is Niko turning to Ruben in an attempt for a more warm and compassionate kind of love, thinking how Simon does not stop talking about how he's only waiting for the right woman to pass his way so he can have a family and children and abandon Nikolai for good. And the way things are with Simon and Ruben, Ruben does not know about them being together, as both, Nikolai and Simon agreed on keeping to themselfs for the time being.

Thank you for the cance! Sorry it's so long! 😭

#thank you so much for asking!#sorry this is so long!#and pls excuse my english #as it's not as good as I may want it to be... but I hope it's readable at least.#i'm very grateful for you being so nice as to ask #especially since any kind of relationship I can think of is toxic as hell #sorry for that one!

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redbone135 · 2 years

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For the Book Asks!

I; III; IV; VI; VII; IX; XIII; XIV

(Lol I SO did not have to write these on a sticky note first🙊🤣)

Used, borrowed, or new? Honestly, new is my favorite, nice crisp pages and blank clean margins to write all my notes in. But it's less practical - lately I've been doing ARCs and Gifts since it fits with my budget and the kind of book I'm trying to read is really expensive to buy new.

Paperback or hardback? Paperback, always. I know it's very dorky 90s James Dean wannabe, but I've normally got a paperback tucked into my back pocket. I don't like books that aren't pocket sized because they are harder to bring places and I don't like being without a book.

Where do you like to read? Everywhere. Not kidding. This week I have read in my office, in my car, in the park, in bed, at a fancy work event... I always have a book and I'll read everywhere. But I guess my favorite place to read is my leather recliner in front of the fireplace I built, with a cup of something warm and absolute silence in the house.

Old book smell or new book smell? Old book smell makes me sneeze and it kinda itches my throat. I suffer through it because some of my old books have sentimental value to them, but I vastly prefer new book smell.

Favorite series? I don't think anything can replace the Mistborn trilogy in my heart. It's a great series, but it's also taken on some very personal meaning in my life, and so I think that'll always be my favorite.

Book you won't read? I don't have any one specific book I avoid - but I will quit reading anything where a kid dies on page. I've stopped reading only a handful of books in my life and that's always been the reason. It's also not something I will ever do in my own writing - to the point that scenes where kids are hurt in my writing hold no weight to my friends because they know the kid is getting better or I wouldn't write it.

Worst book you've read? Probably one of the ones I've quit for the above reason. Worst book I've finished is rough though. I read a lot of ARCs and Indies which is a total gamble. There have been some pretty bad ones in that batch. I also hold a special hatred for Dune because I think it's way over hyped, and I suffered through the first book to impress a girl, even though it was complete gibberish, and then she wasn't even impressed, just wanted me to read the next one. So yeah - I'll go with Dune is probably my least favorite non-indie book I've read.

First book you remember reading? The Hobbit. My dad read it to me, but I remember it vividly. He did funny voices for the dragon and it just kinda stuck with me and created a life long love of reading - and also reading out loud. It might be the inspiration for my first tattoo - don't tell my mom :) The first book I remember reading on my own? That's harder, I've been reading since I was very littler, so I don't have a ton of memories of starting, and obviously I read picture books and stuff before chapter books, but I think the first chapter books I remember reading, because I got so into them I insisted on reading them to my mom before bed the same way my dad had read to me before he left, was the Charlie Bone series. It was my first introduction to a well plotted and foreshadowed series and I just became obsessed with the writing style.

#ask game #book nerd #also I promise I'm writing back to your message but I got distracted doing this and now I have to shower before an event I have today #But I will write back some time this weekend - I promise!

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little-corritrice · 4 days

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Oliver ~ Sick

Walking into the house, I once again sneezed. I rubbed my nose with a tissue, already knowing I'm getting sick. I groaned as my headache was getting worse, and I was feeling extremely hot. I went to the bedroom, going to sit on the bed. I took off my clothes, which took around 30 minutes. Oliver wasn't going to be home till next week, making me sigh in partial relief. He didn't need to know I was sick. I went to the bathroom, running myself a hot bath. Even though I could tell I was going to have a fever, I still sat in hot water. After a while, I decided to get out and go lay down. I took some medicine, hoping it would help me. I laid in bed, turning off everything and locking the front door before going to sleep.

Two Days Later ~

I was feeling absolutely horrible. Luckily, the only thing I had was a fever, headaches, and nausea. Because of this, I haven't ate in a while since nothing would stay down. If there's one thing I hate, throwing up is definitely on my list. I laid back in bed, letting the medicine lull me to sleep. Though, I was woken up by something touching my head. "Your burning up!" Oliver exclaimed, making me wince from the sudden loud noise. "Oh, baby. I'm sorry. Why didn't you call me?" He asked, grabbing a wet towel, and placing it on my forehead. I whined as it was ice-cold on my skin. "I didn't want to bother you." I whimpered out, groaning as I tried sitting up. "I'm sorry you came home to this. To me like this." I apologized, but he grabbed my face in his hands, staring into my eyes.

He shook his head, rubbing my cheeks. "Don't you ever say that. I don't care if your sick, love. I'm not mad. I just wish I knew so I could have come home sooner and helped you." He said, kissing my forehead. "Have you eaten anything?" He asked, making me shake my head. "Baby, you need to eat. Let me go make you some soup." He said, but I grabbed his wrist. "I don't want to eat." I said, tears coming to my eyes as everything was hurting still. "Why?" He asked softly, stroking my head. "I don't want to." I whimpered, tears falling more. "Hey, hey. It's okay. Have you been throwing it up?" He asked, and I only nodded. "We'll eat something light. Try for me, yeah?" He asked, and I hesitantly nodded. He helped me out of bed, taking me downstairs to the kitchen. He made sure to dim the lights so my headache wouldn't worsen.

~~~

After eating, Oliver had me in a cold bath. I whined as he poured some water on my back. "I know, but you are burning up." He said, kissing my head. "I want to go lay down." I said, trying to stand up. He helped me up, wrapping me in a towel. "I'm sor-" I was about to say, but Oliver hushed me by kissing me softly. He pulled away, finishing drying me off. "Don't. You have no reason to apologize, y/n. I'm your husband, and it's my duty to watch over you and take care of you." He said, kissing my head. "Now, let's go lay down." He said, pulling his shirt over my head after helping me get on my undergarments. I walked with him, and got under the covers, already freezing now. Oliver got under with me after changing, and I clung to his bare chest as he was a personal heater after all. "I love you." I whispered out, kissing his chin. He smiled down at me, giving my head a kiss. "I love you too." He whispered, making me smile before falling asleep.

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animegirl2016 · 6 days

Text

Dewa Masaomi X reader

Hello! It's been a minute since I've written on here but I decided that this character needed some love. He is so underrated in K Project but I love him! Anyways, this story is based on my personal experience going to the dentist, enjoy!

You sat down next to your boyfriend at the bar, dinner being served. Tatara made rice, porkchops, and green beans; you were absolutely starving! You started eating some of the rice, it was delicious and cut a piece of meat. You took one bite, and immediately dropped your fork holding your cheek. The clansmen looked at you in concern, "What's wrong, (y/n)?" Dewa asked, "My tooth shifted when I took a bite, and now my mouth really hurts." "Your wisdom tooth?" Tatara said

you nodded, not wanting to cause more pain. "No problem, I'll take you to the dentist tomorrow." Dewa offered, "No thanks, I'm sure it'll pass, I'm fine!" All the boys fixed you with a stern look, including your boyfriend. See this all started almost two years ago, when you had a pain in your mouth, so you went to the dentist. The dentist said it was a bad tooth and needed to be pulled. Let's just say it was a very traumatic experience, and the tooth didn't come out that day.

You soon found out that it was a wisdom tooth, but because it didn't hurt anymore, you never told Dewa, until the other side of your mouth started hurting, and he practically had to drag you there for this dentist to tell you you had another wisdom tooth that needed to come out, and the jig was up.

Your loving but annoying boyfriend kept telling you to go, but you always found an excuse. Now it looks like you didn't have a choice, so you agreed. The next morning came around and Dewa showed up to your apartment, and as he expected, you were nowhere to be found. "(y/n), come on, I know you're scared, but if we don't go, it'll only be worse for you." He looked in all of the rooms leaving the kitchen last.

You thought of the brilliant idea to hide under the counter cabinet, it was big enough and he'd never find you ha! That is until karma's a bitch and you let out a sneeze. You freeze hearing footsteps getting closer to your hiding spot and nearly scream when Dewa opens the door. He grabs your wrist, pulling you out and over his shoulder.

Once in his car he shuts the door, trying to open it, you realize he put the child lock on so you couldn't escape. "Baby, look at me, I know you're not happy with me right now. But I promise you'll feel so much better, I love you, and I want you to get this taken care of. Besides they're sedating you so you'll be fine."

Arriving at the office, Dewa comes with you to the front desk to ensure you check in and to also show that he'll be the one driving you home afterwards. The receptionist looks at the paperwork before uttering the horrible words, "We ran out of the sedation pills, so you'll have to use novacain." You automatically tense up, you hate needles, and considering you had a low tolerance and a very sensitive mouth, yeah you were passing on that.

"Well would you look at the time, got to go!" You start to get to the door before your boyfriend grabs the back of your shirt. "She'll take it." You glared at him, feeling absolute betrayal towards him. The receptionist looks at you kindly, "Don't you worry sweetheart, he's a trained oral surgeon, he's been doing this for 20 years he'll have you out in ten minutes flat!" Sighing, you agree and wait for your doom.

An assistant calls your name, and Dewa gently pushes you to stand. She brings you into a room, and tells you the doctor will be with you shortly. The man comes in and is very patient with you, and reassuring you. he gives you the shots, and leaves to wait for them to work. By the time he comes in, the whole left side of your mouth is numb, including your tongue.

He places a mouthpiece to help keep your mouth open, and he was done in five minutes! You were in such disbelief he showed you your tooth. After giving you instruction on what and what not to do, he sent you on your way. Dewa was waiting for you and chuckled when you hugged him. "How do you feel, baby?" "Much better, but I want to go home and sleep, come cuddle with me?" "Absolutely, now let's go home."

Phew! Sorry it's so long, but a lot has happened to me on this journey. Sidenote, I waited almost TWO YEARS to have this tooth removed, that's how scared I was. My best friend/roommate brought me to my appointment, had to drag me from her car and had to practically stand by the door so I wouldn't bolt. Looking back on it now, I laugh at my behavior. I'm still recovering from the surgery this past week, but I figured I'd give you a laugh. I will update soon!

#K Pro #Dewa

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x OC | Chapter 14

Masterlist

Next Chapter

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Celia falls ill after her moment in the rain, and Tommy enlists Polly’s help to look after her. Polly gives Celia a glimpse into Tommy’s past, and Celia shares a sleepy confession about their future. Then, Celia meets the guys at the Garrison after their interesting trip to the auction, where they met a certain woman horse trainer that makes Celia’s stomach do flips - and not in the good way.

Warnings: language, smoking, illness, violence (typical to series)

Word Count: 3829

A/N: I think I might die with all this fluff between these two! Let’s hope a wrench doesn’t get thrown into their plans now...

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!

———

And get sick Celia did.

The days after her moment in the rain were filled with a runny nose, loads of sneezes, body aches and chills, and a splitting headache that just wouldn't go away. She had been hunkered down at her apartment, thankfully telling both of her employers that she was too sick to come in before it got too bad. She had practically everybody over checking on her. Vivian and William had stopped by in the first few days, and although Celia felt like crap, she was happy that there were no hard feelings between her and William and that their friendship was still strong.

Sophia stopped by and talked her ear off with medical nonsense that Celia didn't understand, so she just assured the nurse, who meant well, that she would drink her fluids and stay by the fire.

Her mother dropped by and made her some hot meals, telling her about what was going on at home, as well as the news that Joseph had written to her telling her that Samuel's condition had completely gone away. Celia was very happy to hear that.

Even Finn stopped by, checking on Celia when Tommy was in London, conducting business. He was incredibly awkward, standing in the kitchen of the apartment as she attempted to tell him what she needed, but she couldn't hate him for trying.

Her favorite was when Tommy stopped by to check on her, which he did every day that he was able. His presence just made her feel safe. Like she was going to get through this.

She was lying exactly where she had been for most of the week, on the couch, when a knock sounded on her front door. "It's open!" she called, knowing that she shouldn't leave the door unlocked, but it was the middle of the day. Who could harm her then?

"C?" the person at the door called as they opened it, making Celia's heart flutter.

"On the couch, Tom," she mustered up the energy to speak, slowly sitting up to see him walking in and shutting the door with a smaller sized bouquet of flowers in his hands. "I've seen it all now. Tommy Shelby has officially gone soft," she remarked, her smile growing as she took in the gesture he did for her.

"You tell anyone and you're finished," he gave her a serious look, pointing a finger in her direction before it melted quickly, the usual soft smile he wore when only in her presence becoming visible. "How're you feeling?" he asked her then, changing out the flowers in the vase with these fresh ones before he moved over to where she was laying.

"The same. Can't stop shivering, but at the same time I feel like I'm burning up. I'm happy that you're here though," Celia responded, accepting his kiss to her forehead before Tommy stood straight to see her smile then.

"Right then, sit up," he said, motioning for her to sit with his hand. Celia furrowed her brows but did as he said, watching as he sat down in the empty space she had created. "C'mere," he whispered, his hand going to her shoulder then before he guided her down to lay on his lap. She twisted her neck up to smile at him, and he returned it, his fingers twisting through her hair then.

"You're too good to me, Tommy," she breathed, curling closer to the blanket, though the extra heat he was providing was a big help.

"'M just repaying it, love. I know you'd do it for me," he stated, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair as he stared ahead at the fire.

"I would," she agreed. "How was London?" she asked then, knowing he had to go there for business and had been there for the past few days.

He then launched into the story of his business endeavors in the big city - including only what he felt that she needed to know, of course. Celia was happy to hear that Ada was doing well, and she made Tommy promise that he would take her to see his sister and nephew as soon as she got better. Celia, in turn, told him all about what she had been doing since he'd been away, which was pretty much laying on the couch, eating soup and missing him. She felt a bit embarrassed to admit that last one, but it was true. She missed him.

They sat there in peace until Celia's body started shaking more violently, so much that Tommy was also shaking from being sat underneath her, "are you alright, love?" he questioned, peering down at her as she clung tightly to the blanket that was placed around her.

"Yeah...just, just uh...yeah," she cut her sentence short, unable to form a complete sentence as the coldness was too much to bear.

Tommy was unconvinced, and his suspicions were confirmed when he reached down to feel her forehead. She was burning up. "You're not ok, Celia. You're burning up," he stated, moving her slowly so that he could get up and move to the door.

"Where...where're you going, Tommy?" Celia questioned, sounding like a small child whose friend had left them on the playground.

Tommy didn't respond, but instead opened her front door and peeked his head out, "Aye, David!" Celia heard him call to someone then, "get Polly to come here. She should be at the shop. Tell her that I need her. Go fucking quick," there was a sense of urgency in his voice and it made the man nod before he took off on his task. Tommy came back in to her then, crouching down beside her. "I've sent one of my men to go get Polly. She knows what to do better than I do," he told her then, his one hand grabbing onto her clammy one after she reached it out to him.

"Tommy, I'm ok, really," Celia told him, not wanting his aunt to have to come all the way over here for her pathetic cold.

"Celia," he had a warning tone in his voice, telling her that she had no chance of winning this one. "She knows what she's doing better than I do," he told her again.

"I think you were doing just fine," she told him, her eyes half closed as she didn't have much energy to begin with.

"I wasn't doin' anything though, love," Tommy chuckled at her sleepy comment.

"You were sittin' with me, and that was making me feel better."

Tommy nodded, releasing her hand before she got the hint and propped herself up again so that he could sit down, allowing her to place her head in his lap once more. "I'm gonna have to move when Polly comes," he told her and she nodded, for now enjoying the warmth that had returned.

Tommy was sitting in the same spot, his hand slowly moving up and down Celia's arm as she slept, and he was dozing off himself until a loud knocking sounded on the door. "Come!" he called to the person, sure that it was his aunt.

Soon enough, Polly was stepping through the doorway. "Jesus Christ, Tom," she breathed as she took her coat off and set it on the chair, eyes focused on her nephew, who was sitting with a sleeping figure on his lap. "Why'd you cause such a fuss about this?" she asked him.

"She was really shaking. I didn't know what to do, Pol," he answered her, not beating around the truth. He was worried about Celia.

"And Polly knows what's best," Polly grinned and Tommy let her have her moment, nodding along with her. "Did you make her something to eat?" she asked then. Tommy just blinked. "Soup, some toast, anything?" she looked at him with wide eyes.

"No, Pol, I didn't make anything because I don't know how to fucking do any of it!" he hissed, keeping his voice down because Celia was still sleeping on his lap.

"You're hopeless, boy," Polly shook her head with a laugh and Tommy tipped his head to the back of the couch, not in the mood for joking.

"Look, I'm not in the mood, Pol. Can you please just make her some soup? She's probably got everything it needs over there," he waved her towards the kitchen, where Polly was already rummaging through the cupboards.

"She's got a whole fucking garden in here," she remarked, taking what ripened vegetables she needed to start the soup.

It was then that Celia stirred awake, propping herself up on Tommy's thighs as she looked around confusedly. "C. Are you ok, love?" Tommy asked her as she sat up straight and looked around, still half-asleep.

"Yeah, 'm alright. Just need something to drink. My throat's dry," she said, her hand going to her throat then to send a physical cue as well.

"Get her something to drink, Thomas," Polly chimed in from the kitchen, making Celia look in her direction.

"Oh, hi, Polly," she sent as much of a smile as she could muster in her direction. "When did you get here?" she asked, not remembering ever letting her into the apartment.

"Thomas sent for me while you were sleeping. Needed me to come help him since he can't do a bloody thing for himself," she responded, sending Tommy a smug smirk as she worked on chopping the vegetables in front of her.

"Don't start, Pol," Tommy said in a warning tone. Celia couldn't help but laugh. He then handed her a glass of water, and she thanked him before drinking almost half of it.

"You've got quite the garden here, Celia. Must take a lot of time to keep it up, in an apartment no less," Polly complimented her ledges that were filled with plants.

"Thanks. What can I say? I'm a plant lady," Celia smiled sheepishly. One of the things this illness showed her was that she had absolutely no filter when she wasn't feeling like herself. Polly chuckled at her statement before she dumped the vegetables in the pot, the sound of boiling water echoing around the room.

Finished with that for now, she moved over to where Celia and Tommy were sitting. She then placed her hand on Celia's forehead with pursed lips. "You're still pretty hot. Thomas, go wet a rag with some cold water," she ordered her nephew, who nodded and stood from the couch to retrieve one from Celia's powder room.

"Thanks for coming over and helping out, Polly. You really didn't have to," Celia took the time to thank the woman standing in front of her.

"You're family now, love. We always help family," Polly smiled at her before Tommy came back with the wet rag. He gave it to Polly then and she set it behind Celia's neck, the coldness made Celia shiver, but it also helped soothe the burning feeling that she was feeling. "The soup should be finished shortly. I just threw something together quickly," she stated, sitting down on the chair before looking at Tommy, who had just gotten his pack of cigarettes out. She watched as he fished one out and stuck it between his lips, only speaking to him when he was going to strike a match. "If you will be smoking, it will be done outside. She doesn't need any smoke in her lungs," she ordered him and he sighed, deciding that removing the cigarette from his lips and putting it back in the container was better than leaving the apartment.

The three stayed silent then, Celia laying on the couch, Tommy leaning against the wall, and Polly sitting in the arm chair. "I'll be back," Tommy stated then, pushing himself off the wall before he moved to the door of the apartment.

"Those things have a hold on him," Polly remarked, obviously referring to the cigarettes that he smoked so often. "Always needing to numb himself with that and the drink," she continued. Celia just nodded, unsure of what to say. "He's been through a lot these past few years, Celia...between the war and all this business."

"I know," Celia nodded her head. Did she really know though? She only heard bits and pieces of the business he was involved in, and what she knew about the war, she knew from her brother. Tommy didn't necessarily talk about either.

"You've made an impact on him though. I haven't seen him act this caring since Grace left," Polly said then, making Celia's heart swell at the statement.

"Who's Grace?" Celia felt dumb asking, but Polly had said the name so freely, like she expected her to know who she was.

"She's a woman from Thomas' past. Worked as a barmaid at the Garrison to get close to him. She was actually a spy working for an inspector," she explained, noticeably shivering when mentioning the inspector, "she left him for America. Was the first person he got close to after the war."

"Oh..." Celia trailed off, not knowing what more to say. "I didn't know about her."

"Thomas tends to use forgetting as a coping mechanism."

"I'm not surprised he didn't tell me about her then," Celia nodded just as the door opened, Tommy stepping back into the apartment.

"Soup smells about done, Pol," he stated, making Polly stand from the chair.

"You know that much about it," Polly quipped, making Celia giggle. "Come over and eat, dear," she called for Celia then, waving her over as she poured the soup into a bowl. Celia listened to her, slowly standing from the couch before she shuffled over to the table, where a bowl was ready for her.

"This smells amazing, Polly. Thanks so much for making it for me," Celia smiled before she brought a spoonful up to her lips, blowing on it before she put it into her mouth. "Tastes amazing too."

"I'm happy you like it. If that's all then, I'll be leaving," she stated then, looking between Tommy and Celia.

"Thanks for coming, Pol," Tommy stated as his aunt walked towards the door. Celia piggybacked off of his statement, making Polly turn to face them with a smile before she opened the door and moved outside. "How are you feeling now, love?" Tommy asked her as she finished up the bowl, feeling full and warm now.

"Better. I'm tired though. Come to my room with me?" she asked then, standing before she outstretched her arm for him.

"Of course," he nodded, a small smile gracing his features before he took her hand and allowed her to lead him into her room. Contrary to the time she spent at Tommy's home, she didn't give two cares about what the pair was wearing. She just fell down into the bed with the robe she had covering her figure.

"Come here, Tommy," she whispered then and he obliged after slipping out of his suit jacket. He then slipped in next to her under the covers, allowing her to place her head on his chest, his arm going to rest under her neck. "You're too good to me," she whispered, her eyes closed as she reveled in the moment.

"I've been told," Tommy responded, chuckling slightly.

"Well I'm telling you again," she picked her head up to smile at him, stretching her neck to press a kiss to his jaw. Seeing his smile when she pulled away, she moved her body so that some of her weight was now on Tommy. He didn't mind it though. "Our child will have the most beautiful eyes," Celia admitted after a moment of silence had passed, focused on tracing her index finger down the bridge of Tommy's nose and over the freckles of his cheeks as his eyes momentarily fluttered shut. She was content on his chest, his leg slotted between hers as he held her close.

"Our child?" he questioned, his eyebrows raising slightly at her admission.

"Shit, did I say that out loud?!" She squeaked, blush covering her cheeks as she dropped her head to hide against his chest. Again with the words just falling from her lips when she wasn't feeling herself. Here she was admitting this to the man who just revealed his feelings for her a few weeks earlier. She felt pathetic.

"You did, love," Tommy responded, chuckling slightly. He'd noticed that she rarely swore, so hearing her say a curse word was rather unusual, and dare he say...adorable. Celia continued to hide, waiting for embarrassment to fade, still she couldn't stop the butterflies when she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. "They will have a nice set of eyes though," he admitted then, his voice low like he was sharing a secret. Maybe the secret was that Tommy Shelby was indeed becoming soft.

"You think?" mirth had returned to Celia's eyes as she lifted her head to meet his crystal blue ones again.

"Yes, I do. You've beautiful eyes love," he said, a slight smile on his face as he studied her hazel irises. They fascinated him in the sense that they never stayed the same color and seemed to change with the day. Today they were a pale blue that made the hints of a darker green and brown stand out more than usual.

"I was talking about your eyes, Tommy," Celia stated, blushing once more at his compliment.

"So they're really going to luck out either way," Tommy grinned then, chuckling once more as Celia brushed her nose against his before he leaned in slightly to press their lips together.

"Don't kiss me!" she shrieked, pulling away once she realized what was going on. "I'm going to get you sick!"

"I'll be alright, C," he assured her.

"Sickness doesn't work like that, Tom," she stated, stifling a yawn as she got her words out.

"I'll take my chances," he smiled up at her, brushing fallen hairs out of her face then.

"I feel sleepy," she admitted then.

"Go to sleep then. I'll be here for you," he told her, and that was all she needed to hear before she fell asleep against his chest.

——

One week later, Celia was feeling much better and was ready to be out in the world once more. She was currently sitting with Esme in the snug at the Garrison. Finn had gotten word that the older Shelby brothers were coming back from the auction they set off to, where Tommy was planning to buy a horse to put into the derby. They sat talking about whatever came to mind before the door to the snug opened, John walking in first then followed by Tommy, Michael, and finally Arthur, who Celia immediately noticed had large, reddish purple bruises spread across his face. "What happened to you, Arthur?" Celia asked, shock filling her features. Last time she checked, horse auctions didn't usually end with people getting beat up.

"He got into a fight with a man who pulled a gun on Tommy," John responded, grinning over at his oldest brother with pride.

"A gun?!" she was even more shocked now, her worried eyes falling on Tommy. She did a surface level check and didn't see anything other than stress etched into his features. "Are you ok, Tommy?" she asked then, moving over to take his face into her hands. The secret between them was out now, and Celia didn't mind showing displays of affection towards him. Which was fine because Tommy enjoyed keeping his hands on her, letting the world know she was his.

"I'm fine, love," he assured her, watching as she breathed a sigh of relief, taking his word for it.

"You should be worrying about me, Cel. I'm the one with the bruising," Arthur jokingly stated, making her send him a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, I'm surprised there isn't a fucking bruise around your neck from us having to subdue you so you didn't beat that man to a pulp," John remarked, clapping his brother on the back.

"He was trying to take a shot at me brother," Arthur responded with a shrug of his shoulders, like this thinking was second nature.

"Well, besides the assassination attempt, how was the auction?" Esme asked from her place behind John, her arms draped over his shoulders.

"It went really well. Tommy got the winning bid on a horse, and met a high end trainer, named May Carleton," Michael gave the ladies the rundown.

"He impressed her with his words as usual. He somehow managed to get her to work on training his horse," Arthur stated, making Celia's eyes fall on Tommy. She watched his face shift in nature, his eyes boring back into hers. Like he was telling her not to worry.

"I think it's just cuz she found him attractive," John spoke up, unknowingly stirring the pot. Celia kept her eyes trained on her lover, unsure of what to think at the moment. "Otherwise she'd never take a chance on a piece of Birmingham trash like him," he remarked then, making the very man he was teasing send a glare in his direction. John held up his hands in defense then, letting out a chuckle.

"Would you like to leave, Celia?" Tommy asked the woman standing off to his side then, the chances of his statement only falling on her ears diminishing as the room quieted down the second he spoke.

"Sure," she nodded, allowing him to put her coat on and take her hand before he began leading her out of the snug.

"Don't let the welcome home festivities wait any longer!" Arthur called behind then, laughter coming from the snug as Celia felt her cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, fuck off, Arthur!" was Tommy's response. Celia stayed quiet and let Tommy wrap his arm around her shoulders as he led her out of the bar and onto the street. They walked in silence until he decided to speak up, "so that thing with May that guys were talking about..."

"I know, Tommy," she cut him off, already knowing the words he was going to say. "It's ok."

"We just talked about my horse. She agreed to train it for the derby," he explained to her, watching from the corner of his eyes as she nodded at him.

"I believe you, and that's good," she told him, trying to believe those words as she said them. There was something in the back of her mind, nagging her though.

"Let's go home," he said a bit further down the road, pressing a kiss to her temple before they continued the rest of the way to Watery Lane.

Celia tried to get the mention of this woman horse trainer out of her head and focus on enjoying her time with Tommy but it still remained. She just hoped he wasn't lying to her. And that she wasn't lying to herself.

———

Tagged: @mootiemoose @theshelbyclan @alreadybroken-ts @cloudofdisney @stevie75 @honey-im-hotdog @kagome1414

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #peakyxtommy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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okayeojin · 2 years

Text

loona reaction to their s/o producing their songs

💌 :: fluff :: [gender neutral]

♡ :: heejin

she would spend hours at your studio, poking her head inside to ask "can i come in?"

squeaking happily when you of course allow her

she'd be so hyper and optimistic that she could help you any way you wanted, but she underestimated how much of a workaholic you were

she is so into every part of the process at the beginning, but then starts taking more and more breaks

would probably end up on the couch of your studio, writing some lyrics on her own, with the intention of showing them to you later

she would probably fall asleep on it like a puppy, and when you woke her up around 3am because you were leaving the studio and couldn't of course lock her in, she would complain for no reason

"why didn't you wake me up?? i could've helped!"

she's adorable. so you kiss her forehead and promise her she'd help you the next day

after the song got released she’d talk about it so much with her fans, “doesn’t it sound super cool? amazing people worked on this song! it’s great, right?”

♡ :: hyunjin

never enters your studio without something to eat or drink

would mostly keep to herself and watch you from afar

even snapping some pictures at your focused self in front of the computer screen, thinking you looked so hot

definitely gives her opinion whenever you asked her, unsure about a specific part or sound

she acts so cocky whenever you praise her for one of her inputs, thanking her for her genius ideas

"i knew you'd need me, y/n, that's why you got the best girlfriend in the world", finger guns pointing at you, making you roll your eyes playfully

so creative, would have so many innovative ideas, including her in the process would be a delight

also writing lyrics! she'd be so happy working together with her dear members and her lovely s/o

gets so proud every time she reads your name at the first place in the credits of their songs TT

♡ :: haseul

would call, text you and even personally show up at your studio 50 times a day to show you some idead she had regarding the lyrics for the new song

"i sent you a text 1 minute and 23 seconds ago and you haven't replied, so im here now"

takes things very very seriously

not only does she want to please her fans and everyone around, but also takes so much pride knowing that she contributed in producing the song

would also assist you in every single recording session, praising every single member before and after recording

a delight to work with

would also cheer you up and remind you to take breaks, kissing your cheeks super often when seeing you so focused on your job

♡ :: yeojin

always has an excuse to visit you at your studio

"oh i have to give something to you- no yeah it's urgent- no! it can't wait til tomorrow! aight i guess im coming over to the studio"

spins in your chair

so excited to be in your company, even if you didn't speak much because she understood you were busy of course, but simply being there would make her happy

having such a young talented s/o would fill her heart with pure joy

asks you if you needed anything, "i'm grabbing something to drink at the cafe down the street, you want anything?"

no but literally the proudest gf

brags about you to her school friends

"our songs are so good thanks to you, wow can you believe it" and despite you telling her that the girls themselves played a huge part in making the song unique, she would still insist

"YES BUT YOU ARE THE GENIUS"

♡ :: vivi

sits silently by your side. so silently that you might start thinking she may not feel well

constantly scared that the minimum noise is gonna distract you, therefore she is mortified whenever she sneezes even

you laugh at her "you know you can breathe, right?", "also you never bother me" reassuring her that she could of course move around and make some small talk

make her sit on your lap, i beg of you

she would love feeling so close to you, probably even falls asleep for a tiny bit, immediately apologizing as soon as she wakes up

would most likely enter your work space with the only intention of being in your company and acting like a safe place for you whenever you felt frustrated

she's there for hugs and words of encouragement, and she would give you so many TT

♡ :: kim lip

teach her!!!

she'd always be there when you were recording the members' parts, giving some advices and such

wouldn't be arrogant acting as if she knew how to do your own job better than you of course, but would constantly be so eager to lend you a helping hand

which you gladly accept every time

gives interesting input and always has something to say

compliments her genius s/o a lot of course, but would also suggest some minor changes from time to time, like "i think the fans would like it if-" or "what if we tried singing this part like this instead?"

idk she is a girlboss let her do what she needs to do

genuinely enjoys every single step of the music production process, so in awe at what you could do

♡ :: jinsoul

would also be 100% fascinated by your job

is mainly interested in the lyrics writing part, and constantly shyly suggests her own lyrics, hoping you'd take them into consideration, at least

i feel like she's very serious and professional whenever she enters your studio

even if you asked her "wanna sit on my lap while i work?" or even "wanna take a break?" she'd be like

"oh you think this is enough? maybe we should work more on this part"

it almost seems like she's more immersed in your own job than you, which couldn't make you any happier to be honest

you'd never see her more concentrated than when she sits next to you and starts putting down some lyrics ideas, or when she carefully listen to a snippet of the song you had just worked on

or when she puts her headphones on in the recording room and starts passionately singing

♡ :: choerry

omg so proud of her s/o

always hypes up every single thing you suggest, even if it's the smallest sample, shes like "omg sounds so good"

it's lowkey useless to ask for her honest opinion on anything, because she eats up whatever you have to offer, praising you to no end

lowkey makes you shy even if you've been in the industry for so long

gives kisses and hugs to you if she thinks youve been working for too long, she's super worried about your sleep schedule and mental + physical health ):

loves especially when it gets to the recording portion of the process and she can listen to her members sing

listens in awe to every single advice you give out, making a thousand mental notes as to not disappoint you and make you proud when it got to her turn

lives for your praises )): whenever you compliment her, she'd shriek in the recording room

♡ :: yves

would definitely keep you company at your studio

she'd be inspired by your music and would start thinking about dance moves on the spot

deadass

tells you "oh that sounds good" so much that she starts sounding like a broken record, making you giggle

even if you didn't ask for her opinion, she would intervene to tell you how much of a good work you were doing

would ask you for your permission to submit lyrics, and you'd be like "you dont even have to ask!!"

she'd be more than happy to help you, and would feel so accomplished whenever you complimented her on her ideas

♡ :: chuu

this cutie

she is so excited and proud about anything you do, really

but imagine her performing the song you produced

she wouldnt stop thinking about it, and would keep smiling just at the thought of her talented s/o spending time producing something so good for her and her group. even if it was an hardcore song or whatever. still smiling cutely the whole time

would constantly be singing along or humming to her album's b-sides if you took part in writing those too

if she ever went to an interview and they asked her about her favorite track in the album, 100% she would say the ones you produced

proud gf

has lunch at your studio if you refused to leave because you were too busy. and brings you your lunch as well, of course

would jump around and send you hearts from the recording booth whenever you told her "good job, that part sounded so good", making you blush and the rest of loona laugh at the interaction

♡ :: gowon

definitely sticks around during the whole process and she'd be so silent that you would forget she was there as well sometimes

wouldn't be of the best company because of how quiet she'd be, but still cutely brings you beverages and sends encouraging words and compliments your way

also would be like "i i dont know if this is wrong, but maybe we could do this" etc

shyly suggests minor changes or additions to your work in progess tracks, and responds excitedly whenever you decide to incorporate those suggestions into your work

but still, overall i think she has ideas but is too afraid to suggest them

would also refuse to leave without you, so more often than not she'd fall asleep TT

so excited to be one of the first people who gets to listen to the first drafts or even the whole song once it's ready

♡ :: olivia hye

deadass thinks you look hella cool in your studio, would come in every single day to stay with you

even just to admire you ops but also to hopefully learn a thing or two

is in awe at the whole process, gasps cutely whenever you play something on your keyboard or do anything on you computer

and you'd chuckle at her, explaining that you didn't do much just yet

just imagine her going like “for the bridge part i think something like this would be really cool” and attempt making sounds with her mouth, humming, hoping you’d understand what she meant

and when you fiddled with your computer for a while, creating a little snippet for her she’d be literally speechless, “how did you even do that”

you would amaze her so much that she’d be like “now show me how to do that”

after the song was finally released she wouldn’t be able to stop listening to it, smiling whenever the parts she suggested actually made it into the final version

masterlist˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

Text

OBSESSIVE STOLAS X Male Imp Pt.3

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

You continued your rhythm, hands roaming his body. Stolas was getting close.

His breathing became shallow, moans became more lewd.

The way you held him so close, the warmth you gave him just intensified the pleasure you were giving him.

Stolas was in a daze, pleasure numbed his brain. Pleasure gripped his mind, stopping him from thinking about anything but the pleasure you were bringing him.

Stolas was getting close, trying to speak only came out as drunken moans.

You were both close and you both knew it.

Squeezing him close you began intensifying your thrusts, hands grabbing him rougher.

You were getting so close, you bit your tongue focusing on the pain to last as long as possible.

But no matter how hard you tried to hold back, you reached your peak, exploding in the owls sopping cavern. Feeling this sent Stolas over the edge.

Stolas released a high pitch squeal.

Not wanting uninvited listeners to hear your bedmate, you reach forward and pull the prince into a deep kiss, muffling the squeal.

The two of your remain in that state for several moments. Breaking the kiss, you fall limp against the princes chest.

Stolas rested his arms around your back, pulling you close as you both basked in the afterglow.

While you were very content with the idea of just laying with this very warm, feathery pillow for the next few hours.

The sudden slamming of a door and Blitzø screaming 'Fuck!' snapped you both out of our pleasant haze.

Looking up at Stolas, you found him looking just as panicked as you felt. You both scrambled off each other, desperately trying get your clothes on.

Stolas scrambled in kind, desperately trying to get his clothes on. Though unfortunately for him he'd earlier scattered his clothes across the room.

Finally getting your clothes on properly, you found Stolas still in a state of undress.

He'd gotten his upper layer on but still lacked his pants and cloak.

Looking around, I found the cloak besides the door. Rushing over i grab the fur collared cloak.

Bringing it back to the prince, he quickly put it on, giving me a quick thanks before dashing around, looking for his pants.

Looking around, you found Stolas' pants under the conference table.

Grabbing them you quickly handed them to the avian prince. Stolas snatched them from your hands before beginning the awkward process of pulling them up his long legs

He'd gotten them up about half way when the distinct sound of Blitzø trudging towards the door drew both of our attention.

We both stared at the door, listening as Blitzø stamped his way towards us. Stolas was in the early stages of a panick attack, as stolas leaned back against the conference table, watching the door with frozen dread.

Blitzø's heavy steps stopped before the door, the silence hung in the air like a scythe drawn back and ready to cut us both down.

You both began to panick before a booming sneeze rang out, Blitzø mumbled profanity before continuing past the door.

Stopping by the office's entrance he called back '(Y/N) lock the place up will ya, I need a fuckin drink.'

Without waiting for a response Blitzø slammed the front door and like that, we were alone.

You looked up at the prince, he looked back at you. You stared at each other for a few moments before you cracked a smile.

You began a hearty chuckle, laughing at how tense you'd both gotten only to be completely alone again.

Stolas pulls his pants up, before joining you in your little laugh. Walking over you sat up next to the prince. The two of you falling into a pleasant silence.

Stolas slipped his hand into yours, before bringing your hand onto his lap.

Stolas was in a strange state of mind, he had been emotionally shattered, and now he felt... happy.

For the first time in years he wasnt filled with anxiety.

Sitting there he slid his arm around you waist, before pulling you into his lap.

You nestled into his lap, enjoying his embrace as he ran his hand over your body.

I leaned into the touch, enjoying his scent as as you sat in his lap.

Stolas looked down at you, he just didnt understand you.

His entire life people had always wanted something from him, Octavia was the only person who ever just wanted him to who he was... and he still managed to screw thet up.

Even his beloved Blitzø only wanted him for his grimoire, no one wanted him for him.

Except you.

And stolas didn't understand it.

So he decided ask you.

'What do you want?' Stolas asked you, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked up at him, unsure of what he said, 'what?' You asked.

'What do you want from me?' He asked, anger swelling in his chest. He needed to know, you were the only good thing he had right now and he needed to know why you were being so Damned Good to him!

You looked up at him, frustration and anger clear on his face.

A sad little smile adorned your face before you raised both your arms and cup his cheeks.

Stolas froze, getting to your feet you looked him dead in the eyes you told him. 'I just want you to be happy.'

Stolas was taken aback, confusion laid clear across his feature.

You chuckled at his clearly dumbfounded expression.

With a sigh you told him 'I can truthfully say when I first heard of you my opinion of you wasn't very high. And when I heard of your deal with Blitzø... well it didn't help.

'But' I cut in before he could say anything. 'I quickly came to learn you were unlike any of your fellow royalty.'

You took his hand into your own, gently playing with his fingers.

'Like most Imps growing up i dreamed of growing up to own a palace.' You chuckled to yourself. 'But when I grew up I realised. When you have such power, you bound to it as much as its bound to you'

'And when I learned of your arrangement with Blitzø, I though it was just a way to indulge in your more, carnal desires.' you sighed, reliving the last 20 minutes or so. 'But it wasnt until i overheard you talking to Blitzø on the phone. I could hear just how genuinely eager you were to see him, and I could tell how much you wished he'd return such enthusiasm.

Running a hand down his chest you told him. 'You coming here to see Blitzø, it was so obvious i was actually annoyed with myself for seeing it earlier. You were genuinely eager to see him. But it wasn't until you, prince stolas of the Ars Goetia, ask if your out fit was good enough did realise what was going on.'

You took a moment to have a giggle at the memory, Stolas didn't find it as funny but listened regardless.

'Watching you fuss over an outfit that you knew was perfect, it was in that moment your anxiety shown through. I saw your mask crack and I could see just how fragile you were.'

Stolas got a little huffy 'I'm not fragile' he grumbled to himself.

You giggled at his immature behaviour.

Turning his head towards you, you met his crimson gaze. 'Stolas. In that moment. I saw you.' You placed your hand against his chest.

'I saw a gentle soul. A damaged, scared, And absolutely terrified to be alone.' You brought his hand up to your cheek. 'And when I heard Blitzø screaming at you, without even giving you a chance. I knew it would devastate you.'

'And you there, in front of Blitzø's office, clawing at the ground, desperately trying to keep it together, I made a decision.' Stolas' gaze was so intense if not for your current situation youd likely fear for your life. 'I made the decision to make. you. smile. No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. I wouldn't let you leave without a smile on your face.'

Stolas stared for several moments, eyes scanning your face for even the slightest hint of deceat. His throat dried and eyes watered when he realised there wasn't any to find.

'You really did all that for me, just... to see me smile?' Stolas asked, his voice staring to break up through his drying throat.

You looked him dead in the eyes and without a moment's hesitation you whispered back 'yes.'

Stolas pulled you close, tears welling in his eyes.

Stolas held you tight, fearing that if he let you go, something would snatch you away from him.

You leaned into the embrace, returning the hug and just enjoying his arms wrapped around you.

It wasn't until you felt his body quivering that you pulled from the embrace. Finding the owl on the brink of tears you reached up and wiped a tear from his eyes.

Stolas felt... light. As though all the things that were holding him down were gone.

He felt freer then he had in centuries, like nothing could keep him down.

And looking down, he found the source of this freedom.

And seeing you looking up at him, he couldn't help the smile spread across his features.

You were what he'd always wanted.

Someone who loved him unconditionally.

Seeing the Prince smiling made you release a giggle 'You look good with a smile' you whispered to him.

Stolas' hand cupped your cheek and brought you close. Placing a single kiss on your lips before placing head against your own.

Pulling back he said 'I think I'm in love with you.'

Stolas froze, fearing for your reply, fearing you wouldn't reply, fear you'd leave him and he'd fall into the pit of despair that you'd pulled him out of.

You took a moment to respond, a moment which for stolas felt like an eternity.

Getting up you cupped both his cheeks and told him 'I care deeply for you as well, Stolas.'

The reply sent a slight wave of sadness through him before he calmed himself. 'Its alright' he thought 'he doesn't need to love me yet. I'll show him how much I deserve his love.'

Stolas planted another kiss before asking you 'can I see you again, spend some time with you.'

'Do you have a phone?' You asked, Stolas patted himself down hefore pulling out his Hellphone you quickly snatched out of his hands.

Opening the phone you chuckled to yourself, 'Don't even have a password.'

You typed away for a few moment, Stolas leaned down trying to take a look at what you were doing.

Pulling back you pressed the phone against your chest before you wagged your finger at him 'na-ah'.

It took another minute before you held the phone up, pulled a little pose and he heard the distinct click of you taking a picture.

After another few second you handed the phone back before getting up of his lap.

Though instantly missed your presence you attention was still on the phone. Opening it he found a new contact.

(Y/N), the icon being the image you just took.

The fact you so willingly not only gave him your number, but you willingly took a picture of yourself sent warmth through his chest.

His attention brought back to the real world when he heard the door open.

Looking up, he found you standing by the door before walking back over to him.

Holding a hand out, you pulled him to his feet before saying 'Stolas. This has been perhaps the single greatest moment in my life, and I can't describe how happy I am that I got to share it with you.'

Walking to the door, you turned to him. 'But, and I can't describe how much it pains me to say, but I have to bring this rendezvous to an end.' You told him, concern clear in your voice.

Stols took in a breath, 'I understand. This was all rather sudden.' He told you, running his hand over yours.

'Thank you for understanding.' You said earnestly.

Stolas leaned down and you shared a brief but passionate kiss.

'I look forward to seeing you again, My leage' you steered him towards the door, say the last part in your best snooty accent.

Stolas giggled at your antics before ducking under the door.

You exchanged one final touch before he left to home.

#helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #helluva boss #headcanon #x reader #stolas #stolas x reader

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nakachuchu · 3 years

Text

Two-stick Popsicle | Choso

SYNOPSIS: Modern Band AU - You're on tour with them.

READER: gender neutral

WORDS: 1002

WRITTEN: 04/01/2021

NOTES: Not the best but I liked the idea. I'm so bad at writing Choso. Thank you for the idea/request @imshiftingtobnha

You weren't even a member of Choso's band, the Blood Brothers. You were just a simple childhood friend who wanted a taste of what they had without having to participate in the band since you couldn't sing or play an instrument.

At first, his band wasn't famous like Taylor Swift or Harry Styles, but they did get gigs at small pubs and concerts. It required moving to a more populated area since their small town didn’t have many tourists.

Eventually, due to the videos you would film and post on YouTube, they got more views and recognition. Companies started contacting them and they eventually got an agent.

They started getting booked more and more, and what started as a fun small-time activity turned into a tour.

They were on the road in a large tour bus with their own personal driver. You remembered when Eso used to be the driver of their small van.

It was so crowded that you would be pressed up against Choso in the back since Kechizu sat in the front.

But even now, you were still with them. Either of the brothers could have told you to go back to the small town you all grew up in, but they liked your company.

Even with their larger budget and team, you continued to film the behind-the-scenes for fun.

The tour bus had two bunk beds with curtains. You slept on the bottom bunk, while Choso was on top of you. Across from the two of you were Eso and Kechizu.

You sneezed while scrolling through Instagram on your phone. Choso's hand appeared from the side, holding a tissue.

"Bless you."

"Thank you," you said as you took the tissue from him.

You heard him hum as his hand retracted, returning to his top of the bed. You wiped your nose and continued scrolling.

Above, Choso was texting his brothers in their group chat. He was furiously texting and his brothers, who were across from him in their beds, were stifling their laughs.

'Did you hear that? The sneeze was so cute.'

Choso had a crush on you and he had ever since you were children. He remembered the day he met you when he was only 10-years-old.

Your grandfather ran a small shop full of trinkets and sweets for tourists. He usually stayed behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper while you sat outside on the bench with some sort of sweet.

Choso and his family had just moved to your small town and he was feeling bored, so he decided to go out into town.

His brothers didn't feel like walking, so he went alone. It was quiet and he could hear the cicadas. It was a hot day and he could feel the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

When he got home, he would ask his grandmother to cut his hair. With this weather, he'd prefer being bald.

When he heard the sound of bells ringing, he headed toward the sound. It was coming from the wind chimes hanging from your grandfather's shop.

You were sitting on the bench, swinging your legs back and forth while licking a two-stick popsicle.

"I've never seen you before," you called out.

"I just moved here."

"Want a popsicle?"

"I didn't bring money," he said.

"That's okay. You can have my half."

You held out your popsicle to him and he approached you, hand reaching out for the second stick.

He tugged on it, splitting the popsicle in half perfectly. You smiled briefly before biting into your half.

"Aren't you hot with your long hair?" you asked.

Your cute pigtails swung as you talked to him. He sat next to you on the bench.

"Yeah."

"Here. I'll help you out," you said.

You shoved the popsicle into your mouth and took out one of your hair-ties from your pigtails, then wrapped his hair into a spiky bun.

"I'm not good at doing hair," you said once you took the popsicle out of your mouth. "My pops does it for me. Now, we're matching."

Since that day, the two of you were inseparable.

"Cho, do you want me to brush your hair before I go to sleep?" you asked.

He hopped out of the bunk and held his hand out, helping you out of bed. The two of you walked to the mini living room. He sat in front of you and you took out the buns before brushing through his hair.

He sat in front of you quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair and gently tugging through the knots.

The phone in his hand was blowing up in texts from his brothers. All of the texts were either pictures of you two they were secretly taking from their beds or texts telling him to confess to you.

"Y/N, have you ever thought about dating?" Choso questioned.

You tilted your head to the side and hummed in thought. You were silent for a moment while combing through his hair.

"I guess so. I've only ever imagined it with the person I like though," you answered.

His heart stopped for a moment as he tried to recollect his thoughts. His hand gripped his phone tightly as he forced himself to answer you.

"Do I know the person?"

You were silent again, but he didn't turn around to look at you. It had been more than a decade since meeting Choso, and every day with him was full of smiles.

"Yeah, it's you," you whispered.

Not believing his ears, he sat there, frozen. You stopped brushing his hair and waited for him to say something.

Finally, he twisted his body around to look at you. His eyes were wide in surprise.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"I like you too," he said.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him on the nose. "Let's go to bed."

"Can I sleep you with tonight?"

"You won't fit, silly," you said with a chuckle.

"I'll make it fit."

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso x reader #headcanon #imagine #jujutsu kaisen #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #Kamo Choso x reader

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stilemawillow · 3 years

Note

Thank you for replying :') I'm not sure if you have rules for requests? But if this is okay with you, can I request some Levi x reader when one of them does something embarrassing but cute? Crack! Thank you wuuuuvs 🥺

yes, i do take requests but i do them slowly so sorry for that, i typed down a short drabble (1.6k words, kind of got out of hand lol), hope you still like it. also i was brainstorming the embarrassing but cute thing for like ten minutes, i completely blanked lol

............................................................................

It was late, the Survey Corps had had a celebratory gathering in honour of their last remotely successful mission - if nothing else in regards to the few casualties. The cadets were awarded some time off and a bigger meal than usual and the superiors had waited for them to depart so they could spoil themselves with a bit of their alcohol reserve.

The Commander hadn’t set a curfew for them but many left after a glass or two, too tired to stay and knowing they’d still have work the next day. The others - meaning (Y/N), Hanji and Nanaba - were having fun, being loud and, as all three would say - living life to their best. The only left was Levi Ackerman, who stayed in the beginning and spend just a little time with the females before deciding to spare his eardrums some of the raucous torture.

He’d gone on a walk around the HQ to let the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in the crevice of his ribcage fade. He’d always had a high tolerance, thus why drinking was a complete waste of time to him - he’d drain the whole reserve in order to feel anything out of the ordinary or, as Hanji and (Y/N) often described - a disconnection between his brain and body so strong he acted on nothing but his instincts.

The clock was pointing at one past midnight and he was sure there was anybody awake but him. He decided, since he doubted sleep would come to him tonight, to pass by the mess hall to make himself a cup of tea and clean up after the loud drunkards in the meantime.

Except the mess hall still had one inhabitant, in the face of Squad Leader (Y/N) (L/N), or, to Levi, the human embodiment of weird. She’d been his comrade for about five years now and were considered close; she’d made it a point to breach his walls like a firing cannon and he’d struggled to fight her off for a while but he didn’t hate her completely - never had and never thought he would - and so he let her in eventually. Their relationship was simple and platonic, maintain the opposite as Hanji might.

Levi and (Y/N) regarded it as exchanging favours, with silence on his side and loud persistence on hers to make up for it. There was understanding too. He’d often fancied the idea of murdering Hanji in cold blood for pointing out a bit too much his habitual proclivity to let (Y/N) touch him and sometimes, touch her back. She was somebody who didn’t mind rumours and didn’t find use in wasting her energy debunking them, so there had been an established routine between them - she could touch him when nobody was looking. The routine was set in stone around the time she found out he didn’t scream at her too much when she did it in front of others too.

Tonight, (Y/N)’s drinking had gotten a bit out of hand, because she was leaning against one of the tables, cursing at an empty bottle and swaying just a bit. Levi approached her and had just cleared his throat when her shoulders jumped and she almost tripped when turning to look at him.

“Can you even get to your room in this condition?” His question was reasonable but what he didn’t know was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to process it. Or him.

“’m in perrrrfect condition. I can go to the moon too.” Her eyes were narrowed and the gaze in them - foggy. Levi gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, then, pointedly as he could, reached out a hand to grab and stabilise her. “Ew, don’t touch me!” She slapped his fingers before they could even grab her, then he was left to blink at her disgusted expression.

“Come, we have to get you to bed.” He was talking boredly, like a grown person explaining 1+1 to a child. Her brows furrowed and she moved away from him but the look in her eyes didn’t clear up.

“Bed? You want me in bed? Well, I say no because I don’t want bed and you. I want somebody else. So fuck off and leave me alone.” She’d royally cussed him out and he’d almost gotten tired of her bullshit when she reached for the empty bottle of the table and began sadly scrutinising the few drops inside. After gulping them down, she decided it would be best to sit down and Levi, in turn, concluded he wouldn’t get his peace of mind if he didn’t force her into her room.

“I’m not leaving you alone because you’ll get hurt. Now come along.” He grabbed her arm and forced her off her ass, to which she frantically tried to shake his hold in vain. Once they were face to face, he felt she might just spit at him with how angry she looked and all.

“I tol’ you not to touch me!” She was hitting him across the chest and he was rolling his eyes at her antics - though he had no idea why she was acting like this now. He hadn’t seen her this drunk anyway. Hanji and Nanaba always took care of her when she was. And they always shared weird looks the morning after.

“You’re usually the one touching me.” His comment made her expression contort in confusion, like the idea of physical touch existing between them was unfathomable to her brain.

“Who? Me? Excuse you, I don’t---” She hiccuped and he was pulling her along - and he, very briefly thought that cute. “I touch only Levi. Because I like him.” His brows furrowed - this was a sudden confession, but so had been the first one. He was well aware (Y/N) held romantic feelings for him and she was well aware he returned them, except, he hadn’t reacted well to the idea of a relationship and they’d kept it down to being close friends instead.

“I like you too.” It was blurted out and composed, just a bit exasperated. She wasn’t telling him anything new but he was curious as to what had even made her do it tonight. And he thought, ever so optimistically, she might just not remember him saying it back the next morning - as he’d never worded it this straightforwardly.

“Why are you sayin’ ‘ too’? I’m not confessing to you and I don’t like you, I like Levi Ackerman, as in Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, as in the fucking love of my life.” She was tugging him back, or at least trying to since it wasn’t working and he kept dragging her down the hallway to the stairs. Her words were what made him halt. He was holding her and she’d told him he was the love of her life - now that was new - and she was talking like... he was a stranger.

“So who am I again?” His inquiry made her brows furrow, she snorted and hiccuped once more - he forced himself not to be distracted by that and the annoyingly cute way in which her nose was scrunched up in disgruntlement.

“From where the hell should I know? You’re a shady guy who keeps touching me and trying to get me in bed. Sorry, bud, not workin’. The only guy I’ll be beddin’ isn’t here right now.” She tugged on his arm once more, then he suggested that they went to him instead and she was quite pleased to hear that. “Or I could go m’self.” Her suggestion was followed by a sneeze, then she was rubbing her arm after he’d let go of it with a condescending look on his face. “You might not be aware but Levi’s tol’ me he likes me too and if he sees you tryin’ to abduct me he might just get angry and kick your face off.”

“I’d like to see that happen.” He was almost smirking at the index finger she was pointing in his direction, almost about to jab straight into his chest. She was frowning, ever so mighty whilst declaring that he - the man standing before her - would come along and beat himself up because she was so fucking wasted she couldn’t recognise him. Talk about disconnection between brain and body.

“If you don’t keep your han’s off me, it might. I’ll just call for him. He’ll beat you to a pulp.” Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was pouting now, mad but not that much and he was watching her recklessly trip on her way up the stairs. He gave her twenty minutes and made bets on whether she’d reach his room at all or not and lost when she was seen nowhere along the hallway passed out or whining.

She was snoring on his bed already and he took his time discarding her jacket and boots, then his own prior to entering his office and getting to work with one of the reports he had to write. It took him three hours to finally yawn, he joined (Y/N) on the bed and just barely rolled his eyes when she turned over in her sleep and began mumbling his name.

The morning after he woke up first and decided to enlighten her on the topic of what she’d done last night and why she’d woken up in his bed during breakfast. She went so red in the face it looked painful and Hanji, overhearing their conversation began laughing so hard she choked. Needless to say, (Y/N) gave up alcohol for a while and Levi made it a point to remind her why every time he caught her glancing longingly at the cellar. Not that he minded a confession from her once in a while, or those cute hiccups, or the simultaneous annoyance and amusement he felt at her inability to recognise him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #reader insert #drabbles for anonies #kind of shit and kind of cringe but i guess it's the cliche people love so here you go #i could think of nothing else #also not exactly crack but idk #i'll leave that up to you to decide

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gyucore · 3 years

Text

to reach a happy ending

pairing: beomgyu x reader

tags: fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 1.6k

warnings: beomgyu swears like once

prompts:

017: "A fairytale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face."

023: "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

— requested by ⛅ anon! sorry this took so long to make. i hope you like it!! ♡

"Ew, look at this." You hand the dusty old photo album to Beomgyu who's sprawled across the floor by your side.

"Wait—" He stops you, rolling away before letting out a sneeze so loud that it managed to echo off the dusty untouched walls of his old room. The poor guy couldn't help it, his room hadn't been cleaned since he moved out in the middle of high school, and his mom preferred to keep things as they were— dust and all. You wonder if it was simply an excuse to clean one less room.

Beomgyu did say he had dropped in yesterday without notice. You'd think he'd want to spend some quality time with his parents first, but he'd decided to invite you over after spending a single night under this roof. Having heard nothing but radio silence from your best friend in years, you were thrilled to get to see him again. And what better way to shed off the ever present awkwardness in the beginning than to go through old photo albums?

"Okay, show me." Beomgyu rolls back to your side, scooting in closer to rest his head on your lap.

You turn the photo album, pointing at one photo in particular of you and Beomgyu dressed as a knight and damsel in distress— Beomgyu playing the role of the latter. Contrary to the roles, you were pummeling Beomgyu to the ground as if having caught a thief, and Beomgyu was shoving his handkerchief to your face, blocking your eyesight. The context behind the photograph alludes you, but this might just be a case of seven-year-olds doing whatever they want whenever.

"The fuck you mean ew? I look great in that dress!" Frowning, Beomgyu grabs the album to stare longer at his past self's glory.

"Lying to yourself isn't good for you, Gyu." You jokingly disapprove. It was fun seeing his reactions right after.

"Oh, look at these."

Beomgyu points at a photo of you and him on stage, wearing the same costumes as before. You figured it was for a play back in first grade when you two had been classmates. The next series of photos included one of you holding out a sword towards a kid in a cheap dragon costume, one of Beomgyu holding back his tears after tripping over and ripping his dress, and ones of you rushing to Beomgyu and kissing away his tears.

"This takes me back." Beomgyu lights up with a smile, failing to notice the surprise on your face. "Remember when your mom made us believe that kissing any injuries we had would make it go away? I knew you wanted to help me back then but I couldn't stop crying and tell you were it hurt, so you started kissing all over my face hoping it'd go away."

You find yourself laughing at your past self's foolishness. "But did it work?" You ask in between laughs.

"Well," Beomgyu chuckles, getting up from his position on your lap. "I don't think it would've worked if another person had done it. But since it was you— Wait." He takes one last look at the album, letting slip a wheeze before placing it back in its box. "Mom wrote something right below the photo."

"What did she write?" You ask, holding out your hands for Beomgyu to grab.

"A fairy tale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face." Beomgyu tells you as he helps you up, trying his best to keep a straight face after delivering that line.

The two of you burst into laughter at his mother's words. You knew she'd been fond of fairy tales all her life but the caption was taking you out. Beomgyu was literally crying in the photo yet somehow this, to her, was a happy ending.

You eventually take notice of all the photos plastered around his room, some framed, and some simply stuck to the walls— memories of happier times. Most were of you and him, and in some, just you. He'd shown off the Polaroid camera his mother bought for him in seventh grade, proclaiming he'd only take photos of moments he'd want to keep in his memory forever. It never actually crossed your mind that a lot of them would be of you.

Beomgyu notices your wandering eyes and chuckles, placing an arm around your shoulder. The distance between you shrinks as he holds you closer. And at that moment, you take note of everything that's changed.

He'd gotten taller since the last time you saw him. Gone was the lanky boy you knew, evident in the way his muscles flexed with every small movement you wish you hadn't noticed. Beomgyu had grown his hair out; the thick, wavy locks tucked behind his ears, covering the back of his neck. The deepness of his voice had been a surprise when he greeted you at the door earlier, but you held back from pointing it out.

You feared that if you acknowledged all the changes, you'd be forced to face reality. That things weren't the same anymore, no matter how hard you tried. After all, Beomgyu wasn't the only one who changed. You had quite the few character development arcs yourself, and experiences which Beomgyu remained oblivious of. And somehow despite that, in his presence, you started to feel like your old self again.

Beomgyu's invitation had come as a surprise last night. You thought he'd forgotten about you, what with all the silence these past few years.

Life continued on as it should even without Beomgyu by your side, but you could argue that all the amazing experiences you've had on your own would've been better if he were there to experience it with you. And now here you were in his old room, pretending everything was the same as he'd left it.

You look up at your old friend, wanting to tell him what had been plaguing your thoughts the entire day but find yourself tongue tied when his dark eyes stare back into your own. And you wonder, how many times had it been that you'd stared into each other's eyes just like this? How many times had he pulled you close into his arms all those years? And just how many nights had you spent wondering if your feelings for him had grown into something more?

"I missed you." Beomgyu speaks first, his gaze never faltering.

Hearing his voice, you swear you could've melted right then and there. Part of you had wished he'd tell you those exact words, confirming that it hadn't been just you who'd been wanting to see him all these years.

"I missed you too."

Beomgyu could only smile at your response.

His arm leaves your shoulder— hands slowly finding their way to your own. His hold was gentle as he slowly guided you to face him.

"Don't laugh, but," Beomgyu starts. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"Love at fir—"

The question throws you off.

"What?"

"I heard you the first time!" You cut him off, wanting so bad to cover your face from the secondhand embarrassment. "I can't believe you just said that. What even happened to you in college?"

"Hey! At least hear me out before you make fun of me." Beomgyu bursts out laughing at your reaction, his thumbs caressing the back of your hands to help you calm down. "Judging from your reaction, I'm guessing your answer is a no. And I honestly felt the same too until a few hours back."

"Okay, you lost me there."

"Shut up. What I'm saying is," Beomgyu squeezes your hands, leaning in closer. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch the last few years. I had a lot of trouble adjusting, and it took a while for me to really get the hang of living alone. I wanted to talk to you as soon as I got there but then I thought that maybe it would've been better for you if I left you to live your own life for a while too."

"Beomgyu.." You squeeze his hands back, sensing the sincerity in his eyes.

Beomgyu shakes his head. "I know this sounds silly and all, but I didn't want you to feel the emptiness I felt when I left. I wanted you to go and make experiences of your own without me."

You frown, refraining to speak until he's done.

"But then I couldn't stop thinking about you. Everywhere I went, I'd think of you and how the place would've been better if we got to hang out there together. Every time I had fun or ate something that tasted good, I wanted you to share the experience with me."

Beomgyu sighs. "Honestly, I thought I could make it through my visit home without seeing you but I passed by your house on my way home yesterday and I just.. I couldn't hold back. And when I saw you for the first time in years at the front of my doorstep.. I knew I had to tell you."

Half of you knew what to expect, and the other half doubted the reality of the situation. But all the doubts instantly melt away as soon as Beomgyu closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together.

Face flushed, you stare at him in awe and notice he had his eyes closed shut. "Cute." You thought.

He whispers in a voice so quiet you could barely hear.

"I like you."

You couldn't hold it in any longer, the rush of emotions crashing into you like raging waves against a cliff. The next moment, you find yourself inching closer and closer, face heating up even more as you press your lips against his as a reply.

Beomgyu's eyes widen, body freezing in place. He hadn't exactly expected you to respond so soon, especially not like this. And he couldn't be happier.

You feel Beomgyu returning the kiss, his hands going up to cup your face— his hold gentle. The two of you wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment for as long as life permits, because for once, you could finally see the path to your happily ever after slowly unraveling.

This was just the beginning.

#txt #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt fic #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu fluff

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