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#fluff served in a gold platter
manjiroscum · 1 year
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PRIMROSES
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Character/s: Pantalone
Warnings: f!reader, a bit of explicit sex, mature language, arranged marriage, hurt&comfort, light angst, fluff, modern au, this is a bit cheesy ngl, reader's father is a dick, pantalone has violet eyes, reader being anxious, pantalone is a banker, pantalone being a simp, mentions of unprotected sex, mention of the use of condoms, hints of pregnancy, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.
Note: been long since i wrote so i apologize if it isn't the best 🥹 this piece is dedicated to my lovely bby suki 💖
Synopsis: Your dearest husband got the scare of his life.
WC: 2.4k
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Distance makes the heart grow fond but prolonged absence makes the heart forget.
The day Pantalone agreed to marry you despite it being an arranged endeavor was supposed to make a blushing bride feel over the moon. To recall that fateful meeting was akin to viewing a love story just about to unfold on a large screen, blissfully unaware of what was coming next no matter how obvious the foreshadowing is shown. All that occupied your mind that moment was the faint scent of primroses that wafted around the vicinity that was graced by his presence. The scent became stronger with each passing second, especially when you happened to flick off a piece of lint that dared to tarnish his impeccable suit. The mere act alone had Pantalone smiling down at you, causing your poor unsuspecting heart to do a flip.
“Thank you, my dear. I never saw that.”
He was cordial during the first meeting, smiling and casually complimenting you or nodding to your father’s flowery description of his beautiful daughter. The way his eyes followed your every move was enough to have you grow conscious of whatever you do but also made you aware of his interest in his soon-to-be wife. He was every man’s dream—rich, powerful, and unbothered by those who dared to challenge him. After all, who could compete with such a force that is Snezhnaya City’s most wealthy and influential banker? Mere humans can not compete with a demigod of the financial world, let alone those who wish to become like him when there is only one Pantalone in the whole universe who has beaten all odds thrown at him by life to reach the pedestal where he is now.
Nothing would make you happier than to have him fall head over heels for you just like you did with the way he carried himself during the entire evening.
“Is the caviar delicious?”
Pantalone’s lips curled up at your eager nod, unable to take his eyes off of you just like you couldn’t gaze away from the man. He was so patient in explaining things you would ask him, gentle in holding your hand to kiss it as a momentary goodbye. The promise of more encounters shone through his amethyst irises behind those glasses, capturing every fiber of your being to believe in him for he shall never disappoint.
“I hope to see you again, preferably sometime this week.”
A man such as he deserved nothing but the best of the best. To marry Pantalone would be second to reaching those pearly gates—everything to be handed to you on a gold platter and happiness will be served once one gold band is around your pretty ring finger. To be Pantalone’s wife… Such bliss indeed.
And yet, it was damn lonely. After all those months of preparations and making sure the wedding, including the wedding night, was perfect—Pantalone never had free time to spend with you again the second the honeymoon was all over. You have never foreseen the loneliness after all those insatiable fucking, overflowing words of endearment, and sipping champagne with him. Your friend was the occasional helper in the penthouse once the knots were tied. Missing Pantalone dearly wasn’t part of the agreement.
What happened to his vows in keeping you happy?
Your father was the first person you consulted with this sudden change in Pantalone’s demeanor. Yet, he hardly provided any advice or assistance or anything at all to explain the distance between you and your husband. For someone who arranged the marriage, you would’ve thought he’d lend you a hand and be sure the relationship wouldn’t go sour.
“Daughter, I think you shouldn’t be too… clingy, you know? Your husband needs some space from time to time. A man can’t run a business when his wife is hogging all of his time. Just don’t get all emotional. You tend to overreact…”
Frustrated, you slammed the door after walking out of your dad’s office. Hot angry tears threatened to drip down your warm cheeks at his statement. No wonder your mother left his sorry ass too soon.
You? Clingy? Overreacting?
Pantalone couldn’t even keep his hands off of you during the honeymoon period, even going far as to glare at the waiter who was making passes at you at that French restaurant. He tore the dress you wore that night with his bare hands while stamping hot kisses onto every skin his lips could touch. His fingers burying deep in your wet pussy he made possible so easily. The intoxicating smell of primrose and your shampoo mingled in your shared bedroom, with a mixture of sweat and fluids. His mouth claimed yours again and again just like his cock stretching your hole with each powerful thrust. Your husband burned through his stash of condoms meant for a month that night. You failed to recall how many times he came inside you, whispering his devotion directly into your ears while pounding you sore.
Pantalone valued your time like he valued his money. Those lips spoke of unattainable treasures he can buy, pledging he shall get them if you do ask. Yet, you never requested any material things. While you were grateful, it was his presence and his time you sought—far more valuable than any gold or jewel.
He found this far too amusing.
“Dearest, it somehow pains me that you don’t want this Birkin that will absolutely go well with that dress. Normally I would insist, but if you merely want to spend an evening alone with me, who am I to say no?”
It was his sturdy form keeping you from stumbling after too many drinks or the way he tucks back stray hairs from your face that made your soul fall harder. The quirk of his brow or the curve on his lips as he intently listens to you had your heart leaping in euphoria. This may have been an arranged marriage, however, it was better than you imagined. Pantalone may be the best husband there is…
A husband you rarely see anymore due to the drastic change in his behavior.
No matter how you tried to call him every day, you couldn’t help but hang on to his cryptic messages as responses or calls that last for a minute. The meals for two set on the table morphed slowly into one. His chair was often empty beside yours as you ate in silence. Traces of him being in the penthouse was rare, and even if he were to come home, only his warmth beside your side of the bed and the faint scent of primroses were all you could witness.
The ride down the elevator was uneventful as it can be. But your mind was racing faster than the cogs of the machine working to take you to the parking level. Pantalone consumed your thoughts even as you got into the Bentley Pantalone gifted you as a wedding gift. Sitting there and staring into space in the driver’s seat, you sighed.
Where did you go wrong?
You were quite sure everything was going so well between you two. Plus, you made sure not to do anything that will annoy him or anything. Pantalone was straightforward in telling you what ticked him off and what he found pleasant. He laid out his terms just as you did yours before you both agreed to marry one another.
So, what was keeping him so busy that he could barely see his wife, let alone be at home all the time?
Groaning, you leaned back against the seat and covered your face. You didn’t want to shed any tears, not in a parking lot where anyone can see. And frankly, you didn’t want to cry just because Pantalone hasn’t been paying you any attention. Oh god, perhaps you have gone too clingy. Too clingy that he has made his office his home and refuses to see you. For weeks, you have been sick with worry. Mornings, where you refuse to eat and even vomit the food you ate at dinner, were more frequent. To lose sleep over your husband’s absence was not the ideal way to go. But how can you lay in bed when Pantalone was out there doing god knows what?
No longer fighting back the tears, you nodded in defeat. Perhaps your father was right. Maybe you have gone too far as to cling to him in every moment you saw each other. Yeah, that’s probably why… You were quite sure of this, enough to go home and pack your things hastily into a suitcase. Hellbent on leaving him first before he can think of doing it. The rash decision fueled by your sorrows grew more rational with each minute that passed.
Because if he were seeing another woman, you were certain you would die on the spot—right there and then. You couldn’t bare to lose half of your soul when you just found it.
Pantalone, fortunately for him, came home to retrieve papers in his office just in time as you were about to wheel your suitcase out the front door. What appeared to be a normal day went crashing down instantly at the scene in front of the banker. A look of shock flashed in his features that you were sure you have never seen grace his face before. He was quick to compose himself, though, and approached you in confusion. You tried to hide your tear-streaked face, hoping the last image he will see of you is an epitome of immaculate and not someone about to get kicked out.
Yet, fate wouldn’t have it, eh?
“D-dearest, is there something wrong? Why have you packed your—what’s going on?” Despite the urgency and demand in his tone, Pantalone’s voice was shaky. Why on earth was his wife leaving him? Had he done anything wrong? Mind trying to come up with a memory or incident where he might’ve said something to offend you, Pantalone instantly shut the door and blocked it with his body when you moved past him. “Sweetheart, I won’t be able to understand or appease you if you wouldn’t tell me what’s bothering you.”
He watched as you swallowed, trying to avoid eye contact with him. Normally, this type of behavior would irritate him. But this was you. Pantalone would rather set his bank and possessions on fire than scare you away—the charming woman who genuinely enjoyed his company and listened to him rather than worm your way into his life for his money.
“I…I can’t do this anymore,” you responded with a hiccup from all the sobbing you did earlier. Pantalone’s mind haywire at your statement, unsure whether to hold you to keep you from running or to let you go. What could have possibly turned you this way? It wasn’t until your teary eyes met his that the realization of his constant absence sunk into him. “You’ve been… distant lately. I t-tired to reach out multiple times. I know you’re a busy man, but—” you cut yourself off to keep another sob from bubbling out.
Your trembling body was then encased by Pantalone’s, arms wrapping around you. The burst of his familiar scent of those damn flowers that always muddled your mind now cleared your thoughts. Instead of pushing him away, you found yourself crying in his arms, refusing to let go. Your husband sighed heavily, whispering his apologies and rubbing your back to soothe you.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I am… aware that I’ve been away. I know my lack of reaching out shouldn’t be excused, but do know that whatever you think I am doing is false.” Cupping your face, Pantalone leaned down to kiss your eyelids and tears. He continued to press kisses around your face until you quieted down, still holding onto him. He resumed his explanation with a small smile. “I shouldn’t have left you all alone, especially when the plans I’ve been busy with concern our house. Will you forgive your stupid husband for his mistake, mhm? Please stop crying, dearest. I can’t bare to see you this sad. I know I truly messed up this time… I am willing to make things right.”
Blinking twice, you registered the information regarding his lack of presence. While you were glad he admitted his mistake, this was a reminder that even such an accomplished man like Pantalone was still human at the end of the day. And a house? For the family that you two will soon have? He thought of this relationship far ahead...
Is this man's mission to make you fall even harder?
“You did. You fuckin’ made me worry so much.”
“Language, sweetheart. You know I only want to hear you say filthy words when you’re underneath me,” he joked that your eyes rolling. Pantalone then fished out a handkerchief from his suit pocket, handing it to you. “Now, dry those tears. I’ll take you to see the progress of the construction tomorrow. We’ll have lunch at that restaurant you have been wanting to go to. How does that sound?”
You grabbed the handkerchief he gave you and blew into the expensive material, giggling at the grimace that he tried to mask.
“Okay. But I’ll forgive you, stupid husband, if you promise not to do this again and communicate. And if you will promise to keep the rest of your days free for me. I miss my stupid husband so much that I’ve forgotten how he feels next to me.” You coupled your statement with a soft teasing smile. Pantalone exhaled in relief and then nodded without hesitation, not minding what you called him.
“Of course, dearest. Anything you want.”
Humming in delight, you hugged him again. Those three words you always say slipped past your lips, relief both in your hearts. Pantalone whispered those words back, squeezing you tighter. The crisis has been averted, but simply letting him get away with this is not happening. He knows this.
“And one more thing, can we eat at a different restaurant? I’ve been craving sushi since last night.”
“Craving sushi?” His brow raised at your request, pulling away to stare at you. “But I thought you couldn’t stand raw food right now? You said so last time. Isn’t that the reason why you wanted to eat Italian dishes?”
While it was endearing that Pantalone remembered that phone call back when he was missing in action, you went still at the memory. Sharing a look with him, perhaps there was something more than simply missing him that was causing your mood to switch faster than a broken light switch.
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🎐taglist: @dottores @manjirousagi @festive @tokyometronetwork @saetoru @saeshiraw @saecore
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guideofkeys · 11 months
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Rhysothy Week 2023 Day 1: Dessert/Drinks
Better served cold
(Dark Fantasy AU, Warlock!Rhys/Knight!Timothy. Some cute dark fluff)
The air was full of aromas: spicy, sweet, even slightly tart - from which Tim’s mouth filled with saliva and made him want to swallow his own tongue. Distracting from the rich palette of smells that surrounded him, Timothy returned to reality in order to find himself in a room that looked more like a castle dungeon. The walls of dark, cold stone were decorated with tapestries of noble purple color, in the center of which an eye or a huge sun with a dot in the middle was embroidered in gold. The room was illuminated by several magic crystals that hovered near the ceiling, emitting a cold blue light.
Someone would have found such an environment ominous. But not Timothy - perhaps, for a long time spent in Rhys’ company, he managed to get used to everything: to the strange habits of the latter, and to his tastes (from clothes to spells) and even to the manner of speaking.
“Don't you like it?” Rhys drawled from across the table. Timothy wondered for a moment how best to formulate the thoughts that tormented him. To begin with, the fact that Rhys decided to make a surprise for him and celebrate the anniversary of their acquaintance by cooking an amazing dinner flattered him. A lot. The dinner really turned out to be incredibly delicious - Rhys must have appeased the evil deity he worshipped with some special sacrifice. But then, when Timothy finished with the meat in honey sauce and spiced mashed potatoes, it was time for dessert. The sight of which knocked the ground out from under his feet for a moment.
“This…” Timothy started. During his time working with Hyperion, he learned to be as good at lies as the famous royal diplomats. And yet, this lie sure will leave a terrible aftertaste.
“Dammit. You want truth?
"Yes-s," Rhys smiled. This is how a cat smiles before pouncing on an unsuspecting mouse.
Timothy closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Gathered his strength. ...And lifted the food lying on the plate. Namely, a heart lying on a porous sponge cake in a blood-red jelly. It was shimmering from the inside - Rhys must have enchanted the organ so that it pumped sugar instead of blood, and gradually became covered with pinkish crystals.
“...Some expressions are figurative, Rhys. I want their heart on a silver platter - is one of them.”
“Ah. Writers!” Rhys spread his hands. “Won't you even try it?”
"Whose is it?" Timothy sniffed. The dish smelled faintly of strawberries.
“Hmm. What if I told you that you knew each other?" There was an evil shine in Rhys’ eyes. “I killed your enemy, Timothy.”
“Cute. Which one out of ten. Or, wait, out of hundred?”
“The one that didn't escape.”
“Makes sense,” Timothy shrugged, and, without thinking twice, poked his fork into the disgusting treat.
Like any, at least a little magical stuff, the heart beat several times from this. Tim found it strange that his appetite was still showing signs of life.
“...I hope I won’t die.”
“Pff, on the contrary.You will gain some of the power of... I don't remember who.”
“Interesting. And way more convenient than killing monsters," he closed his eyes, trying not to think about what exactly he was eating. Strangely, despite its origin, the dessert tasted very good. Sweet, porous, tender.
“Oh. I'll keep that in mind," Rhys winked. “As you said, you have a lot of enemies. And I don't mind turning them into something beautiful.”
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seawitch62 · 2 years
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Catnip Man and the Surprise
Part Ten of the Catnip Man Series
Jeonghan x OC (Rose)
Fluff
WC: .8k
Catnip Man Masterlist
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Beautiful day Beautiful life
The world was colored
I closed my eyes and opened them again
But I could only see you-
Unknown caller, ignore.
SF9 the ringtone on Rose's phone.
Most likely a scammer.
SF9 ringtone once again goes off.
Same number! Scammers are relentless.
Ignore. 
SF9 once again comes through the phone. 
Same number, third time.
"Hello" tentatively Rose answers curiosity getting the better  of her.
"Hello Rose, I'm pleased to let you know you are the winner of the online competition" the voice explains.
"Online competition? I didn't enter any competition!" She retorts.
"Then this is your lucky day!"
"Your surprise, I mean.."slight pause, "prize will be arriving today"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Call ended.
"What the fuck" she mumbles, "scammers".
Vernon looks at Jeonghan,
"You owe me!"
"Yeah, sure" he answers derisively as he walks out the door.
Later that afternoon, close to 5pm, the doorbell buzzes.
Looking through the peephole, Rose is surprised to see gift boxes stacked at the threshold, the delivery man pressing the doorbell.
Upon opening the door, she informs the delivery guy that he has the wrong address.
"Rose?" 
Rechecking the address, "this is the correct address".
With that he wheels in the gift boxes using the dolly.
"Sign here!"
"This is a mistake" signing the delivery paperwork.
"Good day" as he makes his exit.
White boxes with dots and gold ribbon stand in the center of the room.
Inquisitiveness gets the better of her and she pulls on the gold ribbon.
Balloons float before her, rising to the ceiling.
"Shit" she blurts out.
Then the boxes rumble, Rose takes a step back.
Gift boxes and gold ribbon spew across the room.
As her 'prize' frees himself from the restraint of the cardboard.
"Hello Kitty, I'm your prize, you won!"
Rose stares in disbelief.
Jeonghan, also known as Catnip man, stands before her.
"Won? What  are you talking about?"
"Date with Catnip man" he states.
"I didn't.." she starts.
With charm any politician would envy,
"First off dinner, then dancing followed by a late night coffee and stroll by the river"
Looking at the helium balloons floating on her ceiling and cardboard boxes and ribbon strewn across the room,
"Kitty the car is waiting! Change if you must, you have five minutes, I will wait".
In a daze Rose does exactly that.
Talk by Khalid, drifts through the speakers while the vehicle zooms in and out of traffic.
~Can't we just talk?
Can't we just talk?
Talk about where we're goin'
Before we get lost~
Jeonghan sings along as Rose is lost in thought. 
"What the fuck am I doing?"
"Pasta! Hope you like Pasta" he whispers in her ear.
Startled back to reality, 
"Pasta" she mumbles.
The vehicle comes to a stop, the door is opened, "enjoy your meal" S Coups says with a smile as he helps Rose out of the vehicle.
"Thanks".
The  restaurant is empty , Rose is led to a table, Jeonghan pulls the chair out, waves his hand, motioning for Rose to sit, when she does he seats himself.
The atmosphere is elegant yet homely, the table set for two, with roses as the centerpiece and red candles flickering.
Romantic.
"Hello my name is Joshua, I am your waiter tonight" smiling graciously.
Joshua fills the glasses with iced water.
"Wine?"
"Pinot Grigio" replies Catnip Man.
"Excellent choice, are you ready to order?"
Jeonghan pretends to ponder, "yes we will both be having creamy Tuscan chicken spaghetti".
Joshua departs to return shortly and pours the wine.
"Kitty, how is the wine?"
Before she can reply, music trickles through, Seokmin croons out a ballad.
Joshua returns with their meal "anything else?"
Jeonghan replies not now.
The spaghetti is served on a large platter, with two side bowls.
Jeonghan digs in, Rose on the other hand eats her share delicately.
Rose twirls her fork into the spaghetti, Jeonghan follows suit.
As is the scene in Lady and Tramp, she realizes they are eating the exact strand of spaghetti.
Jeonghan slurps the pasta into his mouth, devouring as he eyes Rose, within seconds their lips are connected, Catnip man swoops in and plants a kiss with tongue on the stunned Rose.
Casually sitting back down, sipping his wine, he views his dinner companion.
"Enjoying  your dinner?"
Once the food is consumed, plates removed, Jeonghan casually stands up, with an outstretched hand, "lets  dance".
Soft music fills the air, as Catnip man, skillfully guides Rose to the dancefloor, holding her in a tight embrace moves with ease to the music. 
"I'm still hungry" he whispers as he nibbles on her ear.
Rose squirms to break free, "keep that up Kitty Mine, and something else will be up" he whispers with a lewd grin.
"Let's forget the coffee and walk"
Still nibbling on her ear making his way to her neck.
"Rose petaled bath"
"Lather the loofah and explore each other"
"If we are lucky we will make it to the bed, Kitty mine!"
°
Does Rose go home clean up the balloons and gift boxes alone 
Or
Rose petaled bath with Catnip man??
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rorapostsbl · 2 years
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🍄 whispers of the heart, untold. (part 3, finale.)
- rambheem -
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( i love them sm cannot believe this is coming to an end 😭 hopefully i do the ram's pov justice here bcz i was in bheem's pov & it's easier for me to visualise idk??? )
━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━
the past hour or so had been a blur for ram. all he really processed was bheem, his sturdy hands carefully holding him above as they fought their way through troops.
they escaped towards the jungle, to buy some time for them before it all inevitably went down. ram's lidded eyes were focused on only one thing — bheem.
he was beautiful, even when he was all sweaty and panicked. ram's lips curled upwards as he remembered all the times they'd spent together, drifting off to another world momentarily as the jungle's calmness enveloped him.
he eyed bheem, saw his concerned eyes, lines prominent under them, brows knit up, lips bitten as he wrapped ram up in the cloth, skin tingling as they came in contact with eachother.
ram found himself yearning for those set of dark eyes to meet his own — they did a moment after. bheem looked up, unable to stop himself — even as he tried to remind himself of ram and sita's relationship — only to find ram's gaze hyperfocused on him.
bheem flushed, quickly looking down as he murmured "we'll get out of here soon, anna" and he scurried off to wash his burning face with cold water.
ram's lips curled into a lazy smile, satisfaction purring inside of him as he saw bheem go off towards the stream nearby, hands fidgeting — a habit he picked up on whenever he was flustered or nervous.
ram clenched his teeth when he sensed the british troops close in around them slowly. it was now or never.
he got up, muscles jumping in protest, which he vehemently ignored — grabbing the bow and arrow and setting off towards the unguarded bheem.
━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━
they both lay on the ground, away from the city, hidden by the canopy of trees that lay thick and steady, as if to protect them from any outside harm.
it took awhile to regain the energy they had lost — before they got up and went to the nearby stream, dipped themselves in and staying in the freezing water as their muscles felt relief. ram propped himself up against the rock he found.
silence surrounded them, but bheem was thinking so loud, ram could hear it from how far away he was. he wished for bheem to go back to how he was before all this — carefree of his actions.
it almost felt as if the younger had to think of every little thing around ram before he even moved a finger.
ram knew, there was no way he couldn't know. it was clear as day, as clear as his own feelings — bheem too returned them. but. there was always a 'but' that stopped them both.
ram lost track of time, dozing off again under the peaks of sunrays and the sweet cuckoos of birds around. bheem seemed to notice, but he didn't say a word.
once bheem was sure his anna was asleep, he waddled near ram, taking a second to assess the elder.
he'd grown his beard, his hair a sloppy mess around his face, sticking to the skin due to it being wet.
bheem bit his lip, hand coming up and almost in a butterfly - like touch, he tucked the strands away, abit happy seeing his anna's face clearly.
he watched ram sleep, eyes shut and mouth falling open slightly, puffs of air coming out. he must be tired, bheem could tell.
his anna needed a good washing up, grease stuck to his hair, cuts littering his body and face — they could get infected, bheem worriedly thought.
just in time, bheem felt footsteps approach them, again. this time though, their was excited chatter accompanying it, and bheem relaxed as he felt his family come. he glanced one last time at ram, and then swimmed away, immediately getting out of the stream before his family arrived with malli.
━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━
it was, inevitably time to talk about what all had happened between ram and bheem.
bheem had clearly misunderstood alot between sita and ram, leaving ram flabbergasted when he cleared his throat and told that sita should sleep with ram.
"why?" demanded ram, eyes furrowed as a frown took over his lips.
bheem nervously looked at sita, seeing her shake her head at what he'd said abruptly, bheem started to backtrack. maybe he— he misunderstood?
"why, bheema?" ram pressed on.
"because, uh, you, you both are lover- lovers?" bheem reasoned, though it sounded more like a question.
ram sighed as sita patted his back and looked one last time at bheem, in that strange way which told bheem that she knew. and went back to the clearing where temporary tents were set up and every one was now sleeping.
she knew way beyond she spoke of. it scared bheem. had he offended her? bheem didn't know.
"anna- did i offend-?" the question died in his throat halfway as ram stood up, making his way beside bheem and settling down on the piece of wood they'd taken as their seater.
ram stared at bheem with a glint in his eyes, studying the delicate features of his and enjoying how the younger's nervous eyes flickered everywhere but at him.
"bheema," ram began slowly, his voice dripping with honey as he lulled the younger into him. it always worked, as bheem's eyes snapped onto his.
"me and sita aren't lovers. i love someone else." ram slowly whispered the words out for the world to hear.
bheem seemed tormented, before looking up again with a question in his demeanor.
"you want to know who this person is?" ram voiced out the question for him, a smile threatening to break out.
butterflies took over his stomach as he tried to work his way through the knot in his throat.
with much courage, he leaned sideways, shivering when he locked eyes with bheem to see him tracing each of his moves. he leaned until he was pressed right against bheem's ear.
goosebumps broke out on bheem's skin, making ram finally smile fondly.
before he could get lost in the distinctive earthy scents of bheem, he whispered,
"it's a boy. his name is bheem, i love him very much."
the next moments passed in a flurry. bheem's shocked gasp, ram's gentle smile and assurance, and finally —
ram situated bheem on his lap, somehow. arms around his waist and bheem's perched up on his shoulders as the younger peered down at ram, with a cute blush covering the tips of his ears.
ram leaned up, eyes locked with bheem's as he closed the distance between them.
and oh, oh. it was sweeter than anything ram had ever imagined.
━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━
the next morning, they woke up at noon. ram was woken up to commotion as bheem searched around for something. the tent they had been sleeping in was open — cold air rushing in as bheem stepped in and out of the tent.
before he could ask what the matter was, bheem turned around and squeaked seeing ram awake.
whatever has happened to bheem, ram's sleep addled brain wondered, before his eyes wandered down the muscled chest, grinning at the love bites littered everywhere.
possessive bastard, he was.
the desperate need lit up inside him like fire, as he streched himself awake, hiding his smile away from bheem as he stood there, not knowing what to do.
ram got up and stalked closer, and impatient longing to have bheem back in his arms overpowering every other rational thought as he wrapped his arms around bheem's waist and pulled him close until they were pressed together.
"good morning, my love" ram muttered, as he hid his face in the cavicle dip, pressing kisses and running his hands throughout bheem's back.
"if you consider noon as morning, good morning anna" came back the snarky reply, though it carried no heat.
bheem had, himself woken up not long ago, barelled himself headfirst into "ohmygodwhatjusthappened" before heading out and being greeted with knowing looks and winks.
cheeky laughter followed him as he took a bath and headed back to their tent, set away from the rest of the group on purpose to give the couple some much needed privacy.
ram chuckled, as he raised his head, eyes searching for his beloved's. when all he got was nervous flickers of eyes, he gave into his yearning and pressed his lips onto bheem's, the all-consuming fierce want filling them both again.
it seemed to do the trick as bheem quickly looked up, surprised, to find ram's eyes already waiting to greet him.
ram melted all over again, lips locked and hearts joined.
━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━
ram was nervous. bheem noticed it right away, the uncharacteristic chatter he seemed to take up, his calm and composed aura was disturbed.
bheem tried not to think of it as ram being nervous to meet his tribe — in a negative way. maybe the elder was overwhelmed?
they'd decided to take up horses to ride towards his tribe deep within the jungles, peddanna with malli leading the way, jangu and lachu behind, ram and bheem at the very last.
bheem urged ram to come and meet his tribe, as they needed to know who had saved malli as well. ram had profusely denied, urging they go without him and he'd take sita to her home and meet bheem later.
bheem didn't want to push his anna but at the same time he really wanted to show his tribe...his loved one.
though now he doubted whether ram would be comfortable being introduced as bheem's partner.
they stopped for a break mid-way, and bheem decided, that it was now or never.
he approached ram, smiling when their hands automatically connected and their bodies gravitated towards eachother.
"are you nervous, anna?" bheem gently asked, rubbing circles on the elder's thumb.
when no reply came, he continued, "we could just not tell them, if it makes you uncomfortable."
even if it'd sting abit to introduce ram as a friend, he'd do it. it wasn't worth being introduced as eachother's lovers at the cost of ram's comfort.
ram exhaled heavily, an unpleasant dread settling in at the thought of his actual fear.
squeezing bheem's hand, he softly admitted, "it's not that. i am just scared they won't...accept me or see me fit for you."
what followed was bheem's continuous assurances of the tribe loving him no matter what he thought — until he had to shut the other up with a damning kiss on his lips, which left bheem's eyes hazy.
━ ━ 🌟 ━ ━
tags -
@rambheem-is-real @rambheemisgoated @sinistergooseberries @thewinchestergirl1208 @yehsahihai @ronnoxandlumoss @eremin0109 @prdnya-blog @bromance-minus-the-b @mikabilis @obsessedtoafault
( lmk if u want to be tagged/do not want to be tagged in my upcoming rambheem fanfics 🐧 )
a/n; i REALLY wish this was nice to read and not TOOOOOOO long. tbh, i am not satisfied because there wasn't enough kissing AT ALL. i wanted to write smexy times but i'll have to read up if there's any rules/warnings here to give before doing that....cuz i am new 💀👍
ALSO !! i am open to prompts, but might only write those i take a personal writing to.
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kookiecrumb · 3 years
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jjk|| Your Head
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"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej
word count: uhhhh
summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?
tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers
warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship
a/n:
hey guys!
Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.
I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.
The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...
*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.
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5 years ago
You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.
Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.
The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."
You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.
"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.
Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.
You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.
"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--
Ah!
"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.
In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.
The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"
"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.
With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"
"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."
"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.
"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.
"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.
Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.
"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.
For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.
"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.
The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.
"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.
Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.
The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.
"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.
'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."
"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"
Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.
You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.
One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.
He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.
You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"
"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.
"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.
By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.
"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.
He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.
"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"
"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.
"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."
You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.
You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.
Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.
Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.
"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.
Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.
Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.
One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.
Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.
Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.
The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.
"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.
Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.
He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.
He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.
"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"
"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."
You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.
You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.
You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.
The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.
Summer, 1809
"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.
"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.
You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"
You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"
Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."
In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.
"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.
After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.
You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.
"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.
"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"
Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?
"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.
"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.
"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."
It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.
You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.
"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.
Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.
"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."
"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"
"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.
His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.
"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.
"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.
"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.
"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.
He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.
"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.
"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.
Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."
Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."
Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...
'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.
"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.
The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.
The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.
"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.
"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.
"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.
"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.
You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.
One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.
His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"
"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.
Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"
Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.
You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.
You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.
His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.
"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.
You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.
Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.
He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.
He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.
His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.
Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.
"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.
He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.
He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."
"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.
"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.
You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.
His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.
His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.
He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.
"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.
Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.
You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.
His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.
After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.
"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."
"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.
"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.
"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)
Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.
Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.
The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.
All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.
Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.
One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.
"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?
For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.
"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.
Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.
"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.
"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.
"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.
Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.
Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.
You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.
Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.
"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.
"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.
"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.
"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'
You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?
You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.
The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.
Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.
He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.
You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.
A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.
Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."
You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.
"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.
You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.
"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.
"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.
"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.
Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.
Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.
'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.
The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.
So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.
You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."
You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."
"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.
Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.
"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.
Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.
As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.
With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.
"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."
Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.
"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.
"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.
Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.
So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.
But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.
~
a/n:
hope you enjoyed.
573 notes · View notes
robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Note
"The Untamed", but Jiggy has a white cat whom he tells everything.- May or may not be sentient or 'spiritual' like Fairy in the book. (From an idea I've thrown around with my friend @yraelviii)
ao3
He found the cat in Qinghe.
“What are you doing here?” Meng Yao said, crouching down to try to scoop out the little handful of white fluff underneath his cabinet only for it to bare its infantile fangs and him and hiss, moving its butt around as if it thought his fingers ought to be running in fear from its fearsome pounce. “How did you even get in here?”
The cat – a kitten, really, small and scrawny, dirty and covered in ashes as if it had just run out of a forge, but no less passionate for it – squirmed in his hand as he picked it up.
“Who owns you?” Meng Yao asked, and the cat hissed viciously as if to shout no one owns me!
Something about that echoed in Meng Yao’s heart – no one owns me, he thought – and so he fished up some extra meat from his plate, filled a small platter with water, and used the sleeve of an old outfit that needed to be taken to be laundered anyway to wipe the grey ash off of the cat’s white fur while it was distracted by sniffing suspiciously at the food and water that it ultimately declined to consume.
“Just this once,” he told it.
-
Doing good work will often only bring you more work, Meng Yao reflected, and so it was with the cat as much as with anything else. He still didn’t know how the cat managed to get into his rooms, and he sometimes dwelled on paranoid suspicions that there were hiding-holes in his chambers designed to allow others to spy on him, just as there had been in certain rooms in the brothel – though even at his worst moment of uncertainty and doubt he didn’t really think so. He knew that it wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s style even if Meng Yao had been someone important enough to care about, and anyway he didn’t question his own ability to discovery such a thing if it had really existed. He’d checked.
At any rate, however it kept getting into his rooms, the cat was now a regular presence there, lurking around.
It didn’t want to be petted and greeted all attempts to feed it with utter disdain, but despite its general standoffishness it seemed to like being in the same vicinity as Meng Yao, enjoying nothing more than to settle haughtily by the window in his room and watch over Meng Yao as if it thought he might get lost without its supervision.
Meng Yao thought it was probably someone’s pet gotten lost, or maybe even just a feral cat from outside (Qinghe had a fair number of them) that had figured out that it could access the good life by going inside, but it was very hard to sincerely worry over the ill-intentions of a cat, and he was already very busy.
If he didn’t need to care for it, then it wasn’t adding to his troubles. Let the cat sit where it liked!
Meng Yao had found that life in Qinghe was both different and similar to life in Yunping, the only life he had to compare it to, and it amused him to think of the great and righteous Nie sect as an overly large brothel, with the main difference being that they sold their strength where women sold their bodies. In both places there needed to be order, someone to sort things out and tell people where to put things and what to do; in both places Meng Yao, with his quick mind and excellent memory, his sense of understanding people and anticipating their needs, was utterly invaluable in arranging such things.
He had, admittedly, expected it to take a little more time to climb up to the top – the only person he couldn’t understand in this place was Nie Mingjue, who was far too easy to deceive and smiled at him like he really thought they were friends instead of just being master and servant, who appreciated his talents and told him so, who shrugged off his mistakes and had faith that he would do better, who ignored his status instead of lording it over him the way Meng Yao had expected him to. Even when he was angry, when he shouted and slammed his hands against things, Nie Mingjue never once mentioned Meng Yao’s background, and the only things he seemed to hold against him were his own mistakes.
Meng Yao still didn’t know why Nie Mingjue would act so rashly as to promote someone he had just met to a position as high as viceroy, much less actually trust him, but it didn’t really matter. However quixotic his method of reaching a place of power, he was here and his next task was to keep his place until he’d made a reputation for himself.
Part of that he did through his work, good critical work that people needed and which had always won him gratitude even if not respect, but the other part of it was in cultivation. That was the way in which the Nie sect was not like a brothel: you couldn’t just be clever, you couldn’t even just be beautiful - to be respected, you had to cultivate.
Not that wanting to cultivate was a problem for Meng Yao.
He’d always had a memory like a sponge and a body that obeyed his every wish, his childhood of mimicking the beautiful dances of his mother and her ‘sisters’ serving him well in transitioning to learning the sword even if he was years behind everyone else; his mother had bought a thousand fake cultivation manuals for him and he’d learned them all, each one of them more useless than the next, and now that he was here in the cultivation world at long last, he was finally, finally, finally able to cultivate for real.
Using Nie sect methods, of course, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.  
He’d started as soon as he could when he arrived, endlessly grateful that the Nie sect provided training sabers without cost, and he’d snuck one away back to his room so that he could practice on his own time, knowing it would take a long time to form his golden core. He’d debated with himself for a long time as to whether or not it was worth it to invest in a real one – if the training sabers were free, then real proper Nie sabers were somehow three times as expensive as the swords you could buy in the marketplace, and you could only put in a deposit without any notion of when you’d actually get the saber, apparently subject to the contrary dispositions of the spiritual weaponsmiths that made them.
In the end he decided to go for it more or less on a whim, emptying out his hard-built savings to place the order, even though he knew he would one day need to discard whatever they made for him in favor of a sword.
The Jin sect would accept him one day. He would make them.
(If the Nie sect cultivation style was good for one thing, he thought as he went through endless drills of slashing and thrusting, it was that you could work out your anger while you were doing it. There was nothing quite like imagining the face of someone you hated and then bringing down the practice saber in a vicious slash, and oh, but Meng Yao hated so very many people.)
The cat liked watching him train most of all, although Meng Yao suspected it was because seeing him jump around panting was funnier than watching him sit at his desk and gracefully write out letters. It would occasionally start purring, a sound a little like a crackling fire, and eventually Meng Yao got into the habit of going to run his fingers through its fur as a reward for himself when he successfully completed a training sequence.
After a while, he started talking to it, too.
“That commander,” Meng Yao said as he brought the training saber down. His real saber was still on the order, probably stalled purposefully; the smith assigned the task was probably one of the people that thought they were too good to deal with him because of who his mother was, and it’d all been a waste of money in the end. Completely a waste, even if Nie Mingjue had smiled so happily at him when he’d heard about Meng Yao placing the order, his eyes warm and soft and how had that man survived so long in this wretched world of politics and pain, didn’t he know he would always be deceived and betrayed?
Why should he be the exception to the rule, when everyone else had to suffer?
Meng Yao threw away the unhelpful thoughts and thrust the saber forward, as if piercing his invisible opponent straight through the chest.
“That commander.” He minutely corrected his form and stabbed again, this time as if piercing through the belly: a gut wound, a slow and awful way to die. “He’ll regret what he said to me.”
The cat’s purring intensified.
Meng Yao briefly had the wild thought that it approved.
“I just –” Another thrust. “– need to figure out –” An overhead slash. “– how.”
-
Meng Yao ended up taking the cat with him when he left Qinghe.
It probably was someone’s pet and he was opening himself up to a charge of stealing, a charge he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against now that he no longer had Nie Mingjue’s protection –
(Nie Mingjue who had wept tears and blood at what Meng Yao had done, betrayed at last after having finally encountered a deception he could not swallow, who had banished him from the Unclean Realm even after everything Meng Yao had done for him – who had, despite it all, still hidden an entire bag of gold and Meng Yao’s favorite Qinghe snacks in Meng Yao’s things with a short note claiming that it was for unpaid wages. As if Meng Yao had ever let a single pay period go by without claiming exactly what he was due. As if Nie Mingjue still cared despite throwing him out, as if he worried about how Meng Yao might live, as if he hadn’t given up the privilege of caring about things like that – )
He didn’t really care.
He wanted the cat, so he took it. It was the least Qinghe could do for him.
The cat spent all its time in his new rooms in the hotels he stayed out as he traveled: in his bedroom and study, the little gardens that, when available, he liked to use to train in the mornings and evenings. It would even follow him when he took a bath (although that was with great reluctance on the part of the cat, and only if Meng Yao were taking an especially long time in the bath and the cat was worried he’d drowned, yowling angrily as if it could revive him through the power of its voice). If it had once belonged to someone else, it now belonged to Meng Yao, and Meng Yao didn’t give away anything that was his.
“I’ve made worse mistakes,” he said defiantly to the cat, which blinked at him from its side of the carriage he’d used some of the gold to rent. “It’s only that I don’t want to review them in order to think of which ones those might be.”
The cat got up, stretched its back, and walked over to butt its head against Meng Yao’s hand before turning and going back to its spot by the window.
Meng Yao wasn’t sure if that was a sign of agreement or if the cat just thought there was a treat in his hand. Not that the cat had ever accepted treats from his hand.
He still wasn’t sure what the cat ate, actually, but he was sure the cat would make its feelings known now that they weren’t somewhere with a dependable kitchen, though he supposed there was always the possibility that it would start picking up hunting.
“Wen Chao said that they’d aimed at the Cloud Recesses,” Meng Yao said, deciding not to dwell on the things of the past. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about Nie Mingjue’s betrayed eyes or the snacks he hadn’t even known Nie Mingjue had known he’d liked, about the hand-me-down guans and trinkets that Nie Huaisang had insisted were part of his wardrobe when he’d helped him pack even though he knew Nie Huaisang still wore them sometimes, about the fact that he should have been ordered to take the Nie sect’s braids out of his hair when he passed by the gates for the final time since he didn’t deserve them anymore but the two disciples there had just nodded at him and let him pass without a word – nothing to do about the saber he’d ordered, still on the list to be made, and maybe if he made something of himself out in the world alone he would one day come back to claim it at last. “That’s where we’re going now. Lan Xichen might be in danger. I have to help him.”
The cat made a sound like it was considering hacking up a hairball.
“He was kind to me,” Meng Yao said, feeling defensive. “The only one who never judged me –”
Since he’d decided to forget about Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, wiping it out of his mind as if it had never been, that was even true.
“– and he’s a proper gentleman, a good man. I’ll help him.”
That Lan Xichen was also a powerful man was something he wished he didn’t think of, but he couldn’t help the way he was.
“After I help him, I’ll figure out what to do next,” Meng Yao said, like a liar, and the cat looked at him like he was stupid – which he was being, because of course he’d already planned out what to do next, figured out his next move, and there was no point in lying to a cat about it. Meng Yao had skills that were only useful in management, not labor, and the only thing he left to sell was information about the sect from which he’d just been ejected. “No one owns me, right? Let it be the Wen sect.”
The cat did not purr, but it didn’t condemn him, either.
That would have to do.
-
It was a good thing that Meng Yao’s cat was self-sufficient, he thought, because he had neither the time nor the stomach to feed it during his time at the Wen sect.
If he had thought he had worked hard at the Nie sect, he now knew differently: at least there the worst he had faced from his colleagues had been disdain and not outright murder attempts, back-stabbing and undercutting to try to show off to Wen Ruohan, and all the while the man himself demanded more and more from him without the slightest care for his own well-being. He was grist to the mill for Wen Ruohan, no matter how much the Chief Cultivator enjoyed having another man’s prized deputy as his own – Wen Ruohan might had been very nearly driven insane by the Yin Metal, but he still remembered old grudges – and it was night and day away from Nie Mingjue’s reliance on him that was based on trust, rather than reluctantly satisfied suspicion and paranoia.
Meng Yao had hidden the cat as best as he could from the start, thinking rightfully that people would try to use it against him, and to his relief it seemed that no one else had yet laid eyes on it and identified it as his own, despite its white fur standing out like a beacon to his sight. Unfortunately there were some people that had managed to figure out that he had a cat, even if they didn’t lay eyes on it themselves, and he’d had more than a few incidents in which someone had left poisoned meat out on the floor by his room in order to catch it.
The cat seemed as unimpressed with that as anything else.
Instead, the cat seemed to have taken up hunting as its pastime. It brought back the corpses of small birds, the Yin Metal-infused little spies, full of resentful energy, that Wen Ruohan had developed for his sons to use. At first Meng Yao worried about the cat getting somehow poisoned by them, but time went on and it seemed to be fine, even thriving. It had grown into a proper cat now, no longer a kitten, and it enjoyed licking its white and shining fur until it was gleaming.
It didn’t like Meng Yao’s training sessions as much – he trained with a sword now, two-faced just like him, and in a dozen different styles, Wen and Jiang and Jin, always Jin – so sometimes Meng Yao would go back to doing the old Nie sect style again, knowing the cat would recognize the familiar movements, and it was a surefire way to get the cat to purr.
The Nie sect style was also still the best for getting out anger, all aggression and sharp movements, and Meng Yao still had a lot of anger inside of him. He was starting to think he always would.
At least here in the Nightless City he could kill the people he hated, as long as he did so in low and dirty ways that didn’t trouble Wen Ruohan or interfere with his plans, and yet every time he did it, he felt no relief, only a vile and wretched stickiness that came, perhaps, from that awful Yin Metal that he had schemed over yet couldn’t seem to escape.
The cat didn’t like the Yin Metal one bit. It hissed and scratched, and in one notable incident seemed like it was going to pounce on it directly if Meng Yao hadn’t caught it mid-leap and shoved it into his sleeve before anyone had noticed it.
“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Meng Yao told the cat next time he trained, using the soft sword he’d hidden away for a time of need to hack and slash in the Nie way, which didn’t work with a soft sword at all but which made him feel strangely better. He was currently imagining Wen Ruohan’s head underneath a saber, his head and the heads of all those corpse puppets he’d created. “I will cut you loose if you do that.”
The cat rolled onto its back and showed its soft and fluffy belly, which only the truly unwise would seek to lay a hand on – Meng Yao still had scars – and Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “No one owns you, not even me. But do me a favor and don’t screw this up for me. Not when I’m so close.”
Lan Xichen had been accepting his letters and feeding them to Nie Mingjue, who trusted as blindly as he ever did. Meng Yao wished sometimes that he didn’t, that he would learn, that he would put some defenses up on that stupid reckless heart of his, but on the other hand it suited his plans very well that he didn’t.
Soon, he thought. Soon.
Soon he’d know what he needed to do.
-
“Now he chooses not to trust people,” Meng Yao complained to his cat. “Now. Now!”
The cat purred.
It wasn’t that Meng Yao (damnit, Jin Guangyao, he had a new name, he was Jin Guangyao now) couldn’t understand Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to trust him – fool me once, fool me twice, but three times seemed to be the other man’s breaking point – and in some ways he understood it more than ever now that he had been accepted back by the Jin sect, clothed in the gold he’d always deserved to wear.
Jin Guangshan hadn’t lost much in the war, not like the other sects, and the second it was over he was already scheming. Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was pulled right into the thick of it at once, less for his spying capability than for his sheer disposability, the fact that Jin Guangshan wasn’t willing to burden his pure and righteous heir with black matters that he was more than happy to taint the son of his whore with. With Nie Mingjue, general and hero of the Sunshot Campaign, representing the only real threat to the Jin sect’s domination, even if he didn’t want to be, Jin Guangyao was bound to be in opposition to him.
It made sense for Nie Mingjue not to trust him.
It irritated him regardless.
Still, lack of trust or no, Nie Mingjue had succumbed to Lan Xichen’s impassioned arguments and had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, even if Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue’s primary motivation was to keep a better eye on him and scold him the way he did Nie Huaisang. It would be politically beneficial to Jin Guangyao to be tied in such a way to Nie Mingjue – it would suit his own desires as well, though that was less important – and so he had of course agreed as well, and he was planning on going to their oath ceremony in the outfit he had chosen for himself, gold from neck to foot, a sword he’d taken from the treasury since no one would order him one of his own, and a hat on his head like the ones his mother so admired to make up for his lack of height and to hide the Nie sect braids he still habitually wore underneath.
An old habit, and one he really ought to break, really. Ideally before Nie Mingjue figured it out and told him to cut it out.
There was a knock on the door, a familiar pounding, and the cat looked up, intrigued, even as Jin Guangyao sighed voicelessly to himself. Perhaps he had waited too long.
Perhaps it would be better to make a clean cut in this way, too.
He opened the door.
“Sect Leader Nie,” he greeted, thinking to himself that it would only be a few more hours before he was entitled to call the man da-ge as if they were nearly equals and how strange that would be. “Can this humble one help you?”
“Can I come in?” Nie Mingjue asked gruffly, his eyes lingering on Jin Guangyao’s uncovered and Nie-braided hair, just as he might have expected. Had expected.
Jin Guangyao nodded and stepped back, allowing him in, and closed the door behind him. “Could I get the sect leader some refreshments?” he asked politely, but Nie Mingjue seemed to have come to a stop right in the entranceway, surprise written all over his features. “Sect Leader Nie?”
Nie Mingjue was staring at Jin Guangyao’s cat.
“…Sect Leader Nie?”
Did Nie Mingjue not like cats? There were an endless number of feral cats in Qinghe, so it seemed implausible, and yet, here Nie Mingjue was, looking at the cat like he’d never seen such a thing before in its life.
Of course, at that exact moment, Jin Guangyao’s cat, the traitor, hopped off its pillow and went straight to rub itself against Nie Mingjue’s leg, purring like a little maniac.
Jin Guangyao stared at it, feeling thoroughly betrayed by what he would have previously said was his thoroughly unsociable cat, who had taken years to warm up to him enough to give him half the attention it was now bestowing freely on Nie Mingjue. Was this the heavens deciding to mock him for his earlier betrayals?
Alternatively, Nie Mingjue might just be very good with cats, which Jin Guangyao could believe. Perhaps he even carried in his pockets some of the Qinghe vine that cats were said to be so enamored of, although certainly Meng Yao’s cat had never once before shown an interest in such things before.
“…what’s its name?” Nie Mingjue croaked, voice hoarse. He was still staring fixedly at the cat, looking as though his entire world had shattered around him. He hadn’t even looked so unsettled when Jin Guangyao had so viciously mocked him at the Nightless City, and at the time he’d thought he was going to die and be turned into a corpse puppet to murder all his loved ones.
Jin Guangyao was tempted to say something rude or facetious, something like ‘I just call it Cat, why, do you name random cats?’, but the cat had been a good companion of his for a long time now and he couldn’t do that to it, even if he was currently planning on taking an extra long bath to force the cat to miserably linger by the door to the bathing room, screeching in unhappiness at the wet, but bravely (if grumpily) supervising him to make sure he didn’t drown.
“Hensheng,” he said, because that was in fact what he’d named it – it meant hatred for life, which was not exactly an auspicious name but which had stuck from the very moment he had thought it up – and waited to hear Nie Mingjue’s judgment. “It’s not normally quite so sticky,” he added in an attempt to save some face. “With most people.”
“Well, it’s me, that’s different,” Nie Mingjue said, and maybe the man really was just the human incarnation of the plant cats liked so much. Meng Yao really wouldn’t put it past him. “You...you cultivate in the Nie sect style? Still?”
Jin Guangyao blinked, surprised by the change in subject.
“Yes,” he said, a little hesitantly. He cultivated many styles now, although it was always the Jin sect style when he was in public. But he still had all the anger in his belly to vent – even more so now than before, anger at his father, anger at Madame Jin, anger at his brother born to a blessed life, anger at all those disciples that sneered at him even after he’d been legitimized, anger, anger, anger – and the Nie sect style had always been the best for that.
And anyway, it made the cat purr.
“Is that a problem, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said, and when he turned to look at him his eyes were warm and soft the way they’d been all the way before the fiasco with Xue Yang, shimmering with tears of joy and a smile that seemed to come straight from his heart, the foolish easily deceived man. It was so unexpected that Jin Guangyao actually took a full two steps back, his jaw dropping a little. “I’m happy for you. Very happy.”
He actually wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, dashing away the tears.
“You should come back to the Unclean Realm to pick it up when the brotherhood ceremony is done,” he added nonsensically. “I can’t imagine how long it’s been waiting for you.”
“…what?” Jin Guangyao said. “Pick up what?”
“Hensheng,” Nie Mingjue said, which – what? “Your saber. Hensheng.”
His saber?
The saber he’d never gotten, having been banished from the Unclean Realm before the order was finished, the one he’d spent all his savings on just in putting in the deposit, the one he’d never actually finished paying off? He remembered it, of course, and sometimes it still itched under his skin that he’d never gotten what he was owed because everything that was owed to him he deserved to get in the end. But…
“Hensheng is my cat,” he said.
Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “That’s not a cat,” he said. “That’s a saber spirit.”
Jin Guangyao’s gaze dropped down to the cat.
The cat that never seemed to eat anything or drink anything, that never once fell for the poisoned meat or accepted his offers of treats, that no one in the Nightless City had ever seen with their own eyes; the cat that could consistently get into his rooms despite there being no holes for it to enter, as if it had simply passed through the walls like a ghost.
Like a spirit.
The cat, which purred whenever Jin Guangyao practiced the Nie sect forms, swinging a saber with rage in his heart.
The cat to which he had confessed all his anger, all his frustration, all his rage, all the feelings he never gave to any human being around him – the sabers of the Nie sect thrived on such emotions, those feelings that encouraged them and strengthened them, developing the saber spirits that made each one of them a spiritual weapon unlike any other, with power and rage infused into the very blade.
Saber spirits, which only those born into the Nie sect or adopted early, raised in their ways, one of them, could form.
“A saber spirit?” Jin Guangyao said weakly, and his knees suddenly didn’t seem strong enough to hold him; he swayed and Nie Mingjue stepped forward quickly, catching him by the shoulders to steady him. “I cultivated a saber spirit?”
“The saber is back in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Mingjue said, not without kindness. “It was only ever waiting for you to pick it up once you developed the spirit, so that you could introduce the two.”
“It hasn’t been – I would have thought it would have been thrown away, or repurposed –”
“It’s a Nie saber, Meng Yao. It won’t obey anyone else ever again, not in this life; it is yours, yours alone. When one day you die, it will be buried with honor in our saber halls, just like all the others.”
The cat looked up at him and purred.
No one owns me, Jin Guangyao thought – the first thing the cat had said to him, and he’d always had a good understanding of what the cat wanted from the very first. No one had owned that wild spirit then, but it had stayed by his side, at first from curiosity and later from habit, and it was his now.
His, and no one else’s.
“Will you come pick it up?” Nie Mingjue asked, hope in his eyes. “Will you come home, if only for a little while?”
“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said. “Yes, I will.”
-
Later, Jin Guangshan told his son to kill Nie Mingjue, that fool who trusted too much and didn’t know when he was being deceived, finding him in his rigidity and righteousness too much of a burden on the power he planned to wield.
Jin Guangyao bowed as deep as he could, a smile on his lips, saying nothing, and the next day, when Jin Guangshan went to the brothel as he always did, drinking tea served by his son the way he always did, he never did figure out why his heart had stopped.
(The saber Jin Guangyao began to wear openly after the funeral – a gift from his sworn brother, he said with a smile, in remembrance of his time at the Nie sect – purred in pure satisfaction.)
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moonbeambucky · 4 years
Text
Hey Neighbor (Part 20)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 7235 Warnings: fluff, smut, angst
Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.
A/N: I’m patiently waiting for some screaming! Feedback is always appreciated!
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HEY NEIGHBOR PART 19 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST
Making your way downstairs was a little awkward and you barely made eye contact with Bucky. Winnie was waiting outside by the idling car, laughing at the person who had their back to you. They were fairly tall in a pewter suit and had short brown hair that was closely shaved in the back. Winnie nudged her chin and the person turned around, a smile spreading across their unfamiliar and yet completely recognizable face.
They shared the same deep blue eyes and dimple on their chin as Bucky and you knew this had to be Rebecca. Their hair was longer in the front, falling just beside their eyes, sparkling with gold and plum shadow.
“Bex!” Bucky exclaimed, smiling just as widely to see his sibling, wrapping them in a big hug.
“You cut your hair!” Rebecca looked at it approvingly. “Tryin’ to copy me I see,” they joked.
You smiled watching them together, forgetting any awkward feelings between yourself and Bucky; they were now solely reserved for introductions with Rebecca whose effortlessly cool vibe had you on edge for some reason.
Bucky pulled away from the hug, placing his hand behind you, almost touching the bare skin of your back before he realized that might be too intimate.
“Bex this is Y/N,” he introduced with a proud smile you couldn’t see.
“So nice to meet you,” you said, not expecting the hug they gave you.
Winnie stepped in the moment Rebecca stepped back to give you a hug of her own. She turned to check in with George who stayed in the car listening to a classic rock radio station.
“Okay let’s not be late,” she chirped, pointing at the watch not present on her wrist. “James, you sit in the front. We’ll all squeeze in the back.”
Rebecca got in first, sliding across the black leather seats to take the smaller spot in the middle. It wasn’t crowded with the three of you sitting together but Winnie made a good call not letting Bucky’s bulkier frame encroach on you or Rebecca had he been seated back there.
You saw swirls of ink on Rebecca’s wrist as they shifted to pull out their phone, which prompted them to roll up their sleeves, showing off part of the tattoos that cover their arm.
“It’s not done yet,” they said, revealing a bare spot on their forearm beside a large watercolor macaw tattoo.
Bucky’s head turned back ever so slightly, his eyes trying to see as much as he could without being so obvious as he watched you and Rebecca interact. He knows why he’s so nervous, his family hasn’t met anyone in his life since Olivia.
He scoffed internally when he thought about it. He was a kid, a kid with a broken heart that should have gotten over it a long time ago. But had things been different maybe Bucky would have never met you. He smiled to himself, thankful for his choices– no matter how childish, because they led him here.
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Softly colored roses in peach and pale pinks were draped along the wooden archway, the gossamer fabric wrapped around the posts fluttered delicately with the wind. A golden sunset on the water served as the backdrop for an even more beautiful ceremony, celebrating the love of two people that never expected to find it.
Bucky looked over to catch a glimpse of the fading sun sparkling in your eyes. The soft sigh he exhaled was masked by the sound of cheers that rang out amongst the crowd as the newlyweds kissed.
The crowd dispersed onto the adjacent patio where lanterns hung from large sturdy trees, white pillar candles flickering inside. Soft pink fabric was draped over the tables, some small with golden framed chairs surrounding them, others free standing high tops that were scattered around beside the neatly trimmed lawn. Each had a handful of tealight candles gently glowing on top.
You followed Bucky and his family to the table where the hors d'oeuvres were served, taking the plate he handed you and picking up a few things. The display at the end of the table made you burst out with laughter. Among the fresh fruit and crudité were oversized plastic ants, each with a piece of fruit on their backs arranged in a line as if they were walking away with them.
Bucky shrugged. “It’s a thing with Hope’s family… I never really asked,” he chuckled, picking up a few strawberries from the platter behind the fake ants.
George pulled a chair from another table so you could all sit together. Placing his plate down he asked Winnie if she wanted a glass wine and she nodded, confident in knowing George knew what her favorite was.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Bucky asked. He knew what you drank when everyone went out together but he didn’t want to assume, waiting for you to respond before he and Rebecca accompanied their father to the bar.
Winnie didn’t hesitate to talk once they’d left, specifically about how happy she was Bucky was able to bring you. “He caused such a fuss, begging Scott and Hope to give him a last minute plus one.”
At that moment you wished you had a drink to bring to your lips, covering up the way her revelation had left you slack jawed. According to Bucky you were invited because he responded for two, making it seem as if you were doing him a huge favor by coming but the more Winnie spoke you realized your invitation was never to fill a seat; he was begging and pleading to bring a guest, to bring you.
“I can tell you’re special Y/N. I’ve never seen James this way with anyone in a long, long time.”
You couldn’t speak if you tried, smiling back at Winnie as your mind raced to free your heart from the protective cage it was locked away in. For once they were on the same page, heart and mind, desperate to run together right to Bucky.
When he returned to the table you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, maintaining a soft smile as your heart fluttered like a hummingbird inside your chest, desperate to break free and scream out your feelings from the top of your lungs.
You thanked him for the drink he brought back, letting your fingers linger on his hand for a beat longer than they should have, keeping your gaze locked with his before slowly turning towards Rebecca to answer the question they asked. Bucky’s cheeks were a blooming pink that practically matched the decor, his skin prickling with the memory of your touch.
Time passed quickly over conversation along with extended family members coming over to say hello. You didn’t miss the way Bucky smiled widely as he introduced you, simply as Y/N but wishing his lips had spoken the words written on your heart and called you his.
The grand doors of the ballroom opened when it was time for the reception. Bucky offered his arm which you took as he led you inside. Large chandeliers hung from the intricately detailed ceiling. Tall vases served as the centerpiece on the tables, each filled with a large arrangement of similar colored roses from the archway.
Pulling out the chair for you to be seated, Bucky happened to catch the approving smile on his father’s face, looking away to avoid an embarrassing flush to his cheeks if he held the knowing look any longer. He turned his gaze towards you and the beautiful smile that lit up your whole face as you and Rebecca were continuing your conversation from before.
Bucky sighed, feeling his heart swell even more as he realized he didn’t have to ask what his family thought about you, each of them unable to hold back their own smiles. They like you as much as he does, they want you to be with him as much as he does and if they knew how much of an idiot he’s been, denying his feelings for so long they would definitely cause a scene. But Bucky knows it won’t be long before he finally tells you.
So many scenarios went through his mind; inviting you to dinner next weekend and planning a whole speech, bursting through your door tomorrow night spilling out all the words in his heart in a mess of emotions, kiss you tonight, tomorrow, any day, every day! It doesn’t matter how, he just wants you to know.
His thoughts were interrupted by Scott and Hope making their entrance and sharing their first dance in front of everyone. Bucky reined in his thoughts that imagined the two of you in their place, a concept he never gave much attention to before believing it wasn’t for him, but with you by his side…
“Oh how sweet!” your voice beamed, pulling Bucky back to reality.
Cassie had run out onto the dance floor, swaying side to side with Hope and her father holding their hands. Scott lifted her into his arms, slinging her on his hip as Hope moved close enough for both of them to plant a kiss on both of her cheeks at the same time.
The photographer captured the moment along with so many more memories as the night went on especially when Scott’s best man Luis gave a very entertaining (and somewhat never ending) toast. You and Rebecca ran into him at the bar, unable to get much of a word in as Luis enthusiastically rambled on about how happy he is to be at Scott’s wedding.
“When I first met Scotty he was in a bed place, and I’m not talking about cell block D. His wife had just filed for divorce. And I was like, ‘Damn homie, she dumped you while you were in lock up?’ And he was like ‘Yeah I know. I thought I was gonna be with her forever but now I’m all alone!’ And I was like, ‘Damn homie, you gotta chin up. ‘Cause you’ll find a new partner.’ And he did! And it all started when I was at a wine tasting with my cousin Ernesto…”
You were focused on Luis’ very detailed story unaware of Bucky’s eyes on you from across the room. He was startled by Scott, squeezing his shoulders from behind and Bucky turned around to give his cousin a congratulatory hug.
“You haven’t told her yet, huh?” Scott said, his lips pulling into a crooked smile. Bucky’s brows knit together confused. “I see the way you look at her.”
Bucky sighed, looking at Scott without replying. There was nothing to say; he was caught staring at you from the far side of the room because he was too much of a coward to tell you how he felt.
“Hey I know you might be scared. After divorcing Maggie I was terrified, thought I’d never be able to put myself out there again and then I found Hope.”
Bucky sees the smile crinkling your eyes, hears your laughter that’s sweeter than music. “You’re right Scott, I have been scared… but I’m not anymore.” A content smile spreads across his face.
There’s a calm sense of relief that washes over Bucky as he knows with certainty that there is nothing he’s ever wanted more in his life. The universe is with him, ending the fast paced song that matched the beat of his heart to something slow and romantic.
Bucky strides across the hallway like he’s floating on a cloud until he reaches you. The words flow like smooth honey as he asked, “Would you like to dance?”
His hand is soft against yours, your whole body giddy with delight as he guides you to the dance floor. Time moves in slow motion, the world around you fading away as Bucky takes your hand in his, moving his other to the small of your back.
It was intimate, close and exactly how you wanted it to be. You let out a soft sigh as you relaxed into his embrace, letting your free arm glide up the fabric of his suit, curving it over his shoulder and looking deeply into his eyes. His pupils were blown with desire as Bucky stared back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an ever so slight smile.
Words were not spoken as you swayed together with the music but you both felt a change; like breathing foreign air, something felt different. You and Bucky danced in a world of your own, the past a distant memory that held your fears behind, finally allowing your heart to soar freely.
A smile pulled at your lips, one that felt brighter than the sun as you truly let go of everything that was holding you back. You moved closer, letting yourself drown in Bucky’s intoxicating scent, like cinnamon toasting over a warm fire as you nuzzled your nose into his neck.
He squeezed you tighter, his heart doing backflips in his chest, unable to fathom that this was actually happening. His nose grazes along the shell of your ear and you hear the soft inhalation of breath coming from his parted lips. A wave of tingles ran down your spine, shocking yourself into remembering you and Bucky were not alone but very much in the middle of a public setting surrounded by his family.
You pulled back to his surprise but the smile that would never cease to leave your face calmed his nerves.
“Follow me,” you purred, not letting go of Bucky’s hand as you led him outside.
A few people were scattered outside on the patio, some gathered around the high top tables that still remained, enjoying their drinks over conversation. You smiled over your shoulder back at Bucky, pulling him further away until you reached the area where the ceremony took place. The chairs had been cleared but the archway remained, the fabric wrapped around it still blowing in the wind.
You stopped at the edge of the railing, looking out onto the water as moonlight danced on the gentle waves. Goosebumps prickled all over your skin but you couldn’t be sure if it was from the breeze or Bucky standing close beside you.
The beating of your heart grew faster and you wondered if he could hear the drumming through your chest. A lump was caught in your throat as you felt Bucky’s hand cover yours on the railing. You turned your head to face him, slowly lifting your eyes from his perfect lips, the sight of them made you lick your own, meeting his eyes, the darkness reflecting a moonlit sparkle.
The memory of your New Years kiss made you shiver, letting a shaky breath out as you turned your body to face him, letting your hands wrap around his neck, his hands resting on your waist, closing the distance between you.
It wasn’t New Years, it wasn’t even the Fourth of July but you felt fireworks erupting in your stomach as you kissed, his soft lips massaging yours with a passionate fervor that grew by the second. You needed more, parting your lips for his skillful tongue to slip past them, deepening the kiss and loving the way he moaned as your hand scratched through his hair.
Distant laughter reminded you once again that you were still not alone but in the moment you really wanted to be. When the need for air became too great you pulled away.
“I missed that,” you admitted through a smile, catching your breath.
Bucky caressed your cheek gently with his fingers, his whole face lighting up in delight. “Would you believe me if I said the same?”
“Maybe,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck again.
“Would you believe me if I told you how I can’t get you off my mind? That ever since you came into my life I’ve been fighting the feelings I’ve had for you?” You nodded softly at his admission believing every word, knowing that what you’ve been feeling wasn’t just in your imagination, that things between you and Bucky had changed and finally the truth was out.
“I’m tired of fighting them,” he said, “I– ” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, sweetly stealing a soft kiss as you hummed against him.
Your smiles could not be contained, staring deeply into each other’s eyes under the silver glow of the moonlight. You would have stayed that way for longer had you not heard the echo of a voice coming from inside. Bucky peeked over your shoulder to see other people heading back in for the cake cutting.
With your fingers laced together you went back inside, taking your seats and ignoring the smirk Rebecca and Winnie had on their faces after noticing your lipstick was no longer existent, not on your lips at least. Luckily their eyes were focused on the newlyweds and not on Bucky’s hand which casually found its way to your thigh, his thumb gently running back and forth over the smooth material of your dress.
Scott dabbed a bit of frosting on the tip of Hope’s nose as she smushed a larger piece on his face, laughing and happily kissing his messy mouth to a round of cheers. The night continued with more dancing and Bucky’s family leaving just after the garter and bouquet toss.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Winnie said, having added you as a friend on Facebook. “George barbecues a lot over the summer so I hope to see you and James more often.” She wrapped you in a strong embrace, followed by Rebecca who had given you their Instagram, hoping to keep in touch as well.
George said goodbye with a friendly hug, reiterating your invitation. “James may be the musician but I’m the maestro of the barbecue.”
Bucky let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his embarrassment making you chuckle even more at his dad’s joke. Opening their arms to each other they hugged, and Bucky said goodbye to everyone.
“Get home safe!” Bucky called out as they walked down the hall.
You and Bucky stayed for a little while longer before saying goodnight to Hope, Scott and a few others, waiting outside of the main entrance for your Uber to arrive. Your lower lip trembled from the cold but less than a moment later you felt the weight of Bucky’s jacket around your shoulders. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek that added to the warmth you felt.
The Uber arrived shortly and once you were settled inside you leaned your head against Bucky’s shoulder. His arm wrapped around you, rubbing your own through his jacket as your hand caressed his for the duration of the ride back to the hotel.
Bucky helped you out of the car, his jacket slipping off your shoulders as you stood up. You didn’t need it anymore, feeling warmth spread through your body from his touch. The walk to the elevator was short and quiet, both of you holding back awkward smiles and smitten feelings.
When the doors opened to your floor you felt your heart pounding louder with every step that brought you closer to the hotel room. Bucky swiped the card into the door, holding it open for you as it unlocked. The beating amplified when you heard the door shut and Bucky turning the locks. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide anymore, not with both of your feelings out there.
He laid his jacket over the chair as you set your clutch to the side. His steps were hesitant, full of tension as he got closer to you, finally finding the courage to take your hands in his. Up close you could see the blush that brightened his cheeks, smiling at the way he licked his lips, sucking his bottom one into his mouth and nervously chewing on it.
You brought your hand up to cup his cheek, feeling the beginnings of stubble scratch at your palm. Lifting his gaze to yours you locked eyes with Bucky, seeing the retreat of blue as they grew darker the longer you stared at each other. Exhaling a shaky breath you moved your hand to the nape of his neck bringing him closer as you pressed your lips against his.
With that touch the dam of restraint broke and Bucky was kissing you back, his hands cupping the side of your face, your jaw, anywhere and everywhere as he deepened the kiss. Your hands were roaming his body, grazing across the strong muscles of his back and down his sides again as you held on to his waist.
Gulps of breath were quick as the need to make out was greater than oxygen, but when you did stop to fill your lungs with air you smiled against each other, foreheads and noses touching before he would capture your lips again, sucking softly on your bottom lip. You hummed against him, parting your lips for his tongue to slip inside and caress yours.
You gasped when the back of your knees unexpectedly hit the edge of the mattress, quickly losing your balance and pulling Bucky down with you. He braced himself with one arm above you, smiling at the way your face lit up beautifully with laughter. Bucky waited for you to center your gaze on him again before he brought his lips back to yours. His kiss was soft and slow, passionate and needy, wanting to prolong every second with you and hoping this wasn’t a dream. If it was he never wanted to wake up, preferring to spend the rest of his existence here with you in this perfect world.
His mouth explored your body, running his tongue down your skin until you gasped when he discovered that sensitive spot where your collarbone and neck met. Bucky smirked as you writhed against him, letting a sultry moan fall from your lips as he sucked your skin gently.
The sound alone made him hard and your hips lifting against his didn’t help. Bucky pulled away breathless, knowing he had to stop despite wanting this to never end.
“I can’t, we…” He swallowed dryly, bringing one hand to cup the soft skin of your cheek. “I don’t have protection.”
Not bringing condoms on a weekend that practically guaranteed sex did not sound like the man you first knew who was banging his way through every woman in Manhattan, but Bucky hasn’t been that man in a long time. Somehow over the course of your friendship he’s grown, changed into the person that admitted to what even he thought was impossible, having feelings and wanting more than just sex.
Bucky crawled back off of you, digging his knees into the mattress as he blew out harsh breaths to try and handle his situation accordingly. A smile spread slowly across your face as you pushed yourself up from the bed, quickly moving out of the way as Bucky swung his legs over the side as you remembered what Wanda thankfully snuck into your bag.
Feeling awkward and embarrassed, Bucky didn’t pay much attention to what you were doing, not lifting his head until he saw you standing in front of him with something in your hand.
“I have them,” you said firmly, opening your palm to reveal the package of condoms, the foil reflecting off the light. Your chest heaved with anticipation until Bucky’s eyes met yours.
The shock on his face was clear, never expecting any of this to happen. His back stiffened cautiously as he asked with trepidation, “Are you sure? We don’t have to– ”
“I know. I want to.”
Simple words, simple truths.
The corner of Bucky’s mouth pulled into a smile as you stepped in between his legs, leaning in to tease your lips against his but not give in to what he wanted. Instead you pushed on his chest to make him lay flat on the mattress, lifting the fabric of your dress you got on the bed to straddle him.
Bucky swallowed a dry gulp, his hands skimming first up your thighs and then your waist as you leaned forward to hover over him again. This time he doesn’t let you tease him. He took your lips feverishly, letting your tongues dance in a passionate tango. Your hips begin to move, grinding against his arousal and he whimpers against your mouth.
He gets the urge to tear off your clothes and fuck you hard into the mattress and if you were anyone else he would have, but Bucky doesn’t want this to be about sex. He wants to do something he hasn’t done in a very long time, connect with someone physically and emotionally at once.
Soft hands cup your cheeks, holding your face above him as Bucky stares deeply past your eyes and into your heart. A tender smile pulls at his mouth, one that makes you slow down and smile back at him, letting out soft exhalations that try to match the beat of his.
He sets the tempo, lifting his head to press his lips gently against yours, his hand running up and down your back. Cradled in his arms, Bucky shifted so that you were both lying side by side, his lips never leaving yours, swallowing every moan that fell from your heavenly mouth.
Your hands roamed his body; caressing the back of his head as you deepened the kiss with your tongue, feeling solid muscle beneath his shirt as you rubbed down his chest. His hands brushed against your thigh, over the globes of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You can’t help the moan that escapes as a dull ache radiates from your core.
Instinctively, your hips move against him craving more friction as your hands make quick work of his belt. His hand skimmed up your side, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipple.
The breath stilled in your throat like the measure of time around you, slowing down enough so you could see every touch, feel the brush of his lips; each one the scratch of a pen on a music sheet, creating a song one note at a time.
Open mouth kisses trailed down your skin leaving you breathless as his hands pulled down the fluttering sleeves of your dress. Unclasping the buttons of his shirt, you peeled it off his body as he reached around to tug down your zipper, letting the fabric fall off you. You were drawn to each other’s bodies, warm mouths on warm skin that grew hotter by the moment.
A steady cadence of moans falls from your lips as Bucky worships you with his mouth. It’s better than anything you imagined on those nights when headphones blocked out the primal sounds of pleasure coming from next door. The pitch of your cries reaches new heights as he sends you over the edge, hands grabbing at his hair from between your thighs to brace yourself.
Blue eyes tainted dark with lust peek open to watch your writhe in ecstasy as you come undone. Bucky stays with you through it, his hands laced with yours as your body comes down from blissful heaven. He kisses his way up your body pulling soft moans and gasps from you along the way until he found your lips again; aching, hungry, desperate for his tongue.
You ease him to his back, kissing down Bucky’s neck until you reach the band of his briefs. Your eyes widen at the outline of his arousal, he lifts his hips to help you slide them off and your legs clench together at the sight of his thick cock springing up and slapping his stomach. He quivered with anticipation as you take him in your hands, a low groan rumbling in his throat as he watches himself disappear into your warm mouth.
Euphoric pleasure washes over Bucky as you hum around him, his moans becoming a sweet melody to your ear. Before it’s too much he pulls you off of him, grabbing your face in a plea for your lips against his. He skims his hands along the bed searching for the condom, having to get up to find it as you settle onto your back. The wrapper is torn open, the condom sliding down on his length.
Bucky takes a moment to look at you, to really look at you in a way he’s never taken the time before when he’s been with someone. Your smile lights up his heart and he presses his lips against yours softly. You wonder if he’s waiting for a sign, staring up at his smile stretched out so far he can hardly contain it. With a roll of your hips you rock against him and after losing himself in your eyes Bucky almost forgets what’s supposed to come next– almost.
Wetness gathers on his length and he pushes in gently, his gasps harmonizing with yours as he fills you completely. His lips are on your again because Bucky can’t help it, hooked like a drug on the immediate relief that comes with the investment of his heart.
The rhythm is set by the slow thrust of his hips, you claw at his back as he deepens his sensual pace, the friction bringing you closer and closer. It’s not long before you shudder around him, the first of many times that have you crying out his name; wondering but ultimately not caring if these walls were as thin as the ones in your apartment.
Your cries reach a new octave as he orchestrates your pleasure, thrusting to meet your hips as you ride him. Together you create a symphony that crescendos as you ride the waves of bliss together, the melody forever imprinting on his soul. Breathless, your lips find each other’s, molding together perfectly as you slowly come down; bodies covered in a sheen of sweat that makes you glow.
You whimper as you untangle from each other, immediately missing his warmth. Bucky tied off the condom, getting up to toss it in the small bin beside the desk. The wiggle of his butt made a smile form on your face that grew as he got back into bed, the weight of his arm curling around you and pulling you close against him. Bucky’s fingertips stroked your skin as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. His lips pressing a kiss to your forehead as you rubbed his chest, humming softly as your spent body relaxed into his.
“Tired?” he asked through a rasped whisper. You hummed in response and Bucky adjusted the blankets over you. “Go to sleep, I’ve got you.” The breath of his murmurs fall gently against your head.
Reaching to the side he clicked off the table lamp. In the darkness his lips found yours a final time, stealing a sweet kiss before you adjusted yourself against him again. Your palm rested above his heart and Bucky wondered if you could feel the way it was still beating with elation. He covered your hand with his, hearing you let out a soft hum as you smiled against him.
The bed is warm, made warmer with your bodies tangled together. Bucky listens in silence to the gentle sounds you make as you drift asleep. He syncs his breath with yours, turning his head ever so slightly to place a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead. The rhythm of his heart relaxes to a beat he’s never felt before, one that fills his body and soul with a warm and fuzzy feeling that makes him feel like he would float away if you weren’t resting on him.
A smile secured itself on Bucky’s face as he fell asleep realizing that this feeling might actually be love.
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You woke up feeling like last night was a dream, but the weight of Bucky behind you brought you quickly back to reality, one you never imagined would be yours.
His arm was wrapped around your waist keeping your bodies close, a shocking difference of the Bucky you knew that kicked his late night lovers out as quickly as possible. Then again Bucky isn’t that person anymore.
He was still asleep, feeling the breath from his nose against the back of your neck and as much as you needed to get up you stayed in bed for as long as possible, cherishing every moment spent in his arms.
You sensed when he woke up not long after. Bucky inhaled deeply, letting out a soft hum.
“Hey neighbor,” you whispered softly, rubbing his arm that was draped across your waist.
He tightened his hold, squeezing you even closer, smiling at the faint scent of perfume that lingered on your neck. You squirmed as he nuzzled the tip of his cold nose into it, leaving a trail of soft kisses along your skin.
“Mornin’ beautiful,” he rasped.
You tilted your head back, trying to get a glimpse of him but it was easier to turn around completely. Bucky still held you as you twisted to face him, staring up at his beautiful half-sleepy smile and soft gaze that shined like the sun as he looked at you.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his fingers lightly tracing your face. You nodded, a smile pulling so strong as your eyes beamed with happiness. “Good.”
He kissed you sweetly, soft pecks for your sake that were mindful of the morning breath he felt. He should get up to brush his teeth but Bucky didn’t want to, instead he rested his head against your shoulder, curling himself around you and smiling when he felt your arms wrap around him.
Bucky never knew how badly he missed a feeling he never had, feeling comforted in someone’s arms. He never knew how amazing it was to wake up with someone, to cuddle with them, hold them and be held. He’s slept with countless people but no amount of sex has ever equaled what he felt in this moment.
He could scold himself for missing out on this for so long but he doesn’t, because now he has the opportunity to share all these firsts with you and he hopes you’ll be his last.
The scratch of your nails running lazily through his hair made Bucky practically purr against you, the simple act awakening all of his senses, igniting his body in a way that could only be quenched by the heat of your skin against his.
He smirks at the memory of your taste, lifting his gaze to find the coy smile curving your lips. It seems he’s not the only one craving more exploration of each other’s bodies. Bucky reaches forward to bring his lips to yours, morning breath be damned. Neither of you cared anyway, quickly giving in to the flames of desire that spread like wildfire through your bodies.
It’s different now, when the morning sun reveals more truth in Bucky eyes, in the way he looks deep into your own as you climb the heights of passion together. Fingers entwined, breathless moans falling from his mouth, foreheads pressed together as he claims your lips, holding your body tightly as you fall apart around him as if this would all disappear if he let go. Every look, every touch; that was the difference. Bucky was giving every part of himself to you, opening up in a way he had never done before with anyone.
His hips stuttered as he climaxed, crying out with a groan that softened as your hands cupped his cheeks, stealing what little breath he had left as you brought your lips to his. He smiled against you, catching his breath in between soft kisses.
Bucky was quick to discard the condom and reclaim his spot beside you, opening his arms for you to cuddle close against him, keeping you warm as the aftershocks of pleasure shudder through your body. His hand rubbed circles on your back and the press of his lips on your forehead made you exhale through a content smile.
You stayed in his arms for as long as you could before desperately needing to use the bathroom, with Bucky laughing as you untangled your legs from his and the covers, sprinting naked off the bed. He laid back, arms folded under his head unable to contain his smile. This weekend has been greater than anything he could have ever dreamed of and the best is yet to come.
You scurry out of the bathroom towards your bag, throwing on a t-shirt for modesty before pulling out the clothes you would be changing into. Bucky watched as the sun streaming in through the window glowed around you, the angel that broke the confines of his heart.
There was less of a rush to the rest of the morning, having missed breakfast but still having time before you needed to check out. You checked your phone in between changing, seeing a flurry of messages come in from the group chat, plus Wanda and Steve sending separate ones to check in.
You heard Bucky get up from the bed but didn’t turn around because it still felt awkward. A good awkward as the butterflies in your stomach were still fluttering wildly, bit still whatever this was between you was undefined and you didn’t want to presume anything.
“Hey…” Bucky began slowly, and turning around you saw he was fully dressed except for his sneakers, hands in the pockets of his jeans with his shoulders shrugged up.
He looked like a little kid who thought he might be in trouble and it made you feel good to know you weren’t the only one who didn’t know how to act around each other. When you flashed him a smile Bucky relaxed, letting the tension go from his shoulders. He reached his hands out to take yours, holding both of them close to his heart.
Letting out a nervous breath he said, “Y/N, I want you to know that I meant what I said last night, every word.” Your smile slowly reached your eyes as he spoke. “And I never expected us to…” Bucky licked his lips, looking down as he felt his cheeks begin to flush at the memory of what happened. “It was incredible, you’re incredible, but maybe we could take things slow?”
Bucky raised his eyebrows, sincerity woven through an unease smile as he waited for an answer. But he didn’t have to wait long. You nodded quickly, never losing eye contact as you smiled, reassuring him you could take things at whatever pace he needed. Bucky kissed your knuckles before letting your hands go, surprised to feel them around him instantly in a hug that dissolved any lingering concerns he had about his request.
Any awkward tension had dissipated by the time you pulled away, leaving nothing but the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the sound of your stomach hangrily rumbling. Bucky chuckled, feeling his own about to rival yours in volume so he sifted through the bag from your initial CVS run to find something to eat.
You satisfied your hunger with a protein bar each, splitting some almonds and topping it off with sparkling water, that you still worried would explode upon opening by the way Bucky quickly pulled it from the small fridge. Eating as you packed, you made sure nothing was left in the room. Bucky packed your dress up with his suit again and when you were ready he arranged an Uber to the train station.
Walking hand in hand to the elevator, Bucky stole an innocent kiss, unable to help himself. He wanted to show you just how much he cared now that the truth he held back for so long was finally out there. His affectionate touches continued all the way home, as Bucky slung his arm over you during the ride back to Manhattan.
“Wanna go out for some lunch?” he asked, as you approached your apartment building.
You nodded approvingly, listing a slew of places you could go for since breakfast wasn’t actually filling. Bucky opened the front door for you, resuming the placement of his fingers laced with yours once you were both inside.
The air in the building felt different, as if the walls themselves were watching you, whispering about what might be happening between two of their residents. The elevator opened, taking you to your floor with a jerking gasp when you and Bucky kissed inside of it.
Your bags were dropped off in your respective apartments, taking the elevator back down just as quickly as you came up to go for lunch, which was actually going to be breakfast. Bucky suggested a spot a few blocks away you had been to once before, an unassuming deli with an all day breakfast menu, though you hadn’t had the pleasure of trying their well known breakfast fare. You were looking forward to stuffing yourself sweet French toast and sugary syrup, hoping to spend the rest of the day lounging in Bucky’s arms.
“Bucky! Hey!” A woman's voice pulled you away from your lazy Sunday daydream.
You both turned around at the woman who just jogged past you, stopping to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you.”
She was taller than average, showing off lean legs of unblemished light brown skin in the athletic shorts she wore. A large sweat stain soaked through the front of her grey tank top, her long dark hair a little messy but not really out of place.
“C-Claire?” Bucky stuttered, not expecting to run into her let alone remember her name. “Hey…”
“Sorry I didn’t get back to you. The hospital put me on night shifts the past week, it’s been hard to adjust. We still on for Saturday night?”
Sound was ringing in your ear like a bomb exploded in front of you and it had, in the form of Bucky being a lying scumbag. His snake like words charmed his way into your heart as a ploy to take off your pants and you complied with ease.
When the world was no longer a muffled haze you realized you and Bucky were alone again, with Claire probably continuing her work out; she has to look good for her date with Bucky at the end of the week. Maybe he was “taking it slow” with her too. You bit your lip before the quiver could show, feeling like an idiot for not knowing better. Bucky didn’t change and he never would.
“I’m so sorry about that. I never– ”
You were done with hearing any more of Bucky’s lies, retorting with one of your own.
“Shit! I just realized I was supposed to help Wanda finish unpacking today. She’s gonna kill me, I gotta run.”
You didn’t give Bucky the chance to speak, ignoring the way he pleaded for you to come back. Taking off towards the nearest subway, you ran down the stairs as fast as you could, at risk of tripping thanks to the tears that flooded your eyes. Wanda’s new place was much closer, and after a few quick stops you were in front of her door, sobbing heavily as you fell into her arms.
PART 21
819 notes · View notes
joonapeach · 4 years
Text
skylines (nj)
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college!au, where namjoon openly chases you and you love running from those advances. that is, until everyone in your architecture department finds out you’re the daughter of the man behind the biggest architecture firm in the country. 
alternatively... namjoon is a simp for you until he’s suddenly not 
author’s note: sometimes i just wanna write for the fun of it and not take life so seriously so this is what i churned out. 8.8k words of some minor pining and mini character development for our oc because tbh, being a student sucks and you get so caught up in your insecurity sometimes
also reposted on ao3
[this is fluff and light-hearted, with a bit of a rivalry trope, 8.8k words]
You love skylines.
From when you were six years old with short legs, you remember craning your neck up high to see each building that surrounded you. At that age, the world seemed big and you seemed small but you loved it. You loved seeing the world build and function around you. 
From then on outwards began your decades-long relationship with your first love - buildings. 
Well, you called it buildings and your father called it architecture. You were the daughter of his dreams, his proclaimed legacy. What luck I have, he would say, that I have a daughter who will grow up to work beside me.
Growing up, those comments were your food for the day. You would eat up his encouragements and cheers throughout high school, serving him back your high grades on a gold platter.
This is the way you’ve worked through your past nineteen years. It’s a little basic, maybe, but you’ve operated on your father’s ambition for you. 
But like all good things, even that seemed to come to an end. Since entering university and embarking on your path as an architecture major, the once comforting encouragement has slowly changed to a choking chain around you.
You’ve learnt a lot in two semesters at university. You’ve learnt how to finish assignments the night before, how to memorize historical names and dates minutes before an exam, you’ve learnt how fun it can be to be with your friends.
But most of all, you’ve learnt that… you’re not special. 
You’re surrounded by overachievers, all like you, all perhaps better than you in some way. You’re the daughter of the man behind HN Architects, but some of your classmates look like they’re on their way to the top of the chain.
You always thought you deserved your seat, your privilege, because you’d worked for it. These days, it doesn’t seem much like that. And you worry that your father is thinking the very same thing.
Let’s finish this assignment, you sigh, there’s not much left. Let’s do it, you give yourself a pep talk, fighting back a yawn at the practically empty library before dawn.
Books crash down on your table, right beside you. You shake, being pulled so abruptly out of your reverie. Although maybe you should be thankful, for the sleep that was threatening your productivity seems to have run away from the sound. 
“Excuse me,” you scoff loudly, making your presence known to the disturbance.
From above the tower of books on the desk, peeks out a familiar dimpled smile. His eyes glint with mischief and despite the early hours of the day, his face reads no exhaustion.
“You’re excused.” 
You groan. “There’s an entire empty library, you can only sit here?”
“Studying is more fun with company,” he retorts with a grin.
“It’s studying. It’s not meant to be fun,” you reply, hostile. “Didn’t I tell you to stop showing up in front of me with no purpose?’
He smiles again, confidently with his eyes unmoving from you. It’s almost unnerving, how much you see Namjoon smile in front of you. Architecture students are not meant to be this happy. They aren’t meant to carry a warm smile everywhere they go, looking at people with such attentive intensity.
“I haven’t shown up without a purpose though,” he says. “I came to ask for help with the assignment.” 
This time, you smile. But your smile is one of disbelief and amusement.
“Yes, that’s very believable, Namjoon,” you cock a brow. “You’re the one finishing assignments a week early and screwing up the curve for everyone but I’m sure I could help you with whatever you need.”
He grins, taking a seat next to you. “Hey, sometimes even I need help,” he replies but then pauses. “Ah, you’re right. I should’ve gone with coming to offer you help. That’s a lot more believable.”
“I don’t need your help,” you argue. “Stop showing up in front of me. And stop subtly flexing in front of me. It’s nauseating.”
He throws his head back and laughs. He looks so happy that it almost stirs a scary, fluttering feeling in your stomach. “You should be the last person to feel jealous of me, _____.”
You glare at him. “Yeah, because I’m the one who threatens your ranking?”
He shakes his head. “No, because I would help you with everything if you just asked.”
You still, for a moment. His words lull over in your head and they feel a bit weird. Your major is competitive and cut-throat, even if it doesn’t appear it. To you, Namjoon is your biggest rival, your biggest worry because you can never match up to him.
“Well, I’m not asking you for a thing. Is there really nothing you stress over?”
“No, there is. I just don’t cry over my textbook the nights before exams.”
“That was one time,” you mumble, infuriated. “And I had every right to be crying that night. It was the hardest exam that term and I have big shoes to fill. I can’t afford to be bothering people, like you,” you say with an intentional offense.
He takes none. “Big shoes? Who’s putting expectations on you?”
“Just some family. Stop being nosy,” you say swiftly. “And you didn’t even tell me. What do you stress over?”
He pauses, not giving a response for a moment. You wonder if it’s because there’s really nothing he stresses over. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. While you and your friends have all cracked under the pressure of your degree, you especially with the added burden of your father… Namjoon has not once shown signs of struggle. He walks through life with that smile every day.
“Finding work,” he says after a while.
“Huh?”
He meets your eyes. “You asked me what I worry about. I worry about finding work when I graduate,” he says sincerely.
You bite back a rude laugh. “Please, Namjoon. Get real,” you roll your eyes. “You really think you can worry about that? You were the top of our class all last year.”
You don’t do a good job of hiding your envy, but it’s beyond you to care at this point. You’ve become this person now. The one who seeks everything out of their number on the paper.
“But I don’t have any connections. I come from a village, practically, as you like to call it,” he says with a chuckle. It stings you a little, he’s referring to the time you and your friends had put him down out of jealousy with those words. But he doesn’t say it like it bothers him. He says it like it’s true. 
“So?” you say, looking away from him and back on your sheet. “You don’t always need connections.”
“Not always, but a lot of the time,” he shrugs.
“Any company who takes a look at your record and speaks to you for five minutes would want you, Namjoon,” you exhale, knowing your words are 100% true. You think about your father, about HN Architects. Namjoon’s the kind of guy who your father wouldn’t think twice about hiring. He’s the epitome of someone who could fill any shoes you gave him.
You scoff bitterly. “Wait a second. Why am I comforting you right now? You’re a success story in the making,” you snap and he laughs, even though you didn’t intend it to be a joke. “You should be comforting me, you idiot. I don’t even know if I’ll have Mr. Labadee’s assignment done in time for submission!”
He puts his hands up. “Okay, okay, don’t worry. Why do you think I’m here?” he looks away, still smiling as he takes the pencil from your hand and moves closer to the sheet.
“What?” you say, watching the way his eyebrows furrow and his eyes scan the paper. He’s losing himself in the sheet now, and it feels like watching a prodigy at work. You picture this is what it would feel like to watch Bill Gates code on a computer before he formally started his career or watching The Beatles pen a song before they made it big. 
“Hm?”
“Did you come here for me?” you ask and for a split second, you see his eyes shift. “Did Chae tell you I was here?”
He doesn’t respond, instead focusing on the assignment. “Your calculation is wrong here. Look,” he says, pointing at a section. As he explains your mistake, you smile satisfied. 
He doesn’t need to admit it. You two have gone through this very situation so many times now, that you both know it’s true. Namjoon always comes for you.
/
You have kept your background, your family, extremely private since joining university.
In high school, you made the mistake of letting people know that you were the daughter of HN Architects. It resulted in years of people smooching up to you, gossiping behind your back, mean assumptions, and just a general nightmare.
That nightmare would only multiply if your friends here found out about it. They were all architect majors, all in the same cut-throat degree, and you came from privilege. 
It scared you, knowing what could happen if they ever found out. You begged your family to make sure that nothing would tie you to them here, keeping your name different on the registrar, not publishing photos of you in the paper. You couldn’t risk all the friends and relationships you made. Even if they said things won’t change, you know they would. They always do.
“I need to sleep for 10 years,” you mumble, falling on your bed. 
“Fuck this, I wish I was you right now,” Chae cries from her side of the room. “I’ve got one more submission.”
“I woke up at 4 to finish it so you should be fine,” you laugh, looking at her. “And did you send Namjoon to me?”
Chae fights a smile on her face. You sigh, knowing you’ve opened Pandora's box.
“He came to me asking about you last night. I told him you were sleeping, but you’d be at the library at 5 working on the assignment,” she smirks cheekily. “Why, did he come?” she asks, not hiding the overly inquisitive edge to her question.
You say nothing, deciding to turn on your laptop.
“He did!” she screams and your eyes widen, telling her to be quiet. “Sorry! I just can’t help it. That’s so sweet,” she squeals.
“Stop sending him after me. You’re encouraging him.”
“You’re encouraging him!” she counters. “You let him help you with your assignment, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but-”
“And you showed up at his dorm last week for notes, didn’t you?”
“Okay, but-”
“And you told him off for helping Eun like four days ago, remember?”
“Chae,” you stop her, sternly. “Have you lost your mind? Don’t you realize what all those things have in common?”
“They all are evidence of the fact that you reciprocate his year-long courtship?”
You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. All these things are work-related. I can’t afford to be falling behind, and I need his help.”
“Okay, but you were jealous of Eun-”
“I was annoyed that he was helping other people score higher! The last thing I need right now is the lazy kids of the class becoming my competition too,” you complain, grumbling.
Chae stares you down. “_____, not everything is about your degree,” she says light-heartedly, but you know your statement bothers her. 
Exhaling, you shut your eyes. You hate it when conversations come to this. Sometimes, you wish you could just tell people which family you came from. Maybe it would do them good, to make them realize that yes, for you, everything is about your degree. Everything in your life revolves around being successful in this path. 
You were cynical but at least you were real. You admitted things the way they were, when competition was competition, you said it, and when you needed something, you asked for it. That made it okay, you told yourself.
And when it comes to Namjoon… it’s especially okay. He’s both the only reason you’re hanging on okay in your degree, and the reason you feel insecure. You wonder how it can be that someone like him exists.
“Anyways, are you really gonna leave talking about Joon there?” Chae scoffs. “He’s liked you since we started. You really won’t do anything about it?”
“Namjoon is nothing but another classmate that stresses me out, Chae. I don’t see him that way. I just like his work ethic.”
Chae laughs. “You’re so skewed, honestly. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Why, are you planning on ratting me out to him again?”
“No, silly,” she laughs, although you both know it’s likely she’d do it again. “Let’s go to the Autumn fair tomorrow. After I submit.”
“The fair? You mean those three stalls they set up and call it an event?”
She frowns. “Don’t be mean. Hobi and the others have really been working hard on it this year. It’ll be nicer than the last, I promise.”
“As long as there are at least 10 booths this year.”
“You’re too mean for your own good, _____,” she says, tsk-ing. “One day, you’ll see what it’s like to be on the other end.”
/
Your overactive imagination always paints a skyline for you, where there’s an empty space. You can always picture different styles of buildings, standing together, making a city. 
It’s at times like those you realize that even if you wanted to give up, even if you tried to pursue something else, your heart will always come back to this. There is nothing more that belonged to you than this.
Even if it’d become difficult now, it didn’t matter. It became a source of worry more than an outlet of passion, but it’s still your calling. You can’t give up on something you love this much.
“Your toffee apple is dripping,” you hear his voice before you see him.
You want to turn and snap at him but the sticky toffee syrup that falls onto your fingers stops you.
“Ugh,” you groan, trying to fix it. Namjoon’s hand comes out with a tissue, quickly wiping your fingers without a word. Even after he’s done, the sticky feeling remains. “I should just throw this away.”
He laughs. “Let’s get candy corn.”
“No, thanks, I have to go find Chae and Yuna.”
Even though you step away, you hear his footsteps almost immediately behind you. 
“What’s the rush?” he says, catching up beside you. When you two walk together like this, his tall figure towers over in a way that makes you feel small. “Shouldn’t you offer to buy me candy corn? Did you forget how I helped you at 5 in the morning two days ago for Professor Labadee’s class?”
“You chose to wake up at that time, not me,” you say, keeping your eyes trained ahead. You weren’t expecting much from this fair, but the students had done well. Bright fairy lights decorate the lamp posts around you and along the long path, dozens of stalls are set up. It all feels a little bit like a movie.
“As long as you got it done,” he says under his breath. You dare to take a glimpse of him and inhale sharply. He’s wearing his smile, he always is, but the fairy lights reflect on his face, illuminating him like an angel. Everything about him feels good.
You look away almost immediately. “Stop following me Namjoon,” you say, stopping at a trinkets stall and smiling at the girl behind the table.
“But I like seeing you outside of architecture things,” he grins confidently.
You opt to ignore him, asking the price of something that catches your eye.
He cranes his neck to see what it is. “Want me to get it for you?”
You quickly counter. “Absolutely not,” you say, handing over your money notes. 
“You’re really buying an ornament of buildings?” he cocks a brow. “Don’t you want something like this instead?” he picks up a small snow globe, shaking it so the snow moves. The globe is miniscule to begin with, but you notice how in his hands, it looks almost tiny.
“What can I say? I like buildings.”
He smiles. “More than people, maybe.”
You sigh, ignoring his statement. Once you get the paper bag with your purchase inside, you keep walking ahead. You count to three before you hear his footsteps mimic yours.
“I’ll buy you candy corn, then you leave me alone,” you turn to say to him. “It’s not good that you’re always showing up where I am.”
He nods like an obedient puppy. Then he frowns and asks, “why is it not good?”
When you don’t respond, focusing on walking to the candy booth, he adds, “is it not good for you? Getting attached to me now?”
You don’t have to see his face to know he’s doing his goofy smile again. “It’s not good for you to keep going through these many rejections in a lifetime.”
He laughs, your words not bothering him the slightest. Standing in front of the candy booth, Jungkook and Jae, two of your architect classmates greet you.
“Hey Joon! Aw, you two hanging out again?” Jae smiles widely as if he’s in some big secret. You roll your eyes, not saying a word but pointing to the candy corn.
“_____ is treating me to candy corn. Isn’t she sweet?”
“I’m not treating you out of kindness, I’m doing it so you feel compensated for your efforts with my assignment.” 
Jungkook and Jae share an amused look that you almost miss. Shuffling through your pocket, you start counting the money to give. As you hand over the money to Jae, Jungkook places a brown paper bag in Namjoon’s hands.
“You two enjoy yourselves,” Jungkook beams brightly.
You scoff. “Is there really such a thing as enjoyment when I have him on my tail?” 
Without bidding them a proper goodbye, you walk away from the stall, leaving the three standing. Like clockwork, Namjoon is beside you again.
“Here,” he says, and suddenly the bag of candy corn is in your hands.
You raise a brow. “What are you giving this to me for? You were the one who wanted it.”
“You were eating a sad, overpriced toffee apple. This should be for you too.”
“Namjoon.” You give him a look, but he pays no mind. 
Without saying anything more, you two walk together in silence. It didn’t intend to be this way, but it feels nice now. You feel good that you were dragged out of a cycle of the bedroom to the classroom to the library for once.
Of course, it’s weird that amidst all this, Namjoon is the one beside you. Usually, when you see him, your mind wanders to the place that curses him for being everything you wish you were. But tonight, you’re laying off those thoughts.
Staring at the crowd around the speakers, you two pause for a bit. You see Chae and Yuna, along with your other coursemates all together.
Still beside you, Namjoon speaks out of the blue. “Why don’t you call me Joon?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t realize I was required to,” you shrug at the random question. “I don’t know you like that.”
“Everyone in our class calls me Joon. Even your group member who I met that one time is calling me Joon,” he argues. “You know me better than all those people. If anything, you should be the only one.”
“What are you on about? I don’t know you at all,” you throw a blank look his way. “And don’t argue that we spend a lot of time together. You follow me around and show up where I am. That’s not spending time together.”
“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?” 
“It’s a first. Don’t get used to it.”
He laughs as if your cold remarks are something affectionate. “I don’t think I really could get used to seeing you outside the library, _____. You’re there more than me and I’m always studying too.”  
You scoff cynically. “Are you flexing your rank again on me?”
“_____, if I cared so much about my rank, I wouldn’t be helping you with work all the time,” he laughs, amused.
“I don’t know. Maybe helping me is all part of your plan to keep beating me,” you say. “Isn’t this just a power move? You always showing up to help me.”
He laughs again before his stare stills on you. His eyes are bright and sparkling… or is it just the effect of the stupid fairy lights? You can hardly tell.
Despite yourself, it all makes your stomach drop. You hate it when Namjoon shows up unannounced in your life, but more than that, you hate it when he gives you this kind of look. Like he can’t look anywhere else but at you.
“More than a power move, it’s just a gesture for you.”
The fluttering feeling worsens and you blink. You choose to say nothing, instead staring ahead at the view. “That is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.”
For a second, he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Eventually, he humors you. “It’s not all that bad.”
“In my professional opinion as a future architect, that is the exact type of building I would want to bulldoze.”
“Well, in my professional opinion as another future architect, I’d say your standards are far too high.”
“I’m allowed to keep my standards high. It’s me,” you smile with a glint in your eye.
He laughs, staring at you softly. “That I can agree with.”
You taunt him playfully. “You’re so predictable. Does it not get tiring hanging off my every word?”
He shakes his head loyally. “Absolutely not. I think everything you say is valuable and worth hanging off.”
“How lame,” you joke although you two share a smile. It’s true, he is a little predictable. But it’s Namjoon’s predictability that at times, catches you off guard. It’s fun, knowing that he’s two steps behind you wherever you are.
A warm feeling stirs in your body and you wonder if it’s the autumn air. Glancing up at Namjoon, the same air ruffles his hair endearingly and you tear yourself away from staring at it.
“I’m only gonna say it once so if there’s any word of mine you wanna hang off, it’s this,” you say before shoving the bag of candy corn back into his hands. “Power move or not, thanks for helping me. I really need it sometimes and I appreciate it.”
The grin on his face widens. “One more time, I didn’t hang off it enough!”
“I told you, only one time.”
“But the music was so loud, I couldn’t hear you well.”
“Too bad.”
“Come on, _____, take pity on me.”
“Shut up and eat your candy corn.”
/
You find yourself quickly back in your routine after the Autumn fair, working on new assignments and projects till your worst nightmare comes to life unexpectedly.
“Please be on time, _____!” Chae repeats to you for the fifth time that morning.
“Chae, I’ll be there. I’ll literally run from the design building to the auditorium, okay?”
She clicks her tongue at you. “Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by showing up. You should be excited.”
“I am. But… I mean, do we really need this kind of random assembly for our architecture department?” you groan, slipping your laptop into its case. “Can’t they just give us the extra time to work on our homework?”
“But there’ll be companies there!” she retorts, wide-eyed and excited. “Just imagine. This is like those movies, where they come and scout students and then bam, life is sorted.”
You nod, forcing a smile. You remember your privilege, knowing your worry has never once been finding work but living up to the work that was set out for you. But you could never explain that here. How could you cry about the burden that kept you so troubled when it was a burden any one of your friends would happily want?
“Okay. I’ll see you there,” you settle for a wave, walking out to leave. You rush with your bag on your back to your classroom, immersed in your lesson till the hour finishes up.
For the moments after class finishes, your mind is blank. You’re going over your homework in your head, packing your things and your eyes widen. The meeting. You almost forgot.
True to your words, you actually do end up running from the design building to the auditorium. Sprinting from your class to the auditorium proves to be a harder workout than you anticipated and your heart can’t stop racing.
Stepping inside the auditorium, you jump into the first empty seat you see at the entrance.
“Where is she?” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes shift around the room, looking for a familiar head of short black hair. Catching sight of Chae, you wave to her but she doesn’t notice you at all. Instead, she’s busy talking to a group of students all from your year.
Everyone’s sat together, cozy and comfortable in a conversation together. You can even see Namjoon in the row above Chae, chatting energetically. Your heart strangely pangs.
Sometimes, seeing everyone like this, everyone from your major and year together, made you feel more like an outsider than anything. At first, you’d chalked it up to be because of your obsession with studying and academics… but students better than you, students like Namjoon and Mina, all seemed to be doing fine. 
In the end, you realized it isn’t anything to do with that. You feel like an outsider because you are one. You’ve tried your hardest to blend in, but the fact remains that you feel alone in the problems you have. You’ve kept your identity as the daughter of HN Architects a secret, you’ve kept your family pressures a secret… Now you’re alone in the burden of your struggles.
Sometimes, you’ve thought about opening up. But the thought terrifies you even more.
If you felt so alone while keeping the truth of your ambitions a secret… there’d be no telling what kind of way your friends would treat you after finding out.
“We’re lucky enough to have… here’s a representative from Canvas Corp… looking for fresh talent… Yongchan Architecture…” you’re hardly paying attention to the speakers on stage till you finally hear, “and most fortunately, the chairman of HN Architects!”
Your head shoots up so fast that it almost flies off. No fucking way.
Your father is smiling on the stage, wearing a crisp suit and greeting the architecture department heads. Without realizing it, your body cowers back into your seat as you see his eyes scan the auditorium. He must be looking for you - his daughter.
His daughter that not a single soul in this room knew was you.
Your heart goes into panic mode before you try to calm yourself down. Relax, you mutter repeatedly to yourself although it’s less effective than you thought it’d be.
Your eyes dance between your father on stage and your group of friends with Chae sitting seats away from you. Neither of them have noticed you.
Instead, your classmates are all watching your father with starstruck eyes. They’re staring at your father like he’s their idol.
Well, objectively, maybe he could be. After all, you admire your father for the very same reason every architecture student does - your father is a legend. His company has one of the best reputations in the country, which feeds your pride, and he’s nothing short of a hard-working, inspiring man.
Namjoon, in particular, is staring at your father like he can’t believe his eyes. It’s a look you’ve never seen from him before. Like he’s both nervous and thinks he’s in a dream. It’s almost endearing.
“To celebrate having the chairman of HN Architects with us today, we’ll have him say a few words!” Mr. Lim, the head of the architecture department, announces enthusiastically into the mic. He turns to your father, “do you mind?”
“Not at all!” your father grins, taking the mic before starting. “It’s my pleasure to be here today! In fact, seeing all of you reminds me of my own days as an architecture student…”
He trails off into a long speech, excitedly. You’ve been witness to every single one of your father’s inspirational speeches since the day you were born so you fight back a yawn. On the contrary, your classmates look like they’re hanging onto every single word.
As your father paces across the stage, he inches towards your side. You blink in panic, bending down but before you know it, it’s too late. His eyes sparkle with joy.
You almost worry he’s gonna wave at you mid-speech. But he doesn’t, simply shooting an overly friendly smile your way. You sneak a glance at your classmates and they’re all giving you a strange look - one that most definitely reads what the heck is he smiling at you for?
Meeting Chae’s eyes in particular, you give an awkward smile and shrug. Soon enough, your father turns to the side and you finally think you can breathe.
“That’s why I’d like to encourage you all to live up to your potential! The world is changing around you as you know it and as future architects, you can be a part of that,” your father enthusiastically continues. His eyes are on you again. “And this is what I tell my beautiful daughter everyday! She loves skylines, my dear _____, and she’s going to be a wonderful architect too!”
My life is officially over.
A little dramatic but that exact thought crosses your mind as you duck into your seat. You think you hear the collective gasp around the auditorium or maybe your ears are playing tricks on you.
No, it’s probably as bad you think it is. Your father’s called you out by name and exposed your identity that you worked so hard to conceal. Your life is quite literally over.
Oblivious to your misery, your father grins happily on stage. He returns the mic to Mr. Lim before stepping to the side. The rest of the assembly goes by without you realizing. You’re still numb to the fact of what just happened.
You risk a glance at your classmates, and in cliche movie fashion, they’re all staring at you with mouths gaping wide open. Every single one of them.
Your neck heats up and you quickly turn around. But curiosity gets the best of you a few minutes later, and you risk looking again.
They’re still staring at you in shock. Like they can’t believe their eyes.
Chae especially is looking at you with hurt flashing across her face. It squeezes at your heart and you feel overcome with guilt for lying to your friend for a year. You don’t dare to imagine what she’s thinking now.
Without realizing, your eyes travel over to Namjoon. Much to your surprise, he’s not looking at you. He’s the only one with his eyes looking ahead blankly, deep in thought.
You frown, evading everyone’s stares to focus on him. An unrecognizable emotion is written all over his face… is it realization? Regret? Embarrassment?
You can hardly tell. But for the first time, an uncomfortable feeling plunges in your stomach at the fact that Namjoon’s not looking at you.
/
“Dad!” you cry. “How could you do that?”
Your father smiles happily at the sight of you, the two of you standing outside the auditorium in a secluded, private spot. The torture, that was the assembly, has finally come to an end.
“What do you mean?” he answers in confusion. “Do you mean showing up here? Because I was invited by that Mr. Lim fellow, he-”
“Not that!” you whine, groaning into your palms. “I’m talking about saying I’m your daughter in front of the whole architecture department!”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, that? What did I do wrong?”
Your jaw drops. “Dad, are you being serious?”
He nods, clear puzzlement on his face.
“Don’t you remember? I specifically asked for you and Mom to make sure that it never gets out!” you say. “Now, you’ve told everyone I go to college with that I’m the daughter of the man behind HN Architects!”
He blinks for a few seconds. “Is that so wrong?” he almost pouts like a child. “I didn’t know it was such a problem.”
“Of course, it is! Why do you think I asked you not to tell anyone?”
“...I thought you were being modest.”
“Modest?!” you exclaim, before sighing. There’s no use berating your father. It’s no one’s fault but your own for not preparing better for this situation.
“Did you really not want anyone to find out?”
You nod weakly.
“Why not?”
“I… I can’t explain it. They’ll freak out,” you look down. You can’t imagine how much worse your stress is gonna get from now on - it isn’t enough that your own title of the daughter of HN Architects is choking you to death… now you’ll have to deal with every single one of your classmates doing the same thing.
Things will never be the same again. For every grade you get, it’ll be discussed as the grade of the HN Architects’ daughter. For every drawing or idea you’ll submit, it’ll be scrutinized as the work of a girl from privilege. The pressure would multiply infinitely. 
“Oh dear, don’t be silly,” your father suddenly says, resting his hand on your head. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize it was so serious to you. But even if they know, it’s not an issue. You’re an excellent student and it’s only right they pay you the respect as the future CEO of HN Architects.”
You shoot your father a smile but your stomach drops. “I guess so, thanks,” you mumble, unable to explain to him that it’s exactly what he said that terrifies you. 
For the rest of the day, you hide out off-campus in hopes to avoid facing reality.
/
“_____, I think you need to pay for the emotional shock you gave us,” Hobi laughs at the lunch table as soon as you arrive.
Hesitantly, you sit beside Chae who doesn’t share a word with you. Since yesterday, you haven’t even made eye contact with her, despite being her roommate. 
“I think I almost spat out my water when I heard my daughter,” Mina jokes and the table echoes in laughter. You smile awkwardly.
“Yeah… it’s not really a big deal,” you shrug.
“Not a big deal?! Hello! We’re talking to the next HN Architects CEO right now!” another student pipes up.
“_____, forgive me for all I did wrong last semester,” Yuri playfully adds.
“I think we need to be cleaning the floor for her to walk on!”
These statements all fly around the table, exchanged with laughs and smiles. Part of you cowers in the attention, uncomfortable by such blatant recognition of your upbringing.
Another part of you wonders… will things be okay?
You take a careful look around the table of your classmates. Not a single one seems to wear a glare, all sharing in jokes and smiles. For the strangest reason… you feel at ease.
Chae suddenly stands up, with her tray. “I’m done eating. I’ll see you guys later.”
Instantly, you mimic her and chase behind her retreating figure. “Wait Chae-”
“I have class right now-”
Like a child, you jump in front of her to block her path. “Okay, please just hear me out,” you say, pouting. “I’m sorry.”
She sighs. “What are you sorry for? It’s not a big deal.”
“You must feel… annoyed, right?”
Chae blinks at you. “I’ll admit, I was irritated at first. You come from such privilege and I’ve unloaded so much crap on you sometimes about being scared about post-college life while you never had that… but, I’m not really mad about that. You can’t help who you are, right?”
You nod. “You’re still mad at me though, aren’t you? For hiding it?”
She takes a second before replying, “I just… you’re so unreachable sometimes, _____. After I found out, I kind of realized why you’re so stressed all the time and what you meant whenever you alluded to things about your pressures and all… I’m just annoyed you never shared that part of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time since yesterday, Chae cracks a smile. “Don’t be sorry. I just want you to be more open with me. You don’t need to feel like you need to hide your background… I would’ve tried to understand either way.”
Her words soothe you more than you can explain. Since entering your major, you haven’t once relied on the people around you for support that wasn’t academic. Now, you’re realizing your fatal flaw.
“I’ll try to be better,” you say with a nod. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”
She laughs. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about me,” she says with a glance elsewhere. “You should check up on him. He’s been spooked since yesterday.”
You turn on your heel to see Namjoon, walking around with the same strange expression on his face from the assembly. For a brief second, your eyes meet but the second flashes, and he quickly looks away.
“Did you see that?!” you scoff. “He just ignored me!”
Chae smiles. “Wow, there really is a first for everything.”
“What’s with him?” you say, watching his awkward walk in your opposite direction. He keeps glancing in your direction, but once he sees you staring at him, he swiftly looks away. It’s a completely new side to him. 
“I don’t know,” Chae shrugs. “He’s being weird. I thought he’d be running after you like always, but he’s resorted to this.”
You scoff again, unfamiliar with this Namjoon who runs away from you, rather than to you. You wonder what’s running through his mind, before pushing the thought away. He’s bound to come after you again after a few days.
/
The confidence with which you assumed Namjoon would be all over you again is faltering.
It’s been a full week since the assembly, and while life has seemingly gone back to normal for you (as normal as things can be)... Namjoon certainly has not.
In classes, he picks the furthest seat away on purpose. You even started to tease him by trying to sit in his front row with him, but instead, you found him in the back row - where he can’t even see. 
His lunches seem to be perfectly timed to not clash with yours. All of a sudden, he’s no longer in the library either. All the places you’d easily find Namjoon hovering over you, he’s disappeared from.
“Does he think this is effective?!” you rant to Chae in your dorm room. “That by suddenly ignoring me, I’ll become obsessed with him?!”
Chae smiles at you knowingly. “I don’t know… if that was his plan to begin with, I’d say it’s pretty effective-”
“Shut up, Chae! I’m just saying this is all so stupid!” you scoff. “Once or twice is fine but he’s actively avoiding me! He saw me in the library yesterday and acted like he forgot a book to leave! We were in the library for god’s sake! What book did he forget that he couldn’t find there?!”
Chae giggles like the situation is laugh-worthy. “Maybe he’s just busy.”
“He made time during final exams last year to bother me. How much busier could he be than he was then?”
“Or maybe he doesn’t want to distract you.”
“It’s not that for sure. Whenever I’d tell him that he’s distracting me before, he wouldn’t care,” you mumble under your breath annoyedly. Chae continues to grin at your behavior, as if your reaction were amusing.
You don’t say it to her but you know very well why you’re annoyed beyond relief. It’s because you know it’s to do with finding out about HN Architects.
You groan. You expected your classmates to be weird around you, maybe even your professors… but Namjoon was the last person you thought would suddenly make a 180 after learning about your family.
That’s why it’s aggravating. Because it’s the one thing you didn’t think he’d care about.
A part of you fears he’s realized just how pathetic you are. After all, Namjoon probably knows how much more promising he is compared to you and now… he had to sit with the fact that you were the daughter of HN Architects.
“Why don’t you just approach him yourself?”
You’re momentarily stunned by Chae’s suggestion. You shoot her a dirty glare.
“What?!”
“I’m not gonna chase after Namjoon! He should approach me himself!”
Chae looks at you like you’re crazy. “You’re the one who wants him to talk to you!”
“Exactly! He should come to me like he always does.”
A laugh escapes Chae’s lips. “Oh, _____… you don’t even realize it, do you?”
You cock a brow before shaking your head. “I don’t have time for your indirect dialogue. I’m just saying that if Namjoon doesn’t come to me and talk this out soon, I’m gonna have to do something very crazy.”
Chae’s eyes flicker with amusement. “Oh? And what’s that?”
You grimace, as if even saying it brings you humiliation. “I’m gonna go talk to him first.”
Chae bursts out laughing, despite your solemn expression. You brush her off, spending the rest of the night on your design homework but secretly planning on wringing Namjoon’s throat if he doesn’t go back to normal soon.
/
By now, you’re sure Namjoon can feel the daggers you’re shooting into his back.
He’s even risked turning back a few times, to see who’s glaring at him. But as soon as your eyes meet, his head spins around as if it were all in your head. He focuses on the professor teaching ahead of him, taking notes diligently.
Beside you, Chae says with a nudge, “so are you gonna do that very crazy thing you were planning?”
You ignore her for the sake of gritting your teeth. Usually, you have no trouble focusing in classes. It’s all because of this wretched situation that you’re so off-game.
As soon as the professor wraps up his powerpoint, you’re faster than anyone else in the class at packing up your things and zooming out the door. You don’t even bid Chae goodbye.
You tap your foot impatiently, staring directly at your target. 
Namjoon… try and ignore me now.
Hooking his bag over his shoulder, Namjoon comes to the door of the classroom before stopping his tracks. Aha, you smile pleased.
“Ah, I just forgot… to talk about my assignment with Mr. Choi,” he mutters out loud to no one in particular. The acting is so terrible that you don’t even have to think about it to know he’s intending it for you to hear.
You march up to him. “No, you don’t,” you scoff and when he looks up at the ceiling, you jump like an infant calling for attention. “Namjoon, if you value your life, you’re gonna drop this act right now,” you say in a menacing voice. 
Immediately, he gulps and looks down at you. His height towers over yours but you smile, knowing you’ve gained the upper hand here. He’s looking at you just as he did before - completely enamoured.
You say nothing but give a deadly gesture to follow you. He obeys without complaint.
When you two are finally in a spot you deem private enough, you raise your chin and look at him happily. Under your gaze, he looks down uncomfortably.
“So you want me to say it or will you explain what the hell is going on?”
He blinks. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, _____.”
Your blood boils. Now, he wants to feign ignorance. “You’re joking,” you deadpan.
He looks at you innocently and shakes his head. You sigh, blinking in confusion.
This whole situation is a first. True to your words, you’ve never actually… had to do anything more than bat an eye to know Namjoon would come to you. You don’t know the words to even ask what’s wrong.
“_____,” he says in a low voice. You glance up at him, completely losing your train of thought. The sight of him has never registered you disorientated before. But now, you can’t help but trace your eyes over his dimples and sparkling eyes.
You scoff at yourself. You must’ve lost your mind temporarily. “You know what I’m talking about!”
He shakes his head so you continue, “you used to always come to the library at my timings and sit on my lunch table.”
“Oh,” he nods. “That’s because I wanted to sleep in more so I changed my schedule around a bit.”
You blink at his explanation. “You sat at the back of the class when I came to the front row-”
“I just wanted to see what it’s like to sit there. Turns out, it sucks,” he pauses when you don’t reply. “_____?”
You frown, part confused and part innocently. “I just mean… why aren’t you following me anymore?”
The words are out of your mouth before you can help it and your eyes widen in humiliation. That isn’t the way you wanted to ask the question.
Namjoon, instead, is amused. He smirks ever so slightly, before cocking his brow and asking, “Are you asking me why I don’t chase you around anymore?”
His newfound confidence almost makes you lose your footing. This is Namjoon - the nerdy guy who’d come to you. He can’t have this effect on you.
You scoff, faking an assured smile. “Are you denying that you chased me around?”
He blinks. “I mean-”
“Surely, you accept the fact that you did chase me around for a whole year,” you say with a smile playing on your lips. Of course, between the two of you, you both know very well of Namjoon’s infatuation with you. He’s danced around those feelings for both of your comedy’s sake… but this time, you won’t let that slide.
He looks at you, tongue poking in his cheek. “Fine. I do chase you around.”
You almost smile with victory but you stop yourself. Before you can speak, he continues.
“But I won’t anymore. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me,” he says sincerely, seemingly ready on his toes to walk away. Your fingers wrap around his wrist without realizing.
“Wait!” you frown displeased. He’s glancing down at where your touch meets his hand and you instantly let go. “This makes no sense.”
He blinks, confused. “What do you… isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”
“You can’t just change your mind like that!” you argue, a strange desperation cutting into your voice. “You can’t make people get used to you and do that!”
Much to your surprise, he wears a small smile. “I didn’t think it’d bother you so much.”
“I can’t stand you,” you groan. “You chase me around, then you find out one tiny fact about my family and now, you think you’re so much better than me to come after me!” you yell, your heart hammering against your chest. You sound like a child, you know as much but… suddenly around him, all logic’s been thrown out your brain.
“_____,” he says in a breath, a glint in his eye that reads surprise and amusement. His dimples are poking out and you wonder what it’d be like to affectionately poke into one. “Do you… did you like when I would come to you?”
There’s no self-preserving answer to this, one that can save both your dignity and pride. You know what you should say to his question, but nerves are prickling under your skin.
It isn’t the nerves you feel before submitting a drawing or entering an exam, but a whole new uncharted territory of nerves. Everything about this conversation is uncharted territory.
“_____, do you…” he starts a question, before nervously brushing the nape of his neck. He looks shy to even ask but after a moment, he looks at you like a child with candy and says, “do you like me?”
Your heart’s in your stomach. Immediately, you laugh, “no! No! Why would I?! Are you crazy?! Why would I ever like-”
“I don’t know,” he blinks innocently, but the stare he holds on you seems suddenly intimate. “That’s what I’m thinking. Why would you ever care about why I stopped chasing after you, if you don’t like me?”
His cocky grin annoys you. You shoot him a deathly look. “Don’t get too confident with me, Joon,” you say although you’re fumbling with words. “I still remember when you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”
He takes a step closer, holding your stare with no qualms. Your heart speeds up again, like you’ve been running.
“_____,” he says softly with a victorious smile. “You like me, don’t you?”
“I’m not answering your stupid question. First, you explain to me why the hell you think you can treat me the way you have the last week-”
“Because I thought you didn’t like me back,” he answers smoothly. “You’re the daughter of HN Architects and I’ve been wasting your time all year long. I’ve always felt intimidated by you… but now, I realized I really wasn’t worth your time.”
You blink with a frown. “Namjoon-”
“I feel really embarrassed, _____… If I ever wanted to work at HN Architects, I wouldn’t even be able to show my face knowing the way I’ve bothered you-”
“You’ve never bothered me.”
“Huh?”
Your cheeks flush and you suddenly become very aware of the words that escaped your lips. You cast a hesitant glance at Namjoon and you can’t help it. Suddenly, everything feels a lot clearer.
“You know, you’re the kind of architect my father dreams about,” you find yourself saying. “You’re the kind of student someone like me should be. It all comes natural to you. I love buildings but everything I do, it’s just part of who you are… that’s why I acted like you bothered me.”
He’s at a loss for words before muttering, “_____…”
“All I ever think about is trying to fit the ideal I know I have to be and it all comes easy for you. You feel embarrassed in front of me…” you laugh with a scoff. “How do you think I feel, needing your help?”
“I never wanted to compete with you,” he says. “I just wanted to be by your side. I really wasn’t helping you for anything apart from looking for an excuse to be near you.”
There it is… the fluttering feeling.
The truth is, you’ve known all this time too. You’ve known that there was never any ulterior motive, just your cynical mind trying to conjure excuses.
You almost hate yourself at this moment. Your insecurity over your work has warped your thoughts so much that you convinced yourself that… that you feel nothing but annoyance for Namjoon.
“_____,” he starts. His hand hesitantly reaches up, stopping multiple times on its way before finally brushing your hair away from your forehead.
“I think it goes without saying but in my eyes, you’re the smartest person in our major and every time I’m with you, I don’t even care if you reject me or look for an excuse to go away,” he says. “You don’t even realize the way I see you.”
Your eyes sting and you’re not sure if it’s because his words move you or you’ve just forgotten to blink for a long while. “You’re so corny.”
He laughs. “Well, someone needs to tell you you’re doing a good job because I can tell you’re not telling yourself,” he says before sheepishly adding, “and I thought we were exchanging what we like about each other.”
“Who said I like you?”
He grins, ruffling your hair despite the scowl you give him. You say nothing but then give a smile. You didn’t expect today to feel so good… but somehow, that insecurity that plagues your mind at all hours of the day disappears for a while. 
All you can think about is wanting this feeling to last with him. Without warning, you reach to grab Namjoon’s wrist to walk out into the open garden of the campus. In front of your sight, there’s a skyline of buildings decorating the city.
“Do you still stand by your statement that that building is the ugliest?”
You grin. “It’s literally hideous, Joon. I can’t believe you’re the top of our class but think those colors look nice together.”
He gives a warm laugh, unable to disguise his happiness at the way you call him endearingly. Your eyes go back and forth between the skyline and Namjoon beside you before deciding that while buildings are your first true love… there’s something even more beautiful about the boy next to you.
hehe so excited to write on this blog if u read till the end jus know u have all my love
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sevlgi · 4 years
Text
dinner
requested: no
group: red velvet
pairing: joy x gn!reader
genre: fluff
contents: waitress!joy. [17/33]
warnings: none
synopsis: It’s way too difficult for Joy to watch you go on disaster dates, especially when she knows she could do so much better.
a/n: kdrama? no it’s just me
word count: 1.1k
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Your first date was really freaking pretty.
Sooyoung remembered the way your cheeks flushed when the girl first arrived, the way you couldn’t stop smiling when she didn’t turn out to be a catfish.
Of course, the smile on your face slipped after about 15 minutes.
The girl wasn’t a catfish, but she was a gold digger without a personality- the entire time, she basically tried to seduce you instead of talk with you, and Sooyoung could easily tell how uncomfortable you were the whole time.
“Check, please,” you sighed, waving a hand halfheartedly once the girl had stormed off. Sooyoung winced at the price, but you just signed and handed her the money without a second glance at it. “Could I get a whiskey or something to go?”
The waitress didn’t have the heart to tell you that the restaurant didn’t allow her to give you alcohol to go, so she just silently handed you a little cup of amber liquid. “Have a nice night... Y/N,” she greeted, reading the name off of your receipt.
“Thanks.”
The second date was just as disastrous. For whatever reason, you and the second girl just didn’t seem to click at all, despite your efforts to stir up some kind of conversation. She was like a wall, and you were a ball bouncing futilely off of it.
That time, you didn’t even bother to ask for the whiskey, barely mumbling a ‘thank you’ before leaving. Sooyoung could only stare at you sympathetically for a few minutes before moving to serve the next customer.
Somehow, she always managed to be the server when you arrived, every Monday and Thursday night at 7 with a different date, each as horrible as the one before. She watched you go on nearly a dozen dates, and to be honest, Sooyoung came up with some interesting and mostly factual observations about you.
First, you always put in copious amount of effort; no matter how difficult it was, you carried every conversation on your own, coming up with endless questions to try and stir something up.
Second, you weren’t easily discouraged. That much was evident at how many times you came back, and how hopeful you seemed at the beginning of every date. Sooyoung admired that- perseverance, however stupid it might be.
Third, you were kind. No matter how terrible each date went, you never took your frustration out on others. Some people wouldn’t tip as high as you always did when things went badly, but maybe that was just you being a decent person.
Last, you were gorgeous. That part was just Sooyoung’s personal preference, though.
But with everything summed up, she couldn’t possibly fathom how someone like you was still single, or how you were so unlucky in finding a match. You had barely spoken 3 words to her, but she was sure that just one date with you would have her head over heels in love.
The 11th date, though, was by far the worst. Your date, a pretty but extremely hot-tempered and disagreeable girl, left before the food was even delivered. “Your foo- oh. Um, is she...”
“Gone? Yeah.” You raked your hands through your hair frustratedly, grimacing at the 2 huge platters of pasta. “I have no idea how I’m going to finish all of this.”
Sooyoung frowned, too, still holding the serving tray in her hands. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can refund. What would you like me to do?”
Biting down on your lip, you tossed the napkin folded neatly on your plate aside. “I’ll try my best, I suppose. Could you bring me some takeout boxes? I’ll have food for a couple weeks.”
A jokester. Before she could stop herself, Sooyoung blurted, “I could... try and help you finish? You won’t have to pay for what I eat, of course, I just. There’s not many customers.”
It wasn’t a lie- the two of you were the only people in the entire restaurant, the two cooks in the kitchen quiet too. You stared up at her for just enough time for her cheeks to redden, but you cleared your throat and gestured vaguely at the chair opposite you. “Uh, yeah. Help yourself.”
She smiled before setting the food down, pulling the chair out and sitting. You were even more attractive up close, and you made it terribly hard to actually focus on the food. “Is there a reason you’ve gone on 11 dates?” she asked in an attempt to start a conversation.
You looked up, surprised, before nodding. “Right, you were here each time, weren’t you?”
At her nod, you shrugged, “I don’t really know. I guess I’m kind of bored with the way I’m living, you know?”
“Being alone is no fun,” Sooyoung agreed, twirling her fork. “Why this same restaurant, though? I didn’t think eating the same pasta 11 times would be very inviting...”
“Ah. That’s not really the reason. I met my last girlfriend here, actually,” you explained. “Maybe I’m just hoping I’ll get lucky again.”
The other girl smiled, “Maybe you will.”
Before she knew it, you were talking freely, conversation rushing so fast that her brain could hardly keep up. You’re funny, Sooyoung realized, in a kind of way that not many people would pick up on. Everything about you was a bit understated- you’re kind in subtle ways, witty rather than outright hilarious.
The pasta finished itself incredibly fast, and you stared at your plate in disbelief. “Wow. I don’t think any of the dates I went on in the past month lasted this long.”
“They definitely didn’t,” Sooyoung responded, laughing when you pressed a hand to your chest in mock-hurt. “Well, you can count this as a date in your records, if you want.
You sipped at the wine the waitress brought over. “After everything that happened, I didn’t think I’d ever want to go on a dinner date again. But this was fun. If we were to go on another date, though, let’s not occupy your work time.”
Despite the pink flush to her cheeks, Sooyoung continued to joke, “You might have enjoyed it, who said I did? I’m just kidding. You’re the best date I’ve been on in a while too.”
Checking your watch, you hesitated just a second before blurting out, “Then. Do you want to go somewhere, after your shift? We already ate, but I think we can find something else to do somewhere in the city.”
“Sure,” Sooyoung grinned, standing as well. “My shift is over, anyway.”
“Is it really?” you laughed, seeing right through her.
She assumed a serious expression, slinging her apron over the chair and grabbing her purse from the lockers. “Of course not. But I’ll risk it to be your 12th date.”
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sincerelynamkook · 4 years
Text
Hennessy (01)
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Latina Y/N x Jungkook
Genre: Angst, Fluff 
Warnings: alcohol/drunken behavior (drink responsibly friends), mentions of smoking, sexual tension 
Word Count: 2.6k
Playlist: “Yo Perreo Sola” by Bad Bunny // “Frikitona” by Plan B // “Te Extrano” by Xtreme // “Imitadora” by Romeo Santos”
Series Masterlist
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“You ready?” I roll my eyes with a pout instead of verbally answering my best friend’s question. I’m still lowkey butthurt she not only forced me to get up from my umpteenth day in bed, but also forced me to get dressed and put on makeup. I’m barely into my 30th day of getting over a breakup, I had plans to dive deep into the pits of my depression and despair for another month or two. 
“Stop being a brat and get over it. It’s not like you were in love with the guy.” Britt sasses back.
“Maybe so. But I really gave that fucker 6 months of my life thinking he would eventually be the one only for him to go out and cheat on me...let me be depressed, damn bro.” 
“Dude, c'mon. Tony said this would be the party of the year and you know how Latinos love to throw a party.” She grabs my hand and drags me up the driveway to the front door. I could hear the loud blast of Merengue music all the way from where we parked down the street. Serves us right for being 2 hours late to this damn party. But we were running on Latino time. 
“Bitch did you forget I’m Latina?” I ask her. Of course I know what Latin parties are like. 
“Really? You sure ain’t acting like the bad bitch Latina I know you are.” 
“I-...whatever.” I mumble, not having a retort. 
She giggles and opens the front door, coming fact to face with Jimin who has the brightest smile on his face. “Finally bitches! I’ve been waiting for y’all for over an hour.” 
Music, laughter, singing, mixed with conversations from every direction bombard my ears. Jimin drags Britt and me to the back of the house, bee-lining straight to the kitchen counter that's covered in alcoholic beverages. He goes around to stand next to Tony who’s behind the counter, dressed in an all black fit, gold chain around his neck, nose pierced with a stud and a septum, and small black rectangular framed glasses perched on his nose. 
“What, you on your Bad Bunny phase or something?” I ask him as Jimin hands me a cranberry vodka, knowing it’s my favorite drink. 
With a smile, he sticks his tongue out and places his pinky fingers near his glasses doing the iconic Bad Bunny pose, “You already know babyyyy,” he says garnering a laugh from me. “I made sure to stock up on cranberry and vodka for you babe. Britt warned me so we on that ‘Bring Y/N back to life’ gang shit tonight.”
“Oh god,” I grimace. When Britt and Tony get together on their “missions” there is no hope for us. “Well you got food around here? I ain’t getting shitfaced on an empty stomach.”
“This ain’t the first time at the rodeo, Y/N.” Hoseok says as he appears behind Tony with a platter of appetizers on a plate for me. “We take care of our favorite girls around here, Y/N, c'mon now, especially when you're my girlfriend’s best friend” he winks at Britt and she giggles. Gross. 
“My hero.” I respond sarcastically, inspecting the chips and guac. With a raise of a brow I ask, “This better be some legit guac boys, not that store bought kind y’all got that one time at Costco.”
“Omg get over it! I didn’t realize it was expired!” Jin yells from behind me. He gives Britt a kiss on the cheek before pinching my arm. I stick my tongue out before giving him a genuine smile. “I wasn’t even the one who bought it. It was Jimin!” 
Jimin giggles, “Well that’s what y’all get for sending me grocery shopping when I’m hungover.”
“I was sick for days! I almost died!” I yell back. Not gona lie, this guac is hella good. “Dude, who made this guac. It’s legit, I’ll give you that.”
“I asked my sister to make some for us. She also made some tamales for you and Britt, you know she loves y'all more than me.” Tony says as he pours me another drink. Tears start to well in my eyes, food being the only thing that weakens my tough exterior. 
“Tony...tell your sister to divorce Jackson and marry me. I’ll treat her better!” I exclaim making the group laugh. 
“Y’all lets move this party to the den.” Hoseok says, grabbing Britt’s hand and leading us to the next room, away from the bigger crowd. 
We each take our usual seats. Being a tight knit group since our college days, we have our traditions, one being movie night at Tony’s every weekend, thus leading us to have our own unofficial assigned seats. 
The music can still be heard from the den, albeit not as loud as it was in the main rooms. 
“So we getting Y/N shitfaced tonight right?” Jimin asks with a smirk in my direction. 
“Hell yeah. I can’t believe you skipped out on movie nights this whole month.” Jin responds with a shake of his head. “I thought we were family.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “Whatever. Y’all know how I get when I’m in my moods.”
Hoseok stands and comes around the couch to hug me from behind. “I know you’re not a hugger but accept this quick hug and let go of your sadness friend.”
 I giggle and hold back my witty remark, knowing his heart is in the right place. “Thanks Hobi. Give me a few more drinks and I’ll be begging for your hugs.”
He jumps at that and runs to the kitchen yelling, “You don’t have to tell me twice!!” Brittany gets up and follows him, muttering something about going to make sure he doesn’t get dragged into dancing. 
“But in all seriousness, Y/N, are you okay?” Jin asks next to me. 
“Not gona lie, I’m hurt because y’all know how I feel about cheating. But it is what it is right?” I exhale and gulp down my third cup of cranberry vodka. 
“You’ll be okay babe, c'mon lets go get more drinks.” Jimin takes my hands and drags me out the den, just as Yoongi and Joonie were walking into the den. 
“Hey fuckers. I brought the Henny!” Yoongi announces with a smirk. At the sound of Henny I turn around and walk back into the den, grabbing the Hennessy bottle from Yoongi’s grasp and opening it to pour myself some shots. 
“Oh so that’s what we doing huh?” He smirks and I just wink at him raising my shot glass at him. 
“The night is young my friend.” I say as I raise up my second shot in a toast. Joon takes the bottle from me and pours me another one, clinking his own glass with mine. 
“Let’s get this bread!” he says to which I grimace and retort back, “Grandpa, don’t ever say that again.” He chuckles with a roll of his eyes and downs his shot. 
The heat from the alcohol going down my throat and coursing throughout my body has me removing my jacket. Jin whistles saying “aight mami, you sure you're getting over a break up?”
Giggling, I look over at him to see him checking me out. I’m donned in black ripped skinny jeans, black platform Jadon docs, and a green satin tank top; meaning my tattoo covered arm is out on display. “Boy please, be quiet before you get me in trouble with Tree. Where is she anyway?”
“She had to work tonight. She’s gonna come after her shift which should be soon.” He says checking the time on his phone. 
Another shot is placed in my hand by Jimin, “bottoms up bitch!”
I down my shot just as I hear the sounds of “Yo Perreo Sola” by Bad Bunny start to play. “Oh shit! This my song!!!” I yell, clearly feeling the effect of the alcohol contents fueling my body. I grab Jimin’s hand and drag him over to the crowd dancing in the large living room. 
Jimin positions himself behind me, holding my waist as we start to dance to the song. We grind up on each other, perreando like the song describes, screaming the chorus together with the crowd. I turn around to face him and push him backwards, ready to perrear sola. The other girls around me start to hype me up and start to grind against me. We put on quite the show but the crowd goes even wilder when the song switches to “Frikitona” by Plan B. Jin dances up next to me with Tree on his arm and hands me two more shots, “double fist time babyyy” he yells over the crowd. I take the shots all the while I’m dancing, I don’t even notice when the two empty glasses are replaced with new full ones by Jimin, knowing it's him with the pink hair on his head, but I down those two. I vaguely notice Hoseok and Brittany dancing not too far from me, practically making love on the dance floor. Wouldn’t surprise me if they disappeared upstairs real soon. The reggaetón bops keep going and Jimin and I keep dancing amidst the crowd. Whoever picked this mix deserves a reward because it got all the throwbacks. I smile big when I hear Don Omar’s “Dile.”
I’m sweating, pushing my hair back from my face every few seconds, regretting not bringing a scrunchie with me to put it in a bun. The reggaetón mix fades off into a bachata mix with “Te Extrano” by Xtreme being the first song to play. Not wanting to go back into my feels, I decide to take this time to grab water and sober a bit. Now that I’ve stopped dancing I realize just how drunk I really am. I lean against the counter and grab a cool water bottle from the cooler, snickering when I see Yoongi making out with some girl across the kitchen. 
The bachata mix turns sensual, as “Sobredosis” by Romeo Santos starts to play. I sway softly in my spot against the counter, singing along to the song as I try hard to sober up. 
I hear Tony yell a “Look who finally made it” and the crowd starts to shout their greetings at whoever just walked in. I turn around to see what the commotion is all about and see Jungkook walking in holding two bottles of Hennessy, one in each hand.
“What the fuck” I whisper softly, but not soft enough when I hear Taehyung reply, “yeah, he’s back.”
“Whoa when did you get here TaeTae? And when you say ‘he’s back’ you mean cause of summer break right?” I ask without turning back around to look at him, my attention at one man and one man only. 
“I got here a while ago with Janet, we were outside smoking though.” Ahh that makes sense. “And no, he’s back for good. He graduated last week.” He says with a smirk in my direction. 
My eyes go wide, muttering a soft, “fuck.” I turn around to face the kitchen, hands in my hair in exasperation. How did he graduate already? He’s like three years younger than me! I close my eyes and focus on doing the math only to realize that he in fact was graduating college this year. Shit. 
Tae pats my back, “what’s got your panties in a twist love? It’s not like you fucked the guy on his 21st birthday and never spoke to him again even though he’s one of your best friend’s, Yoongi’s to be exact, younger brother.”
I open my eyes and face Tae. He yells an exaggerated ‘OW!” when I twist his nipple. 
“Kim Taehyung what the fuck?! I told you never to mention that again.” I exhale and make the decision to continue my “getting shitfaced” mission. Pouring a line of shots, I start to take them one after the other until Tae decides to take the last 3 himself earning a “fuck you” from me. 
I lean against the counter, facing the living room only to see Jungkook walking towards me. I roll my eyes at him when I see his smirk directed at me. He walks up next to me and opens the bottle of Hennessy, not saying a word. Taehyung chuckles and leaves with a “have fun lovebirds.” Jungkook pours two shots and hands me one. But he doesn’t just give it to me like any decent person would, no way, he has the audacity to bring the shot glass to my lips , softly nudging my lips open with it to make me drink. Not one to back down from a challenge, I hold his hand holding the shot glass against me and throw my head back to down it. His big brown eyes, those that were so full of innocence, are now full of lust and focused on my lips. I don’t miss the way they subtly move down to look at my neck when I swallow the alcohol, or the way his hand still near my lips slightly twitches when my tongue flicks out to lick my bottom lip, making sure I take every drop of alcohol he gave me. 
He leans closer to me, his scent which now surrounds me making me even drunker. My hands go up to his chest instinctively, as if I had the willpower to actually shove him away. I could feel his heart beating faster against my hands, his pecks feeling tight...woah when did that happen? 
I feel, rather than see, his face lean closer to my ear where he softly whispers, “wana show me what else you can swallow?” His deep melodic voice has me closing my eyes and gulping in a millisecond, feeling a rush of wetness pool at my core.  
I open my eyes, reminding myself who I’m talking to and laugh the nerves away. I shove him back, needing some room to breathe and he chuckles at my antics. 
The playlist starts to play “Imitadora” by Romeo Santos and I can feel a change in the atmosphere. Jungkook takes a step closer to me, arm going around me to softly push me against him. He leans close to my ear again to whisper “dance with me” but I’m too high off his scent and to the beat of his heart that’s vibrating against where my hands rest on his chest to answer. He takes it as a yes and walks us backwards to the center of the makeshift dance floor. 
I bring myself back to the present and raise an eyebrow at him, “You sure you can keep up Korean boy?” I feel his chest softly vibrate from his chuckle.
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve preciosa” he answers with a smirk as he twirls me around. I swoon at his honey like voice calling me “preciosa,” with the subtle hint of his accent. But I feel my pussy clench when he dances bachata like a Latin born man. 
My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest when he starts singing the chorus of the song in perfect Spanish close to my ear. Hitting every note like if he was Romeo Santos. 
He must've heard my swift intake of breath by the way he smiles. A smile I feel on my neck as he leans even closer to me to drop a kiss at my nape, sealing it with a lick. 
The song comes to an end, quickly transitioning to a more up tempo bachata song. Jungkook drops another kiss on my neck and whispers “wana see what other tricks I got?”
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h2bakugou · 4 years
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hi!! can i request a bakugo scenario where the reader has a quirk similar to mcu scarlet witch's powers? except instead of red, their magic is gold? thanks so much!! :)💘
a/n: yes! also please forgive me if the power seems off, it’s been a while since i’ve seen a movie with scarlet witch, and i never got the chance to see her movie so im working off of google.
summary: after having a bit of a bad day, bakugou finds you training your heart out trying to sort yourself out. bakugou notices you’re wearing yourself out and intervenes.
key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color 
warnings: swearing, fluff, slight angst
wordcount: 760
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»»————- ★ ————-««
You had been having a bad day. Everybody has them. But yours was proving to be shit. You’d slept through your alarm and was late to first period. And then during lunch, you bumped into someone and both platters of food spilled onto you.
You were just having an off day. It seemed like the world was against you. And with your quirk relating to chaos, it felt like even your own quirk was against you.
And the cherry on top, you’d flunked Present Mic’s most recent test. You were angry, frustrated. You wanted to get your anger out and it was pretty obvious.
Everyone in class 1-A could see you were upset, and tired of questions from Deku and Mina, you frankly wanted to be left alone.
That’s why you were in gym gamma.
Bakugou had noticed you’d seemed pretty off today. He debated going to check on you, but after hearing about how you snapped at Kaminari, he figured he should leave you alone.
But he was on edge.
He knew you were capable of a lot. You had a pretty strong quirk, and not to mention it was heavily influenced by emotion. Who knows what you could do when you’re furious.
On his walk to gym gamma, he could see the bright gold glowing light from the windows above the door. You were using your quirk. Bakugou picked up his pace.
“Fucking stupid.” You yelled, your palms glowing gold. You began to crush the pillars of rock that were formed in the center of the gym, sending them crumbling down around you.
Bakugou slid inside the door and watched from behind. 
“All you do is fuck up.” You spoke, flinging one of the pillars into the wall. You were mad. And nothing was helping.
You were so caught up in destroying the pillars, you didn’t notice how they were all slowly beginning to tumble in your direction.
Chaos truly was your specialty.
Bakugou admired your strength from afar. He’d never upfront say he was impressed by you, but he was.
Bakugou looked closer at you. You had all sorts of scrapes and bruises on your arms and hands from using your quirk.
You were known to end up about as messed up as Deku. You couldn’t help it. Your quirk was hard to control, especially at the level it was at.
You had become used to getting all sorts of cuts and bruises so you didn’t pay any mind to them.
Bakugou’s head snapped at the sound of rock crumbling. He watched as the scene seemed to play out in slow motion. That’s when his feet began to move. He sprinted towards you.
As the large rock towers crumbled over you, an arm hooked around your waist and yanked you out of the way.
A loud crash caused you to squeeze your eyes shut and for a few seconds, all you could hear was ringing in your ear.
When the dust settled you looked up to see Bakugou hovering over you.
“Bakugou?” You questioned, looking up into his crimson eyes.
“You were about to get squashed like a bug, dumbass.” Bakugou didn’t move from his position. 
You looked at each other for a few seconds before everything registered.
“You should be more careful.” Bakugou stood and extended a hand to you, helping you.
“Says the one with an explosive attitude about as wild as his quirk.” You shot back, dusting yourself off.
“If you don’t want to serve house-arrest, you better leave soon.” Bakugou shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk off. You groaned and caught up with him, walking beside him.
“Not a word about this to anyone.” You glared at him.
“What saving your ass? Ha.” Bakugou smirked, his eyes wandering off.
“Thanks.” You said quietly.
“What was that? Did you say something?” Bakugou teased.
“Shut up you ass.” You punched his shoulder playfully.
“You’re feisty, but not as bad as I thought you’d be.” Bakugou looked back over at you. He let out a laugh at your expression.
“I’m not feisty!” You replied, waving your hands around.
“Yeah okay, you keep telling yourself that, Goldie.” Bakugou had given you the stupid nickname during your first spar.
“I told you not to call me that.”
“You walk so slow, I don’t want to clean with you so let’s go.” Bakugou ignored your statement and picked up his pace.
“You make me want to pull out my hair.”
“You can’t get enough of me don’t lie.”
“As if!” You puffed your cheeks out.
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imissjoongsmullet · 4 years
Text
My Prince (2)
Pairing: Minghao x reader
Genre: fluff/(angst)
Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.
Part 1
Part 3
Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill
Word Count: 3.5k
Author’s Note: thanks to everyone who was kind enough to reblog and/or leave feedback on the first part! It makes my day ♥ ♥ ♥  This isn’t my most popular thing on here but it’s got such a special place in my heart  ♥  Also, I promise the next part will have a bunch more fluff so look forward to that~!
“Come on,” you hissed under your breath as you attempted to mold your hair into the shape it was supposed to be. If Tou Ma found it messy again she’d do more than just tell you off. If she found you late on duty on the other hand she’d do even worse, so you had to get going.
It had been a whole two weeks and you still felt like a complete novice at just about everything that was expected of you. You kept getting lost and forgetting the many forms of curtsies, you’d over-bubbled the prince’s bath, lost one of his hunting coats. One time you’d even dropped a platter of fruit in the presence of the empress. You were reaching new levels of embarrassment every day and slowly but surely longing for the days spent getting your nails dirty in the gardens with your parents. At least you’d been somewhat good at gardening. In here, everything you did was wrong; everything you were was wrong. And now, you couldn’t even get your hair to sit right.
Groaning as as yet another strand of hair fell down over your eyes, you twisted around and left the maid’s quarters, hoping no one would notice. Dashing through the castle you retrieved your things, trying desperately not to look as panicked as you were. By the time you arrived at the prince’s chamber doors you were panting. You pressed a few fingers against your chest, as if that would magically calm your heartbeat — it didn’t.
To your great relief, prince Minghao was still asleep. You set down your tea tray went to pull back the heavy drapes covering the opening towards his balcony. Now the morning light fell onto his soft features you found it hard not to stare. To tell the truth, you often found yourself staring at the young prince. Minghao had grown up well. He was only one year older than you, but he already looked so much more mature, both in good ways and bad. The way he held himself in body language and conversation astounded you. It was so far from how you’d known him all those years ago and, as handsome as you thought he’d become, your heart sank at the coolness in him. It was as if someone had turned off the lights behind his eyes.
Though when you looked at him now, there was a softness about him that didn’t often show itself while he was awake. His skin looked soft as peach and his plump lips curved into a slight smile that made you not want to wake him at all.
He looked happy. You drew nearer, smiling yourself. He looked so comfortable in the soft plush of his royal bed. For the tiniest moment, you kind of wished you could just slip under the silk covers with him and forget about your duties. He had quite long eyelashes; you’d never noticed that before. They began to flutter and before you could do anything, Minghao’s waking eyes were on you.
With a small gasp you fell back, tripping over your robes and falling onto the rug on the floor. Mortified, you jumped back up, unable to look at him. Hoping he somehow, magically hadn’t seen yet another blunder of yours, you bent over your tea set and began pouring the water.
“You, um, you’re expected at breakfast shortly,” you said. Even though you’d told him this exact sentence every morning for the past two weeks, you hadn’t been able to say it properly once. You couldn’t tell whether it was due to you being clumsy or the fact that Minghao always looked like heaven in the morning.
You heard him groan behind you.
“Your tea, your highness,” you added, twisting around to find him sitting up in the bed, disgruntled frown plastered across his face.
Ignoring the biting feeling in your chest, you walked over and set the tray down beside him.
He didn’t even look at you as he took the cup and lifted it to his lips.
You took that as your cue to leave.
You saw him in the dining room next, where you were supposed to make sure the prince’s breakfast experience was on point. In reality, it was a lot of standing around and waiting. The emperor and empresses’ servants were there as well, one a bit friendlier than the other.
“You’ve messed up your hair again,” Mie whispered when no one was looking.
“I know,” you replied as the short girl’s nimble fingers ran through your hair, swiftly pulling back the loose strands into their proper place.
The room was unusually tense this morning and when the emperor finally opened his mouth you understood why.
“I think we should call forth a meeting about these protests,” he said in a deep, droning voice, rubbing a bony finger against his temple. Emperor Xu Yilan was a tall, slender man with hair down to his waist. He had been a promising presence when he’d first ascended the throne but had lost most of the people’s support in recent years, after his naivety had led to the loss of some of their land to a neighboring empire called Yientan.
The empress placed a hand on her husband’s wrist.
“What am I to do?” the man went on, eyes flitting to his only son for the swift fraction of a second.
“I’m sure your men can put an end to the protesters,” the empress said.
“No,” replied the emperor, “the people are right to protest. We need the highlands back. I’ve got to—” he balled his hands into fists on the table.
“Let us talk about something else, no?” the empress suggested, picking at the pickled vegetables in front of her with her chopsticks.
But the emperor’s head seemed to be swarming with thoughts of only one thing. Minghao didn’t speak at all during breakfast and when he rose from the table you noticed he’d barely touched his food at all.
“Follow me,” he said as he passed you on the way out.
Doing as you were told, you slid out the room, shuffling after him through the many maze-like hallways. The tense atmosphere from breakfast seemed to follow the two of you as well. Minghao was stiff as ever and quiet as night.
Through a side door you found yourself on an outdoor walkway. You’d seen it before; you’d had a pretty good view of it from the apple orchard while you’d worked with your parents but you’d never known where it led.
You looked out into the vast gardens spread out before you, hoping to catch sight of your parents. You hadn’t seen them since you’d come to the castle. You saw some tiny heads here and there behind the various greenery but couldn’t make out anything defining. You wondered whether the wisteria were blooming yet. You couldn’t quite see them from here and they’d always been your favorite. You stood on the tips of your toes to peak over the apple trees obstructing your view. Maybe you could go see them after dark, after the prince had gone to sleep and you’d be— the prince.
You spun around, half expecting to have been abandoned, yet there here was. Minghao was standing a bit further onto the wooden path, staring at you in silence.
“I’m sorry,” you blurted, remembering one of Tou Ma’s many slogans: to keep a royal waiting is an act akin to treason — over-dramatic of course, “so sorry, your highness.” You bowed toward him and when you raised your head again found he was still looking at you quizzically. He blinked a few times, his eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth to say something else but were too scared to make a fool of yourself even more than you already had and closed it again.
Finally, Minghao turned around and continued down the wooden path. All you could do was follow. At the end of the walkway, you came upon a tall structure, protected by a pair of heavy doors. Minghao parted them, revealing the most peculiar square room. You walked in after him, gazing up at the impossibly tall walls of the place. They were lined with books upon books upon books, inter-spaced by large, circular gaps, letting in an abundance of soft sunlight. At the center of the room was a considerable open space, in which only a few low tables stood, their legs digging into the soft rugs underneath.
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but let out. You’d never seen this many books before. You hadn’t even known this many books existed.
The prince turned around to you once again, and, at seeing your amazement, a tiny, smug smile appeared at the corner of his lips. He lead you to the very center before speaking.
“I need your help with something.”
A little pang of angst shot up your spine.
“Help, from me?” you questioned, “here?”
He nodded. “I’m looking for a book but I can’t remember where I put it. It is called A Vast Unfathomable Secret, about this big,” he held up his hands.
“A Vast Unfathomable Secret,” you repeated nervously, “this big…”
“I’m not asking you the world,” he said, scoffing a little as he sat down, “I’ll be here, reading until you fetch it for me.”
You felt yourself go red in the face again and turned away from him. Looking up at the massive walls of books, your legs went weak. Did the prince not know?
You didn’t know how to read.
Where would you even begin? Dread filling your sandals, you realized you had only one option.
“Um,” you started, turning around, “your highness?”
He raised his head out of a book that looked like it contained a whole universe worth of stories.
“Could you maybe tell me a bit more about what the book looks like?”
He gazed at you bewildered for a small moment before sighing.
“It has a brown cover with gold foiled lettering… quite elaborate in style, and if I recall correctly, there’s a small lily indented on the the cover as well.” He finished the explanation with a gentle nod in your direction.
You nodded eagerly back at him.
“Will that be enough?” he asked, already with his head to his book again.
“Yes,” you said at once, “yes, your highness, thank you.”
You walked up to the nearest bookshelf and began your search, thankful the prince hadn’t asked any further questions about why the title alone didn’t suffice for you to find what he needed.
Regrettably, the large majority of the books on the shelves were brown with gold lettering. It took you forever to pull out book after book, only to determine they were most likely not what the prince was looking for. It wasn’t your fault you’d never learned how to read. How could you have? Your parents didn’t exactly have the money for such luxuries. You’d always been curious though, when you’d seen the upper class sit in the sunlit grass, their noses so deep within the folds of the leather bound objects they wouldn’t even notice if a mouse darted right in front of them. What was it about books that enthralled people so?
Minghao seemed to understand. You sneaked a glance at him from behind a large brown cover, finding him hunched over the little table in deep concentration. His index finger treaded gracefully across the page as his eyes devoured the contents. His lips formed inaudible words as he read. Every once in a while he’d run a hand through his hair, only for it to fall back into his face the next moment. You were staring again; you couldn’t help it. Everything about him made you not want to look away, which was definitely not helping you find the book.
No, you thought to yourself, twisting back around towards the shelf and forcing your hand to wrap around yet another brown spine with gold lettering. You kept going tirelessly, working your way up in silence until you needed the ladder that ran all the way up to the topmost shelf, at least twenty feet up in the air.
Your concentration was cut abruptly with the dull thud of a heavy book. You looked down to see Minghao rise from the floor. He walked over to the bottom of the ladder and beckoned you down.
“I’m sorry, your highness,” you said, still finding it incredibly hard to look him in the eyes as you addressed him, “I couldn’t find it.”
“That’s okay,” he replied and you were surprised to find him… calm? Content? Kind? Happy even? All of the irritableness from this morning seemed to have fled out of him. Books really must be wonderful things, you thought.
“You can keep looking next time,” he went on, “I really would like it at some point.”
“Yes, your highness,” you breathed in disbelief at his sunny demeanor.
That night, all you could think about was Minghao. Minghao and the way he’d sort of smiled at you, Minghao buried in his books, Minghao looking at you from across the walkway. Minghao. Minghao. Minghao. But paired with these wonderful images were sickly waves of dread.
Ever since coming to the castle, you’d known you’d had to be careful; you’d known there was a chance you might…
But he’d been so cold towards you that, in the first few weeks, you’d been able to oversee the tiny flutters in your chest. Now, it was as if the lid of the jar had been lifted and a thousand butterflies tickled your insides mercilessly, making you squirm in the sheets of your bed. It seemed almost cruel, how all of a sudden you couldn’t sleep from the thought of his deep, brown eyes. Especially because the prince would be married off in a couple years’ time and you’d be left alone once again. No, pining after the prince was about the silliest thing you could do at this point; you shouldn’t waste your time. The biggest thing you could hope for was for him to smile at you again the way he had when you were children — when you’d been friends.
“Things are getting out of hand, don’t you see that?” a voice boomed over the long, low table, where five men sat.
Emperor Xu Yilan sat at the head of the table, looking flustered. Around him sat his three most trusted advisers, a pudgy, red-faced man, an elder with a beard so long it lay in his lap, and a youngster with heavy-lidded eyes. Lastly, was Minghao, who looked anything but happy to be there.
“I understand that,” said the emperor calmly, hushing the passionate man to his right, “but we can’t just declare war on Yientan. We’re not ready for that.”
“Perhaps it would be more prudent to send another delegation to plea for the freedom of Shingmin,” the elder suggested.
“As if that will work this time,” the red-faced man grumbled, shaking his head, “listen, the Shingmin highlands belong to us. Shingmin people are our people!” he raised his voice again, slapping his palm onto the shiny, wooden table, “it’s time to take back what’s ours!”
“And how do you propose we do that?” the emperor interjected in a high pitch. You’d been watching the scene from the sidelines, waiting to refill Minghao’s cup should he require it. But he hadn’t touched his drink since the start of the meeting. He’d merely kept his head down and let the other people speak. You gazed at him worriedly, wondering what was going through his head.
“This will not just blow over, your highness,” the eldest adviser said, “the people are angry, they demand justice for Shingmin and rightly so!”
“I will not go to war,” the emperor snapped back, putting a bony finger down onto the table.
“So we have lost.”
“How cowardly!”
“Silence!” the emperor hissed, before putting his head in his hands to rub at his wrinkled face, “we are simply not ready. I’ve led our troops once and failed. I cannot live to see that happen again.”
The silence that followed weighed so heavy, you felt like you could barely breathe.
“Your highness,” the youngest of the advisers spoke up at last, making heads turn. He folded his fingers together calmly and addressed the emperor himself. “Forgive me for speaking so boldly but,” he paused, thinking, “there is one option we have yet to discuss.” His eyes then went to Minghao, who looked like he was holding on by a fraying thread.
One by one, everyone’s attention turned to the young prince.
“I understand he is only seventeen years of age and the enthronement usually happens at twenty,” the young adviser explained, “but given his… reputation,” another pause, in which the entire room held its breath, “wouldn’t it be wiser to hasten the ceremony a little?”
Minghao sat very still, but you could see in his eyes that his whole earth was shattering.
The emperor looked at his son, bushy brows furrowed, contemplating what had just been suggested. You wished he would just say something because the tension was becoming unbearable, even for you. You couldn’t imagine what Minghao must be going through.
You knew what the young adviser was suggesting, of course, and why. There was a valid reason to believe Minghao could do what his father couldn’t, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying for the young prince.
There was a story, a myth, concerning the imperial family of Namin that went back nearly a thousand years. You’d heard this story told as a lullaby when you were a child and couldn’t sleep. Your mother would point to the top of the imperial castle, where the golden dragon statue sat, overlooking the empire, and she’d tell you how that statue used to be a real dragon, how the first ruler of Namin had befriended the dragon and even saved its family from death. In return, when Namin came under attack of a foreign army, the dragon had fought for Namin, giving its life to protect the emperor he’d come to love. As the dragon breathed its last breath, it turned into the golden statue that now sat at the top of the imperial castle, promising that it would come back should the empire ever need it.
Only, the dragon had never returned since, even when Namin fell in deep trouble. Skeptics said it was because the whole thing was fake, but most believed the reason the dragon hadn’t returned was because the emperors that had followed the first hadn’t been worth fighting for. Most believed the dragon was waiting for a worthy ruler to fight alongside of, which is where Minghao came in.
The day of Minghao’s birth was the brightest the land had seen in a long time, making the dragon shine like never before. On top of that, there were various accounts of people saying they’d seen the dragon move that morning, this all leading to the common belief that prince Minghao would be the one to awaken the dragon and bring Namin back to it’s former glory.
After what seemed like forever, the emperor finally spoke up.
“What do you think about this, my son?”
Minghao’s lips parted but it was clear no sound would come out. He closed them again and looked down.
"An enlightened idea," the old adviser said, nodding slowly.
"Precisely," the younger adviser replied, "if we have the ceremony this summer we could—"
"He's too juvenile!" the red-faced adviser cut in.
"He's proved himself more than capable I say—"
"He doesn't even know how to wield a sword properly!"
“He's not bad with a bow, I've seen him—"
"The guards barely take him seriously!”
The sharp scrape of a chair brought the heated conversation to a halt. All eyes went to Minghao, who had risen, eyes still cast downward. Without a word, he turned around and strode out the door.
“Son!” the emperor called, though he didn’t follow.
“See!” the loudest of the advisers sneered, “young and reckless! How would he run Namin?”
It took you a few moments to realize what had just happened. The conversation had been so heavy it had sucked you right in. You shook the daze from your eyes and spun around, following the prince’s hurried footsteps. It was hard to catch up to him; you still weren’t too comfortable with the tight sandals and the restricting robes you had to wear. All you could do was shuffle awkwardly after him, watching the back of his head as it went.
“Minghao!” you called after him, forgetting all about proper terms and honorifics. You didn’t even know what you were doing. The only thing going through your head was how dreadful Minghao had looked and how you wanted to help him. It didn’t matter you hadn’t the slightest idea of how exactly to help him.
“Minghao, please wait!” you yelled, watching him approach his chamber doors.
You reached them just a moment after he opened them.
Abruptly, he turned around to face you in the door frame, the grave sight of his face making your insides churn.
“Leave me,” he ordered, his voice loud and stern, before slamming the doors in your face.
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wonderlustlucas · 5 years
Text
calefaction - hwang hyunjin
⇢ prompt “You make my heart go boom boom.” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 8.1k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, dry humping, a shitty handjob, oral (f receiving), referral to oral as “coochie suck,” okay it got really soft & fluffy at the end i’m sorry, comedy / crack because han jisung & ot9 are FOOLS ⇢ summary In another universe, your life does not revolve around keeping your infatuation over the boy with the pretty smile secret. In another universe, he does not know how much you like him, nor does he harbor the same feelings. But not in this universe. In this one, your heart beats fast for Hwang Hyunjin, but his beats faster.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n omg WHAT i can’t believe this is 8k ajhdjhfjd it was supposed to be like a quick 4k cuz it was Hard Hours but here we are......yikes.....not necessarily the first fic for hyunjin i wanted to post but it ended up being really cute:) i hope you enjoy! pls like & reblog if you do, i love reading tags ♥︎
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There has always been something about him that caught her attention. The first time she met him it was his mouth that she found herself focusing on; in between the white and gold and blue fireworks exploding above them, she would sneak glances across their friend’s back patio to admire the way each color lit up his face. Every time he took a sip of whatever sloshed in his red plastic cup his lips would glisten before his tongue darted out to swipe away the moisture and oh God, she would kill to do that for him. As the celebration dragged on she found herself edging closer, swallowing down more liquid courage with each shot just so she could catch a better look at his teeth and his smile and the way his face lit up and nose scrunched and eyes disappeared into cute little crescents every time he laughed. She wanted to make him giggle like that. There was no other that matched his. He put all the stars and all the fireworks to shame— who was that?
The second time she was in his company, she could not help but swoon over what an absolute sweetheart he was and all she wanted to do was tuck the precious baby in her pocket and shower him with love. And yet this all came simply by joining her friends at the nearby bowling alley for a night. Unbeknownst to her, his friend group and hers were evidently meeting up and even though she ended up not playing against him, she was determined to know something about him before she left. Hwang, he set his name as— she felt awkward randomly asking him for his full name, and so she decided instead to ask him if he would come with her to buy pitchers of soda for the two groups while they finished setting up the games.
“Sure!” He smiled right away, turning away from his friends and leading the way. Immediately her heart skipped a beat and she hurriedly followed after him, staring at his red converse the whole time. “What’s your name?” He suddenly asked, taking smaller steps in order to match her pace. When she looked up at him to meet his curious gaze and tilted head she nearly stopped right then and there to scream.
Instead she swallowed the lump in her throat and answered him, then asked for his own since the opportunity had been served to her on a silver platter.
“Hyunjin,” he said, the name slipping softly past his lips and she found herself muttering it under her breath as he ordered two pitchers of soda and two pizzas at the counter. She loved it. Hyunjin. She knew his name! Comfortable silence fell over the new acquaintances and she was content leaving it that way, too fearful she would give away her nervousness and stutter out dreadful small talk. Besides, just being there next to him and admiring his pretty face when he was not looking was more than enough.
They did not speak anymore after that until he praised her later on for the strike she made and even though all she could do was thank him, she physically could not stop looking to him just to grin after watching him cheer so jubilantly for her. But now she was distracted, watching him instead of her own friends when he would go up to bowl and oh God oh God oh God he’s so cute and wow his hair looks so soft and Jesus Christ his smile is the prettiest thing in the entire world.
But her admiring did not go unreciprocated. She felt jittery all over and could not stop chewing on her lip whenever it was her turn, walking slowly to pick up her ball with the weight of his gaze from behind. Before when her fingers would slip into the ball’s holes, she would never really care about how many pins she would knock down; now, she held onto the polished marble globe for dear life and prayed each time she would not look like a fool and throw her bowl into the gutter.
Her prayers generally were answered for the three games they played and she landed herself in second place each time. But her smile was not from a job well done; rather from the cheerful grin Hyunjin would flash her no matter how many pins she knocked down when all her other friends were too busy gawking at Han Jisung and Lee Minho and the rest of his friends. She felt warm and loopy all over again, this time not from alcohol, and she really, really wanted to plant herself next to him—Hell, right on his lap— and kiss him, but knew that would be outrageously ludicrous for someone she technically just met only a few hours ago. She opted instead to cheer him on after his turns as he was doing for her, and just hearing his giggle in response was enough to sate her.
And so the night slowly drew to a close, her friends and his rendered tired and bored with nothing left to talk about for the time being. Even though her heart leapt at the possibility of Hyunjin initiating something, she reminded herself again that it was unlikely and truly was not that disappointed when all he did was wave goodbye on their way out. It’s alright, she told herself, it’s not like this is the last time you’re going to hang out. Afterall, it seemed like the two friend groups were slowly beginning to fuse.
And for the next few months, she was right. As summer quickly rounded the corner she found herself spending more time around him and learning new things about him each time. When she first heard him mention dance in a conversation with Minho at Changbin’s end-of-the-year bonfire, she couldn’t help but lean over in her seat to hear him more clearly. Great, here he was, the literal most perfect human alive, talking about his newest dance routine minutes after taking her side of the argument that summer reading wasn’t all that bad if you just gave the books a chance.
He was just about flawless in every sense of the word with his stupidly pretty plump lips and the beauty marks under his left eyelid and the right side of his jaw and neck and God, the way he talked about his dog Kkami? She was head over heels.
Nevertheless, she did not want to overstep her boundaries and opted instead to avoid getting too close to the untouchable boy, fearful that if she had one more conversation with him over how watermelon is the superior fruit that she would eventually just implode. She hoped she was not coming off cold; because, let’s be real, Hyunjin will cling like a koala if you allow him to and it was more than obvious that she was keeping a distance from him, hoping their relationship would not go beyond mutual friends. She could only hope that he would not notice through the rose-colored glasses he watched life behind.
When her phone buzzed with a text message in their group chat from Felix asking if they could go to her place for night swimming, she sat up in bed and thought for a long minute for some excuse to give to avoid having them all over. It wasn’t that she did not have the house for it, and her parents were out for the night— she simply felt obligated to clean the place up for everyone since they had never hung out at hers before. However, she felt guilty since she was the only one with a pool and eventually texted back that it was fine for them to come over.
Nonetheless, there were not enough hours in the day, it seemed, to calm her nerves of having to reveal so much of her bare body to them all when it came to wearing a bathing suit. When Minho and Hyunjin arrived first, the light of the day had just drained away, leaving the sunset’s pink and orange colors subdued in the fading light and the first chirping crickets and buzz of mosquitoes took over what the birds had retired for the night. As the host for the evening, she felt it was impolite to join the two in the pool when so many more of their friends would be arriving, so she left her t-shirt on and waited against the patio table while the two of them undressed.
She tried to keep her eyes away— really, she did, but in the close silence of the dim evening light she could not help but look upwards, her gaze instinctively travelling to Hyunjin. With his back to her, she felt guilty gawking at the broadness of his shoulders and the way the muscles of his back rippled as he took off his shirt, so she tore her stare away only seconds before him or Minho could notice how flustered she had become just by his bare back.
She refused to join the others until the entire group had arrived, even if that meant sitting and standing by herself while all her friends goofed around. It’s alright, she told herself, now I can slip in without anyone noticing. As soon as Eunsook set her things down and joined everyone else playing Sharks and Minnows, she finally turned the music blaring from the speaker up higher and shimmied out of her shirt before skipping over to the stairs and quickly submerging herself into the water despite the chill that had her teeth clattering.
“Alrighty, time to head home,” Minho teases as soon as he notices her paddling towards them; she rolls her eyes before disappearing below the surface and swimming for him. Even underwater she can still hear his yelps when her fingers come to pinch roughly at his sides. When she resurfaces, she is met with a splash to her face, which ends up hitting Jeongin next to her and in a blink of an eye an entire war is breaking out.
She is still too cold to participate and hurriedly backs away from all the splashing, opting instead to watch the chaos until her body acclimates to the freezing temperature of the water. “Are you cold?” A melodious voice whispers softly at her ear, sending a different kind of chill shooting down her spine. She turns slightly, relieved but terrified to see how close Hyunjin hovers behind her; she did not even notice him approach her. “Freezing,” she laughs quietly, hands rubbing at her arms that are rough with goosebumps.
He hums, seemingly lost in thought for a moment as he stares delicately at her before he presses himself against her back and crosses his arms above her chest, his head sitting gently in the crook of her neck. “Better?” Hyunjin purrs, so close against her and oh God, her teeth seem to clatter even more despite the way her lower stomach jumps and warmth spreads throughout her limbs.
“Yeah,” she whispers, breathless, brain still trying to register his skin against hers and therefore abandoning every other cognitive ability. Hyunjin makes a noise of content, tightening his grip on her and nestling into her neck. She can only pray that he pays no mind to the way she gulps nervously before forcing her attention back to the others still tussling in the shallower end of the water.
“___ is a pus—”
Minho starts to accuse before he is rudely interrupted by Changbin tackling him under the surface. In the meantime, Eunsook and the three other girls let out a series of panicked shrieks, scrambling to get out of the pool when Chan lets out a battle cry after giving the diving board a few experimental bounces. The same second he cannonballs off the board, Minho thrashes back up, still wrestling with Changbin. Evidently, both chaotic instances cause a surge of water her way and she scrambles backward and further against Hyunjin, accidentally rutting against him simply to dodge the spray.
So many things happen at one time she finds it a struggle to focus on each one. First, all she can register is the chlorine water meeting her eyes and stinging like a handful of needles. And then, just as Minho starts up his monologue again, her mind ultimately blocks out everything else occurring around her when a husky moan escapes Hyunjin’s lips.
“As I was saying, ___ is a pussy, she started this and all she’s doing is hiding away with lover boy,” Minho condemns as Hyunjin quickly unlocks his arms from around her in order to grab at her hips in reflex. Unable to form a coherent sentence, let alone a coherent thought, all she can do is shoot Minho the finger and give him a sarcastic glare. At her lack of a fight, Minho grumbles and turns away, chasing after Changbin who had swam to the deeper end.
The realization that she is essentially alone with Hyunjin at the other side of the pool sets over her like thick fog, and yet it seems to be that she is not the only one who is breathing heavily. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself to not only calm her beating heart but to ignore what she oh so wants to do while simultaneously gathering up the courage to do it. His slender fingers still gripping onto her hips for dear life eventually serves as a prompting enough green light and she at last makes up her mind. Just test it out again, she convinces herself with one last prayer to Heaven before lifting herself up slightly, allowing the water to help guide her movements as she rolls her body back onto him again. It elicits a carnal groan deep from his throat.
Just like that there is a fire in her veins, sparked to life by his presence and suddenly she’s not so cold anymore, everything feels ten times hotter and she silently spins around to face him, staring at him with sudden innocence. The ball is in his court.
“You’re a sly one, aren’t you?” Hyunjin teases with raised brows, large hands sliding down her waist, curving over her ass and settling on the underside of her legs to urge them around his hips. He looks unfairly gorgeous at the given moment, wisps of chestnut hair fallen over his forehead in soaked tufts and skin glowing with a sheen of water— a God, to be fair. “Not really,” she says honestly; unable to hold his hooded gaze, she instead follows after her palms as they run over the smooth skin of his arms, ghosting over his chest and making sure to brush over the beauty mark on his neck when they settle to link behind his head. Even though he trembles, she wonders whether he can feel the erratic beating of her pulse or secretly knows how much vulnerability hides beneath her façade.
“Hm,” he hums, fingers clutching tighter at her thighs, “I guess it makes sense now, though.”
“What makes sense?”
“That you have a crush on me, stupid. You avoid me like I have the plague so I thought you just didn’t like me in general or something. Turns out you like like me,” Hyunjin says, voice dripping in blatant delight and he wiggles his eyebrows at her when she finally looks back up to him, eyes widened in total embarrassment.
“I, well—”
She is just beginning to gather the brain cells necessary to explain herself when the oppressive boom of thunder cuts her off.
Caught completely off guard, a startled cry escapes her and she jumps, squeezing herself around Hyunjin and burying her face into the safety of his neck— since when was there going to be a storm? Nevertheless, her fright is totally washed away when he uses her proximity to his advantage and nips at the junction of her shoulder, red hot desire taking its place when he kisses over the mark.
“Nope, fuck, that’s it! I’m out!” Felix shouts, pushing Jeongin up the stairs with him and effectively ruining her moment of utter disbelief. “C’mon, we have to get out,” Hyunjin coos, reaching down to pry her legs off of him.
“It’s fine, honestly just let me die,” she sighs dreamily, floating on her back away from him. There is some truth in her exaggeration— her heart is already pumping at such an ungodly fast rate getting struck by lightning would practically be a blessing.
Hyunjin scoffs, grabbing her by the ankles and steering her toward the stairs. “No way Jose,” he says, flipping his hair once she stands on her own feet and sending a dozen water drops directly into her eyes, “there’s no way I’m letting you die before I get a taste of you.” And with that, he leaves her stranded on the stairs to process his words, something hot and heavy laying upon her abdomen. Taste? What does that mean? Did he mean a kiss or—
Shaking her head, she rids the tantalizing thought and slaps her cheeks to get the blood flowing again, trying to not focus on Hyunjin’s words and every moment leading up to them. As she follows after him to where the others cluster around the picnic table, she slowly discovers the error of her ways with an annoyed whine when she realizes she forgot to grab a towel for herself. She’s not about to go run inside for one downstairs when she has water dripping off her like a waterfall, but with the way distant thunder rolls across the malevolent sky she also understands that it won’t be long until her friends want to head home before the storm reaches them.
“Share with me,” she demands of Chan who stands next to her wrapped up in his own towel, her frame quivering with chills all over again. An exasperated grunt escapes him but he does not argue, lifting an arm to let her nestle beside him and share in some of his warmth. She mutters a thanks when he passes her the end of the towel and she curls it around them, making sure to soak up some of the droplets dotting her skin.
Standing in the midst of the rest of the group’s conversation, she really does make an attempt to pay attention to the chaos of their bantering, but it somehow feels like she’s stuck on the outside looking in. Even though she said goodbye to Woojin, Felix, Jeongin, Eunsook, and the other girls when they decided to head out, thinking over it a few moments later she can barely remember whether she hugged them on their way out or not. Or when Seungmin threw a Dorito at Jisung, Minho had said something that made her laugh but… what was it? Everything was going in one ear and out the other; which wasn’t a surprise, in all honesty, when the singular brain cell bouncing from each corner of her brain was focusing on Hyunjin and Hyunjin alone.
Even now, when she finds herself in a daze and mindlessly looks at him for the umpteenth time, she cannot help but notice how his jaw clenches and his eyes burn… resentfully back at her. What’s up with him? She wonders, chewing on her lip in worry that she had royally screwed up and he was regretting playing along. Just as her anxiety starts to get the best of her, he abruptly scoots his chair back from the table and stands with another hand carded through his hair.
“Where are you going?” Minho asks, forcing her back to reality and she holds her breath, afraid he’s going to say that he is heading home. Instead, he says with a goofy smirk, “I have to shit.”
When the rest of her friends break into a fit of laughter she finds herself sighing in relief, looking to him once more but then there he goes again— dark and hooded eyes glaring at her with an intensity that tightens her chest. She almost seems to wilt by the time he turns around, heart hammering in her chest because—while that was unnecessarily hot—her mind is a spinning top trying to figure out what she could have done to make him hate her all of a sudden.
“___?” Jisung interrupts her thoughts, “What about you?”
“Huh?” She blinks, having completely missed whatever conversation had been happening.
“Is lasagna just spaghetti flavored cake? Yes or no?”
For the first time in the last hour, her focus finally has to stop and think about something other than Hyunjin and she cannot help but crack a smile. “I mean, yeah. I’d say so.”
“HA! You lose,” Minho shouts, pointing at Jisung. “If ___ agrees, then, well…” Seungmin trails off, looking to her with an animated grin. Jisung only grumbles in reply, muttering something about how stupid everyone is while crossing his arms and sinking back into his seat like the child he is. “Speaking of ___,” Changbin singsongs, sharp features bright with amusement when he looks to her, “what’s up with you and Hyunjin?”
“What about me and Hyunjin?” She shoots back too quickly, transfixed instead on the coruscating reflection of the tiki torch flame on the glass table, unable to hold the weight of their stares.
“You guys weren’t very slick, y’know,” Chan comments, elbowing her in the ribs and she finally looks up to meet Changbin’s curious gaze at the table. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she admits with a shrug, abandoning Chan’s safeguard against the brewing storm winds to grab the bag of potato chips on the table, “he apparently knows I like him.”
“He what? Did you tell him? It would take a typed ten page single spaced letter for Hyunjin to ever possibly catch someone’s hints, he’s too slow,” Minho teases, grabbing her elbow to keep her from moving away so he can pick on the chips with her. “I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I accidentally told him one night in a drunk spur of the moment,” she lies, deciding that’s better than explaining how she experimentally grinded on him.
“Weird. Well, good luck with that. He can be a doofus,” Jisung says with a smile, reaching across the table for his crumpled shirt. “Thanks, I’ll need it. He was giving me death glares before he went inside so I have no idea what’s going on,” she grumbles, twisting to look over her shoulder out of fear he would walk out in the middle of their conversation.
“That’s weird. Did you say anything that would piss him off before you got out of the pool?” Chan asks, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Uh,” she pauses, thinking back to the whole taste thing, “nope.”
“Maybe he was just really constipated and it just so happened he was looking at you for help,” Seungmin muses with an amused grin. “Seungmin, are you telling me I made him have to poop?” She laughs, daring him to elaborate with raised brows.
“You never kn—”
Minho begins before the second cracking boom of thunder cuts him off, rendering them all struck speechless with shock. Right on cue rain begins to fall, slow to start and splattering them haphazardly.
“Oh, fuck!”
“Shit!”
“C’mon, we have to go!”
“WHY’S IT SO COLD?”
“Fuck, fuck, shit! Everything’s gonna be wet!”
They all seem to harmonize, chaos ensuing as they scramble to dress themselves while simultaneously gathering their belongings. Nevertheless, they can’t help but howl with laughter at the sudden adrenaline rush, hurrying to make it to their cars without getting too wet. “Bye!” She shouts as her five friends struggle past the locked gate to her back yard before disappearing out of view, wind beginning to pick up and carrying the small pellets of water in wild vortices one moment and in diagonal sheets the next. “Shit,” she hisses, frantic as she grabs her phone and what is left on the table before hurrying up the deck and into the safety of her home.
“Well, that sucked,” she mutters once inside, locking the sliding glass door and watching the rain that now falls as if from buckets from the blackened cloud dominating the sky above. She sets everything down on the kitchen island before moving to the refrigerator, opening the doors for no particular reason until the gurgle of a toilet flushing halts her movements. She pales as the realization hits her, leaning over to look into the foyer just as Hyunjin himself exits the bathroom down the hall.
“It’s raining,” he comments, shuffling around her shocked figure and nodding to the door as thunder cracks the air. She blinks, gut sinking with anxiety for she feels as if she’s stuck in limbo— was this sexual tension or was he mad at her for something? “A little rain never hurt nobody,” she hums awkwardly, following his gaze to watch the way tree branches sway erratically in the wind like flags high on their poles and instinctively wrapping her arms around herself to rub away the goosebumps.
The silence in the room is deafening and she’s holding her breath with the fear of the unknown heavy on her chest, praying for the floor to just swallow her up or for him to make the first move at either leaving or explaining… something.
“So,” Hyunjin starts when he looks to her instead, having apparently read her mind, “did you do that to purposely make me jealous?” When she closes the refrigerator doors and turns to him her pulse positively jump starts at the way he looks at her, eyes dark with something she can’t quite pinpoint. “Huh? What are you talking about?” She sputters when he moves closer, gaze frantically searching for something to look at that isn’t the indents of his collar bones or the toned pane of his stomach or even his eyes, too scared she would implode instantly if she did so.
“Either you’re dumb or you consciously cuddled up to Chan to make me jealous,” he elaborates menacingly in a tone she is certain she has never heard him use before and she instinctively steps back the closer he gets, pressed up against the cold marble of the island and oh, so that’s why he was glaring like that. She can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes past her lips and Hyunjin looks down at her with a vexed rise of his brows. “I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m just dumb,” she admits, finally maintaining eye contact now that he is so close and draws her attention to him like a fourth Newton law of motion, “I didn’t want to be too pushy.”
Hyunjin pouts, obsidian eyes melting into something more affectionate and bottom lip jutting out sadly. “Why would that make you pushy?” He asks gently, closing what space remains between them and pinning himself against her. His skin feels warm and smooth where it presses against her own and it feels as if nothing is real, that she is only dreaming when his slender fingers cup her face, holding her by the jaw and keeping her attention glued on him. “I— I don’t know. I was kind of whiplashed after the whole pool thing and I didn’t want to be all annoying and clingy if you didn’t want me too,” she explains shakily when his thumbs comfortingly caress her cheeks, gaze languidly studying her features but zeroing in on her tongue as it darts nervously between dry lips.
“Y’know,” Hyunjin breathes against them and her heart gives a single, solid thump, “I’m trying really hard to be all pissed at you for going to Chan instead of me, but you’re not making it easy.”
She can’t help the smirk that forms on her lips at his confession, finally lifting heavy arms to sling around his neck. “Oh shush, nothing can change the fact that you’re just a big softie, Hwang Hyunjin,” she teases with newfound courage, eyes glinting with tendrils of salacity and the atmosphere has most certainly shifted, heavy with the weight of desire and the drumming of rain on the roof only adds to her longing to press closer to him in the cold darkness, to feel, to touch, to taste.
“Oh, really?” Hyunjin scoffs, dropping a hand to trail his fingers over the curve of her hip. All softness having melted from his face, he now leans closer to whisper in her ear, “Are you sure that it’s going to be big softie Hyunjin who’s gonna make you cum all over his fingers?”
Well, he’s got her there; she visibly trembles in response to the boldness of his tantalizing statement, only able to stare back at him with wide eyes when he leans back to soak up her reaction. “Cat got your tongue?” He purrs, exceedingly proud of himself for having rendered her silent with shock. Enough talking, he decides, reaching for her hand and tugging her away from the kitchen island and into the living room where she stumbles after him like a rag doll.
“Is this okay?” Hyunjin asks gently again once she is seated on his lap, straddling his thighs between her own— when did that happen? His fingers digging into the softness of her upper thighs when he grabs her hips brings her focus back to the present and suddenly all of her senses are on fire; oh, he looks absolutely glorious beneath her, cheeks flushed warm and pink, tufts of dried hair fallen over the dark pools of his eyes that seem to hold galaxies within them. “M’perfect. You’re perfect,” she sighs, euphoria having melted her brain into a pile of incoherent mush and the knot in her stomach only winches tighter when his large hands trail dangerously close to where she wants him most.
Just as she begins to gather her wits to the situation she has found herself in, there comes a brilliant flash of white from outside the windows that flickers and dies like an almighty camera flash that blankets everything at once. Not even a heartbeat later the rolling boom of thunder reverberates overheard, the untamed power effectively rattling the entire house and she subconsciously clings tighter to him until the rumble dwindles past. When she opens her eyes once more, she is marginally closer than before the very heavens had split apart and Hyunjin smiles comfortingly at her, seizing the opportunity to move his hands back to cup her face before closing the distance and planting his lips on hers.
Despite having been caught so off guard, warmth blooms in her chest and she is dizzy with joy, every cell of her being vibrating in overwhelming elation when Hyunjin’s hot mouth melds to her own, the tip of his tongue prodding at the seam of her lips when she whines quietly into the kiss. What starts off soft and slow quickly turns into something more urgent, fueled by an intense fervor growing within her and it’s his lips, she decides, biting down on the supple flesh and drawing a whimper from his mouth to be muffled into hers.
“I could say the same about you,” Hyunjin finally replies to her unintentional compliment after pulling away, licking a stripe up the side of her throat before settling underneath her jaw to suck a tender mark, “that first night we met. At the bowling alley,” he pauses his biting with a sharp intake of breath when her wandering hands graze delicately beneath his belly button, “you were so cute, I didn’t know how to act around you. You’re always cute.”
She halts her movements at his words, sitting back on her haunches as a flush creeps up her face. “So you don’t remember seeing me before that?” She grins, reaching forward to run her fingers through his bangs.
“Before that?” Hyunjin asks skeptically, brows drawn together.
“Chan’s New Year’s party,” she chuckles, bending to kiss the mole along the curve of his neck, “that was the first time I saw you,” then the one on his jaw, “kind of been head over heels for you since.” When she plants a heartfelt peck on his reddened lips, he pouts back at her and she simply cannot fight the urge to kiss him again, licking at his bottom lip. “What’s a matter?”
“I’m sorry, how could I have not noticed you?” He actually apologizes, reaching for her waist and pulling her impossibly closer, although all it essentially does is drag her sensitive center roughly over his bathing suit bottoms. He does not miss the soft gasp that escapes her, his grip instinctively clutching harder in a weak attempt to keep himself grounded. “Can I make it up to you?” He proposes before she has even replied, a suggestive tilt to his voice and all she can do is nod, putty in his hands.
“Oh, God,” this is really happening, she sighs blissfully, weightless in his arms when he lifts her from his lap to gently lay her back down against the cool leather sofa cushions. It does not take long for him to join her once more, hovering dangerously close above her and she hardly manages to swallow past the lump in her throat, praying that he cannot hear the dizzying staccato of her heart slamming against her ribcage. “You okay?” Hyunjin asks softly, balancing his weight on one arm beside her when he reaches up first to brush hair away from her face, and then to trace the swell of her bottom lip.
“Yeah,” she sums, kissing the pad of his finger, “you’re just like… insanely, strikingly handsome. You make my heart go boom boom. I still think I’m dreaming.” Nice one. Real smooth.
His boyish giggle in response is a direct attack to her heart, and yet it still is not enough to prepare her for the embarrassed flush working itself across his cheeks. Oh. He then proceeds to bury his face in her neck to hide his shattered facade, flustered more than he would have liked to admit when trying to finger the girl he’s madly in love with.
“See? You’re like… perfect. Can’t you feel my heart? Earlier I was seriously hoping we would fuck but now I don’t even want to, I could just stare at you all day,” she spews honestly—what’s the point in holding back when this was the kind of response she would get?
“Oh my God,” he whines sheepishly, kissing hotly at her shoulder, “you make my life really difficult.”
“Imagine how I feel,” she huffs, swinging an arm over him to lovingly run her fingers up and down the burning skin of his back. Warm. He made her feel warm all over.
Hyunjin truly, literally whimpers in response to her soft ministrations; however, the amatory heat burning in his abdomen clearly has not left his mind and twists the notion into something much different as he mindlessly ruts against her center, a muffled groan escaping him at the partial relief and ultimately ruining the softness of the moment. “Oh,” she gasps, lifting her hips to meet his next upstroke in time with the wind picking up beyond the safety of his embrace, howling and crying and baying like a wolf into the night.
“Shit,” he grunts in her ear, the bulge of his length beneath his swim trunks dragging deliciously at just the right spot through her own bottoms, leaving her lightheaded and longing for something more, “do you mind?” He asks, breathless.
“Of course not,” she hums, spreading her legs further to give him better access.
“Fuck, you’re the best. I won’t last long, I’ve had blue balls for like, an hour,” Hyunjin laughs lightly before continuing his ministrations, keeping himself balanced above her as he rolls his hips to meet hers. A strangled grunt deep from the back of his throat leaves his parted lips and she decides she absolutely will never hear or watch anything hotter with the way he drags his clothed length over her.
No matter how much he shudders in pleasure, he seems to struggle to meet that perfect, earth shattering angle, and so she offers a hand—literally—and reaches to palm him. “F-fuck,” he hisses, movements grown shaky and sloppy with her squeezing him so tightly through the material of his trunks. She tries her best at dragging her hand up and down his shaft with the limited space, pressing specifically at the tip in time with him thrusting into her palm. No matter how shitty it is, it seems to do the job for how far gone he is, head thrown back and body trembling as he comes inside his boxers with a sharp moan. Disgusting, and he’ll probably regret it later, but right now it’s a breath of fresh air. Plus, it’s pretty hot that his dream girl 1) just let him hump her and 2) gave him a rushed handjob through his pants that still made him cum.
After a long minute to compose himself, he presses a grateful, messy kiss to her lips that ends up being more of a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Then, like the perfect gentleman he is, Hyunjin lifts himself up to gaze at her longingly once again and asks with heavy-lidded eyes, “Let me go down on you?”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head and she thanks the heavens she is not standing or else she most certainly would have toppled to the ground under the weight of his words and the hoarseness of his voice. “Do you want to clean up first?” She asks fretfully. Truthfully, it’s more to give her another minute to mentally prepare herself.
“I’ll deal with it later,” Hyunjin grins like the little devil-angel he is before kissing her again, silencing her worries with his tongue wrapping around hers and it oh so unfairly becomes hot and messy and titillating again, driving her closer to an edge she had not seen the warning signs for. This time her fingers thread through his hair, pushing back mussed bangs to rest her forehead against his as they share a labored breath. When he begins his journey south, he trails down her throat and punctuates each suck and nip on her skin with an openmouthed kiss, ravishing all the way over the swell of her breasts and down her abdomen until it seems as if every inch of her skin is glistening with moisture and dotted with tender marks.
Hyunjin shifts his weight in order to scoot down the length of her frame, this time resting so much closer to where she so desperately needs him to be. One scorching hand drags up her thigh, carefully hooking around the elastic of her bottoms and she weakly raises her hips to help him yank them down her legs. No matter how much of a struggle it is to get them down to her knees, they manage nonetheless and she rids the flimsy garment with an anxious kick once they reach her ankles.
“Just remember,” Hyunjin rasps after hooking her legs over his shoulders, thumb ghosting over her clit and her body jumps for it, “Bang Chan didn’t make you this wet. I did. All me, right?” He’s practically growling at this point, not patient enough to wait for her answer and opting to go straight for the kill with his mouth suckling around her clit harshly. “Oh, Jesus. Fuck,” she whines, hips raising to follow the warmth of his tongue but his free hand quickly presses them back down. “Yes. You. All you,” she gasps out, hardly able to form a response at this point when all she can focus on is the way her body swells as his lips draw her forward, sucking long and hard.
“F-fuck, shit,” she whines, an intense buzz pumping hotly through her veins and fueling the fire in her gut with him practically sucking the life out of her. Somewhere in between him licking a slow strip up her slit and his fingers prodding teasingly at her entrance, all her mind can think of is the ‘fuck, go back’ meme— Hyunjin on the average day, just existing as his ethereal, exquisite, heavenly, goofy, dramatic self is already overwhelming. But thisHyunjin? And his stupid tongue and godsent lips?
It’s more than she can handle.
The infelicitous thought quickly slips her mind when Hyunjin more comfortably resituates himself in order to push two fingers past her walls at an agonizingly slow pace. With a strangled mewl, her hands instantly fly to tangle in his hair, raking through the strands for dear life when he immediately curls those long fingers of his, rubbing upward, stroking that hidden gem of a spot. “Hyunjin,” she can’t keep her voice down anymore, moaning the last bit loudly before biting her bottom lip to taper it into labored breathing.
“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Hyunjin compliments when he comes up for air, breaking away with a noisy pop that leaves her arms trembling violently, “also, really, really fucking hot. You’re gonna date me after this, right?” He adds as a nervous afterthought, the tempo of his fingering picking up as he rocks his hand against her, his palm grinding against that one sweet nerve until her body seizes in sweet pleasure. “I— wait, fuck, you’re asking me out?” She hisses with a furious blush and one too many emotions swelling in her chest, the jitters rising in waves when he tucks his face back between her legs and laves his tongue over her again and again.
“Oh, God,” she sighs shakily, back arching and following the motions of his tongue— the long lapping motions, the hard swallows, the tight sucking. All of it. She’s drawing closer to an edge she is not prepared for, thighs perpetually quivering and skin tingling in a frenzy of static wherever he touches, one hand gripping her hip like an anchor, the other insistently flicking her clit, his tongue stroking inside of her, warm and wet. “Come on, baby,” Hyunjin purrs against her folds, the vibration winding the coil tighter before he switches to quickly pump his fingers into her and to press his tongue roughly against her sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing her to her climax.
Ensuring she rides out the entirety of her orgasm on his tongue, Hyunjin tightly grips her thighs to keep her legs spread, lapping and sucking lewdly, shamelessly at her cunt like a man starved. Her hips buck and jolt as the sickly-sweet warmth burns and grows and grows until it is consuming her whole, ecstasy and relief flooding her from head to toe as her orgasm washes over her. She feels hollow and jittery all over by the time the frenzy of sensations fades into nothing but a tender throbbing in her core, as if all her nerves are worn and frayed at the ends and leaving her as a pile of mush.
“How ya doing?” Hyunjin peeps from between her legs after a few moments of waiting for her to come back to reality, one hand on her hipbone and the other at her inner thigh, soothingly massaging her skin to ease her back from the high. Something about the genuine concern etched on his features paired with her own arousal glistening on his chin and lips has the butterflies in her stomach roaring to life, heart doing somersaults in her chest and she smiles softly, reaching for his hand and tugging for him to come closer. “Are you sure you’re the same Hyunjin from the bowling alley?” She laughs airily against his lips, blinking up at him with wide eyes. His beauty is not an easy thing to comprehend, she reminds herself with a thumb tracing the soft curve of his jaw.
“I told you I’m not just a softie,” Hyunjin says with a dramatic huff followed by that cheeky smile of his, lowering his head to gently rub his nose against hers in an eskimo kiss and oh, he certainly has her heart now if he hadn’t before. She reaches up to actually kiss him this time, hoping to distract him from the painfully obvious blush blooming across her cheekbones, and once more the entire world is spinning when he gently cups her face and slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss.
“Just for you, though,” he randomly adds when they separate, diverting her focus away from the taste of herself on his tongue and how sinfully good of a kisser he is. “Hm?” She ponders with a tilt of her head, hand resting at the nape of his neck to twirl a finger into his hair. “I’m just a softie for you,” Hyunjin elaborates, dramatically collapsing on top of her and the weight of him pushes all the air from her lungs.
“Oh,” she heaves, freeing her arms trapped underneath him and wrapping them around his wide shoulders with a tight squeeze, “that’s good. I bet I’m softer for you, though.”
“Incorrect.”
“No, correct.”
“I just had my tongue up your coochie, can’t you just give this one to me?” Hyunjin scoffs and finally rolls off of her, reaching for the floor with an ungraceful flail of his long noodle legs before finding the hardwood and standing up. “Right. Sorry. About that,” she coughs, leaning up and ignoring the mess between her thighs in favor of glancing to his own semi-hard… problem, “do you want me to return the service?” After all, that shitty handjob was not the best depiction of talent.
“Are you offering to suck my coochie? Thanks, but I’m good,” he answers nonchalantly, nevertheless he reaches beneath the waistband of his bottoms to readjust himself right in front of her and she instinctively glances away, embarrassment creeping up her neck. Even though he just ate her out. Whatever.
“Never mind, you’re stupid,” she grumbles, stumbling to her feet once her limbs realize they have to do their job to grab her bottoms thrown haphazardly across the room. “Hey! Be nice to your boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now?” She challenges, shimmying the material up her legs before standing to face him with a smirk painted on her face. “Technically I never said yes.”
Hyunjin gasps. “Damn, guess I get to tell everyone I played you, then,” he smirks right back at her like the cocky shit he is, turning away after slipping into his t-shirt to get his phone and keys from the kitchen. “No! Wait! I was just kidding,” she lunges for him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his back, “I like you. A lot, as you can tell. If you actually want to date me, well, then, you know how I feel.”
“___,” he soothes, detaching her arms in order to spin around and face her, “I’m not going to just hook up with someone who I know likes me. I’d be dumber than a doorbell, too, if I didn’t y’know… maybe have a little crush on you too. Which is why I want you to be my girl. I don’t want to do cute shit with anyone else but you. Like, pick our toe jam to compare it and stuff.”
“Wait, you have toe jam?”
“Exaggerated joke, ___.”
“Oh,” she giggles, leaning up to kiss the beauty mark on his neck again, “anyway. Dating. So, you’re my boyfriend?”
“I think it works something like that,” his full lips practically disappear when he grins toothily, large hands coming back to cup her face, “can I get a goodbye kiss?” She hums in instant agreement, meeting him halfway to press her lips against his, one, two, three gentle pecks before his tongue tantalizingly darts out to swipe against the seam of her lips and effectively painting her insides with fireworks.
“Hey,” she warns, jabbing a finger to his chest to stop him but immediately softening up at the sound of rain pounding on the roof as if demanding entrance, “I mean… you could always stay until the storm passes.”
“Are you asking because you’re worried about me driving safely or because you just want to sit around and kiss all night?”
“Hm, well, maybe a little bit of both,” she admits with a sheepish smile. He’s just too irresistible to pass up. Hyunjin beams brighter than any star in the galaxy before pulling her back into him, “Greedy. You’re lucky my heart goes boom boom for you too.”
(And Hwang Hyunjin’s heart does not lie.)
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mushroommushy · 3 years
Text
Enter Bunnix
Rogercop
- It’s still parent career day for all of the class
- Alim would’ve showed up for this (I don’t know why he didn’t in canon he was available?)
- But Alix had come down with a nasty cold
- A lot of dizziness, coughing and stuffy nose
- Fluff was very worried about the poor girl
Fluff: Alix are you ok?!
Alix, between her coughs: I’ll be fine fluff..just need some rest.
- Alim was making sure she stayed in bed and took the day off to take care of her
- As was Jalil since there was no way that she could stop an Akuma like this if it happened
- Anarka really didn’t wanna be there since Roger was and she hates him but oh well
- She wasn’t gonna bail on Juleka
- Otis and Marlena both showed up
- Mari then arrived with her dad
- Fred Haprele was there, as he was already a teacher in the school
- Gerald and Gabriel never showed up
- Anarka and Roger were glaring at each other the entire time
- Nathaniel was recording the class as well to send to Alix later
- Tom got Marinette to hand out some croissants to the class
- Chloe pulled out her bracelet again and her dad told her to put it away like in canon
Marinette: Uh..Wheres Alix?
Mylene: Oh, she texted me that she’s really sick this morning. So she’s staying home today.
Marinette: Ah..I’ll go by her house later and drop some stuff off for her then
- This was a bit nerve wracking for her
- One out of three hero’s being sick
- Even more of a problem if she had accidentally gave it to her or Chat
- Chloe had overheard Mylene saying that and started feeling bad for her
- Adrien was also worried about her
- Plagg saw Chloe’s box and went over to see if it was camembert because he’s stupid
- He realized it wasn’t but still decided it was a good idea to play around with it
- This ended with him getting stuck and Mari tripping over it
- We get a short Adrinette moment of him helping her up
Marinette, internally: I still hear her voice..
Alix: Stop making out with your eyes and do it with your mouths you weirdos.
- Roger was acting extremely entitled and Sabrina just wanted to pretend she wasn’t his kid at this point
- As well as wishing Alix hadn’t gotten sick so that she had Alim to rely on
Sabrina: Why can’t Alim be here right now..
- When Chloe noticed her bracelet was gone, she didn’t try to accuse anyone and just spoke up that it wasn’t in her bag
- Andre however, immediately yelled for Roger to search every student
- Which is very much illegal for him to do
- Roger refused to this like canon because he’d be screwed if his boss found out
- Andre then proceeded to ‘fire’ him
- Something he can’t actually do because he doesn’t have that kind of power
- Only Roger’s boss does
- Roger threw a fit and stomped out of the classroom and down to his car
- Where he was akumatized into Rogercop
- Tom was very much furious at the accusation of his daughter by the mayor
- He didn’t really give a damn who he was
- Caline was desperately trying to get them to calm down
- Anarka was really just glad Roger was fired because it meant she wouldn’t be harassed anymore
Anarka: Karma served on a gold platter, bastard. I should try to get his kid..
- She had told Luka about it too
Luka, looking at his phone: *Cheers in the middle of his class before sitting down*
- Yeah he got some odd looks but he’s a Couffaine so it’s just expected
- Andre tried to demand for Nino to hand over his phone
- Nino was literally dumbstruck because no? That’s his personal property
- Marlena frantically putting notes not to vote for this guy ever again
- Fred just standing next to Mylene with a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down
- Mrs. Mendeleiev getting her punishment and being very much pissed
- But she kinda deserves it
- Don’t be a jerk to Nathaniel
- Andre was demanding for Mr. Damocles to show up
- Marinette had a pretty good feeling this was gonna end up with an akuma
- She was right
- Adrien had noticed that Plagg was stuck in the bracelet and was pissed
- Rightfully so since that was a stupid thing to do
- He was even more angry knowing he couldn’t transform after he saw Rogercop
- D’Argencourt was the one to get the running punishment since Fred was inside
- Because Bunnix is already down and now he can’t transform either?
- So he had to run home as fast as he could to get some pepper to get him out
- Because him having pepper somehow in his locker isn’t realistic
- Marinette didn’t try to pretend Adrien was innocent since he was just as easily a suspect
Kim: I want an attorney!
Max: W..What..??
- Literally the entire class sweats as Rogercop catches them lying
- Thankfully he didn’t do anything
- Marinette and Adrien both transformed
- Chat got to the school a little after Ladybug first confronted Rogercop
- Andre of course acted like a coward and fled
- Chloe never approached him because she is not that stupid
- By how, Alya had announced that there was another akuma on the ladyblog
- Jalil was freaking out about this
- When Alix got the notification, she forced herself out of bed and went to his room
Alix, nearly tripping: J-Jalil?
Jalil: *Immediately helping her* Alix, what are you doing! Go sit back down!
- She pulled out her pocket watch and handed it to him, telling him he needed to stop the akuma
- Right before she passed out
- This stressed him out a lot
- He had no experience or idea of what to do
- Thankfully Fluff was there to help him, explaining his powers and what to do
- Another problem is that Jalil can’t fight very well
- He did know basic moves thanks to Nora but besides a general idea of some of Nora’s favorite take down methods he didn’t know anything
- After getting a better idea of how to use his powers, he transformed
- He goes by Tu Shen using the rabbit
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- At the time, Ladybug and Chat were failing horribly at fighting him
- Without their usual third member they found it a lot harder
- Tu Shen was trying to get to them, but was struggling since he wasn’t exactly used to jumping across buildings
- Plus a bit of a fear of heights kicking in
Tu Shen, literally shaking: Alix, how the fuck do you do this on a daily basis. You have won my respect even more my god..
- Tu Shen was not expecting to see a fight going on in the middle of the sky on top of a flying car
- Thinking about his sister doing that was even more of a doozy
- Tu Shen was actually the one who caught Ladybug
- She was not expecting to fall into a burrow portal
Ladybug: ..The burrow..? But Alix is sick!
- That’s when she was dropped back out and met Tu Shen
- She actually tried to attack him at first
Tu Shen: Ow! Ow! Ok, stop please!!
Ladybug: WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER.
- She was very unhappy before realizing that it was just Jalil when he detransformed shortly
- Since he was older, Fluff could feed off of his own energy instead of needing a snack
- Something she couldn’t do with Alix
- Jalil can use burrow three times before detransforming
- He still has a limit since he’s still pretty young
- We still get Chat hanging upside down when Rogercop drops him!
- He tried to attack Tu Shen too seeing him
- Thankfully Ladybug grabbed his tail and explained
- The three of them showed up to stop Rogercop, meeting him at the city hall
- The cops (I can’t exactly tell what their rank is I apologize) don’t attack the team
Cops: Uh..no..? You are an Akuma..?
- Rogercop however used his power to make them attack the hero’s
- We get a very cute dancing scene from Tu Shen and Chat while they kick ass together
- Literally punch a cop in the face and continue dancing
- Just some brotherly love here everyone
- Alya got that on camera and Paris loves it so much
- Thankfully Chloe didn’t shout to Ladybug this time while being held hostage
- Because she isn’t that stupid
- It’s just that Rogercop heard the loud ass door crack open
- Once all the cops were taken care of, Tu Shen and Chat joined Ladybug in handling Rogercop
- Hawkmoth was very much confused about this older rabbit hero’s appearance
- So was everyone else in Paris at the time
- Tu Shen was able to set up his three burrow openings around Rogercop and bounce in between all of them, hitting from all sides and overwhelming him
Tu Shen, internally: Nora you are a godsend thank you for trying to teach me.
- This was enough of a distraction for Ladybug to get the glove over his head and break the whistle
- Roger was deakumatized
- The bracelet situation was cleared up and Roger was not fired (sadly and much to Anarka’s disappointment)
- Tu Shen was later given an interview to explain who he was by Alya
- He becomes a favorite among the gays because he’s such an awkward and dorky nerd
- He’s also Theo’s favorite hero
- Jalil was later very excited about that
- Alix was so freaking proud of her brother since he did an amazing job
- Tu Shen becomes known as the big brother of the team since he’s super sweet towards them
- He feels the protect the children instincts like he does with the rich kids
- Because these are teens fighting super villains damnit they need support
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softboywriting · 5 years
Text
Welcome To The Pack | Mendes Triplets Series | Part Ten | Raul’s Ending
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Summary: You’re a human who has moved in with the Mendes triplets as their newest housemate. You’ll have to learn to navigate life with werewolves, college classes, and your feelings for each guy. [fluff] [rauls ending] [drinking] [biting]
Word Count: 3.4k
|Masterlist In Bio|
Finding yourself three drinks down at a party is unlike you. You rarely drink and when you do it's usually in a much more controlled environment, aka, your own bedroom at home. You aren't sure why you took the first drink from the host, a girl named Amy who invited you and the boys after Shawn's game. Maybe you wanted to relax. Maybe you wanted to escape the stress of school and finals. Maybe, just maybe you want to escape the feelings you're having towards the guys. It's been a wild ride the last few weeks and so many mixed signals have been thrown around you aren't sure what's what.
By the second drink you were feeling loose. Warm in your tummy and throughout your veins. You started dancing, moving with the crowd in the living room. It felt good, free.
After your third drink, something super sweet and heavily liquored, you find yourself crashing. Probably the sugar, or alcohol, or maybe you're just  exhausted from dancing. You find yourself now, collapsed on a couch watching people around you get increasingly more rowdy. You haven't seen Shawn or Raul in ages it seems. Peter came by you not too long ago to get some water in the kitchen but you didn’t say anything to him. Suddenly you feel panicked, alone, scared and drunk around a bunch of strangers.
You catch a glimpse of Raul near the stairs. You're not sure how you know it's him, you just do. "Raul." Your voice sounds horrible and you've got some burning in your throat. "Raul!"
Raul turns and spots you on the couch. He walks over and sinks down beside you. "You called?"
"I need you."
"Oh?"
You stare at him with half lidded eyes, everything a little blurry. He looks flushed, hair a mess from running his hands through it too much. A bad habit of his. "I was scared. I realized I don't know anybody."
Raul takes your hand. "I'm here."
You smile weakly. "Can we go somewhere quiet?"
"It is too loud, huh?" He pushes himself up and grabs your hands, pulling you up into his chest. He wraps his arms around you. "Wanna go outside?"
"But it's cold?"
"Not on the porch, there are heaters. Come on." Raul walks you to the screen door to the porch. Sure enough it's warms like he said. There is a heat lamp in the corner emitting waves of warmth across the screened in porch. There is no one out there surprisingly. "Take a seat," he says, plopping down on a cushioned bench.
As you move to sit down he stops you, hand on your back. "What? Something wrong?"
"Sit here." He pats his lap and you give him a wary look, unsure of the implications it may bring. "I said sit."
You waste no time and plop down across his legs. He runs a hand up your back, his other finding your jaw and gently turning your face towards him. "Your fangs are out," you giggle, touching his lower lip.
He grins lazily, showing off the prominent teeth in question. "Drinking makes it hard to control my features." He twists a bit of your hair around his fingers and tugs a little. "I don't usually drink, I don't like how I get."
"Me neither." You cup his jaw, thumb sliding over the dark dusting of stubble there and he leans into your hand, playfully biting at your palm. "You're so gorgeous."
His eyes slowly turn a rich dark honey color. You know egging him on like this is risky in his loose state, but you can't help yourself. He looks so good and so...wild. "Is this why you wanted to go somewhere quiet?" He asks, pulling his cheek away from your hand.
"Hmm?" You slide your hand into his hair instead. "Is what why?"
"This," he presses his head against your hand. "The petting."
"Petting?" You giggle, now toying with him. You run your fingers through his short messy loose curls. "I didn't know I was petting you."
He growls, eyes rolling back as you scratch along his scalp. "Stop."
"Make me." You grip his hair and tug as he grabs your leg harshly.
"You wanna play games?" He asks roughly, voice wrecked with lust as he opens his eyes and meets yours. "You shouldn't do this with me."
"I can't resist." You tug his hair again, eliciting a loud groan before you slide off his lap. You step back and he stands, body language tense. "Will you play a game with me then?"
"No."
You bite your lip and he gives you a look. "So if I run and hide, you won't chase me?"
"I didn't say that."
"Oh?" You step back toward the open screen door. "Well I guess I'll just..." You take off into the house and you can hear Raul behind you. Your heart races, pounding hard in your chest as you push through groups of people. You get to the stairs and take them two at a time as you run up them to escape him. It's no good, you’re too slow and stumbly in your tipsy state, he's right behind you. You dodge into a bedroom and that's the end. You feel him before you see him, his warmth along your back as he corners you, hands on your waist.
"Is this how it's gonna be?" He asks, mouth on your neck. "You're gonna make me hunt you down if I want you?"
"You like it."
Raul growls and sinks his teeth into the back of your neck. It sends a thrill followed by an ache through your body. Something about the way bites like you're his, it makes you weak. "Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to bite you, to chase you down and punish you for pulling my hair?"
"I'm not going to say no to that."
Raul pulls back and you turn around. He looks absolutely out of his mind. His teeth are showing, eyes fully changed. He looks borderline terrifying but you like it. You never thought you would but seeing him like this is doing something for you. You want that wild side of him. It’s so much different than anyone else you’ve ever been with.
"You should go." Raul says, looking down.
"Why? We were just messing around. It’s just for fun and-"
"I can't hurt you. I can't get involved right now. Not like this." He steps away toward the door. "I'm sorry."
Just like that you're alone. It hurts. You thought things were going well, that you were playing with him and he was playing back. You thought maybe for once you had fully broken down that wall he keeps building around himself. You wish you could fight it, you wish you could stop feeling something for him everytime you see him. It's like two steps forward and three steps back. Just when you think you have a good chance, he pulls away. You need to talk to him, sober and in a good mood, you have to lay it all out and serve your heart up on a silver platter. Either he'll reject you or he'll feel the same and you'll have made the best decision of your entire life. You know deep down that he's a good guy, that he has a heart of gold and he cares about you. It's just a matter of getting to it.
___________________
The day after the party you wake up and you’re hungover. You feel like shit and everything just feels off. You suspect it’s probably the four shots you had after Raul ghosted you. Or maybe it’s the lack of sleep you got. Either way, something feels heavier about the world today and it’s not just because you’re hungover. You make your way downstairs for some food around ten, having laid in bed and watched some videos about how crayons and cookie cutters are made just because it caught your attention and numbed your mind for a while.
The house is oddly quiet for a Saturday morning. Usually Shawn is awake and running around like a mad man getting ready to go to practice, but since the game was on a Friday that isn’t happening. Shawn doesn’t even seem to be home judging by the lack of his Jeep in the driveway. You pass Peter’s room on the way downstairs and it’s open. He is nowhere in sight for either.
When you enter the kitchen you find Raul sitting at the table sketching something. He stops when you walk in and then resumes momentarily as if to finish something. He’s not the first person you want to talk to after last night.
"You feeling okay?" He asks, looking up once more, eyes sweeping over your no doubt disheveled pajamas.
"Kinda hungover."
"Oh."
"I'm just not feeling right.”
Raul stands and grabs you a mug for coffee while you dig through the fridge for whatever you can find to snack on. He’s quiet for a moment while he sets up the single cup brewer and you’re afraid that the awkwardness of last night is getting to him.
Finally he says something. "I know painting always helps me when I'm in a mood. I just grab some colors and do whatever I feel. Sometimes it's something like roses and other still life, but other times it's just a hand full of paint and I go apeshit on a canvas."
"That actually sounds kind of fun."
"Here." He hands you a cup of freshly brewed coffee and two sugar packets, the way you like it. "Wanna try it out?"
“Sure.” You cradle the mug in your hands and take a sip. A perfect dark roast. That single cup brewer was the best thing Raul ever bought for the house. “Why not?
Raul leads you upstairs and hands you an old shirt of his that is covered in paint spots. He goes to grab his paint, a huge caddy of different tubes in varying shades. He sets the paint down and grabs the tin cup of brushes for you too. “Okay, so just do whatever you want.”
“Hmm.” You set your mug down on his dresser and look at the two blank canvases he has against the wall. One is quite large, probably kind of expensive. You don’t want to go for that one in case he’s planning on using it for something. The other canvas is good sized, probably half your height. “You’re sure?” you ask, turning and facing Raul. “I can use one of these?”
“Yeah, go for it. I’d love to have an original by you.”
“What if it’s ugly?”
“It’s never ugly if you truly love it.” Raul smiles and you turn back to the canvases. “Go on, don’t be scared.”
“I’m not scared.” You grab a tube of blue paint and a brush. There is a small pallet that looks like one Raul used recently, it’s not been cleaned off yet and the paint is dried on. You grab it and squeeze some paint onto it. “I don’t know what to do.”
Raul walks up behind you and brackets your body with his own, hands coming around your wrists. He guides your hand with the brush into the paint and then to the canvas. “Just...like this.” He guides your brush down and then up and to the side. He pauses, mid stroke and you before you can ask what is wrong he mumbles a soft,  “I’m sorry.”
“What?” You look back at him and he tugs down the back of the neck of your shirt.
“Your skin is bruised from when I bit you.”
“Oh.” You reach back and try to feel for anything out of the ordinary. “It doesn’t hurt. I think it must just be broken blood vessels.”
Raul holds your shoulders and leans into kiss your neck. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I’m not hurt. It’s just a mark.”
He makes a noise of protest but doesn’t say anything.
You dip your brush back into the paint and touch it to the canvas. “I’m not making anything. Shouldn’t I painting be like...purposefully?” You ask, attempting to change the subject back to painting.
“It is purposeful.” He steps back and you paint on a few more nonsensical blue lines. “What do you feel?”
“Confused.”
“No, like deep down. You said you weren’t feeling the best today. Show me.” Raul places the paint caddy closer. “Show me, and don’t tell me.”
You look to him and he has his arms crossed, watching you intently. It’s a little intimidating. You grab black from the bucket and squeeze a dollop on to the pallet. The brush streaks the black along as you paint a little curl. Everything feels too formal. It feels like you’re trying too hard to make something good. That isn’t the point. You drop the brush and stick your hand in the paint on the pallet, palm half blue and half black. You smear it down the center of the spots you painted with the brush. It feels good.
“There you go.”
You grab red, purple and the black again. You squeeze the paint directly on your hand and press it to the white bits of canvas over and over until the paint is mostly off your hand. The whole thing is a mess. A smile spreads across your face and you can’t stop it. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation is too fun and it’s really helping you ease the tension from last night. “Raul, I need your hand.”
“Mine?” He steps closer and holds his hand out palm up for you. “What for?”
“Art.” You put some purple on his palm and spread it around with your fingertips until it’s covered. “Put yours on there.”
Raul presses his purple hand to the canvas and pulls away, leaving a big print. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Yeah.” You mix some purple and blue in your hand for a darker blue and you make a bunch of hand prints around Raul’s. Minutes pass and you just keep adding more and more paint, destroying some hand prints and making others. You always leave Raul’s perfectly intact. It’s the centerpiece, the reason for your painting. “I think I’m done.” You say after there is no white canvas left. “I feel better.”
“Good. It looks great.” Raul pulls you back by your shoulders and you take a few steps back with him. “I love it."
"It's like a kindergarten project."
"No. It's art. It's your expressive piece, don't be negative because it's not some big complicated detailed painting." Raul moves around you and grabs a brush. "You have to sign it."
You push the brush away and grab the white paint. You look to Raul as you cover your hand. He's smiling, a look of pure joy on his face. Your heart skips as he moves closer, hand outstretched.
"You've got some hair in your face. Can I?"
"Please."
Raul brushes your hair back and cups your cheek. His other hand, the one with the purple paint rests on your neck, thumb over your pulse point. There is no doubt he can feel your heart pounding. "Your eyes are beautiful."
"They are?"
"Mmhmm." He stares, eyes heavy lidded and you can't help but try to look away. "They're my favorite color.”
“Y-yeah?”
“Hey, look at me." He says softly and you do. "Don't be embarrassed."
"I-I'm not....and if you love my eye color so much why have you never showed me what you painted with it?"
"I'll show you. I promise." Raul slides his hand from your cheek into your hair. His eyes leave yours for just a moment to look to your lips. They feel dry and you're suddenly very aware of that so you lick them just as he looks. You're sure it is sending a very suggestive message, one you aren’t going to revoke.  "Can I kiss you?" He asks.
"Yes."
He leans in and you bring your hand up to lay on his chest. His heart is beating just a wildly as yours is. You're sure he's a nervous wreck under his cool exterior. You smile, chuckling a little and making him pull back just enough to keep his lips against yours.
"What?" He whispers, eyes meeting yours. "What's so funny?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Mmhmm. I knew you were a softie underneath it all." You bump his nose with yours and he pretends to curl his lip up at you. "I guess you're not as wild as you appear."
Raul adjusts the hand on your throat, pressing a bit and your mouth falls open just a little. "I'm as wild as I need to be, and you love it."
"I do." You murmur and he kisses you again, teeth sinking into your lip carefully as he tilts your head up for a deeper kiss. You lean into him, moaning a little as he licks into your mouth. He kisses like no one else you've been with before and you love it.
Raul pulls away. He smirks, eyes now on your neck. "Oops."
"What?" You reach up and touch your skin where his hand had been. There are remnants of purple on your fingertips. "Is there a handprint on my neck?"
He nods, biting his lip. "Sure is."
You point to his shirt where you laid your hand. There's a white hand print right over his heart. "You got a little something there too."
Raul looks down and pulls his shirt out. "Oh, looks like you left your mark on me."
"I guess we're even now for my neck."
"Mmm, but I plan on leaving a lot more marks on you." He steps forward and you stop him with your hand. “If you’ll let me.”
"Easy. I have to finish my painting." You look over and he does too. "And you have a painting to show me."
“I’ll go grab it.” Rauls says and turns to go out of his room.
You cover your hand in white paint again and press it to his purple hand print on the canvas. It’s smaller and you smile as you pull away. It’s a mess, a huge mess of colors and chaos but in the center of it all is those hand prints. It’s kind of a perfect metaphor for you and Raul.
“Hey, have you seen-”
You turn and see Peter standing in the doorway to Raul’s room with Shawn behind him. “Have I seen what?”
Shawn pulls Peter back by his shoulder and laughs. “Nothing, we were just looking for you. Wanted to make sure you got home okay last night.”
“Looks like you did,” Peter says and points to his neck. “You got a little...uh...paint on your neck right here.”
You bite your lip and nod. “Yeah, it’s Raul’s fault.”
“Oh. Because it looks like a hand...print.” Peter says softly as he realizes that it wasn’t an accident and a handprint like that means...well....could mean a more intimate situation. “We’ll be going.”
Raul pushes in to the room past the other two and he’s holding a canvas. “What do you guys want?”
“Nothing.” Shawn says, grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed. “We were just checking up on you guys.”
“We’re good, thanks guys.” Raul says with a chuckle, looking to you and holding up the painting. “Here...it is.” He walks toward you and stops, looking at your little white hand in his on the canvas. “You signed it.”
“I did.”
Raul hands you a small canvas and you take it with your clean hand. It’s a painting of you and all three boys, like a family portrait. It’s like staring at a photograph it’s so perfect. “I was going to give it to you for the holidays.” He says and you turn it over to see he’s signed the back. Below his name is the words, Welcome To The Pack. “But I promised I’d show it to you when it was done.”
“I love it.” You set it down and pull him close. “Thank you.”
He cups your face and kisses you gently. “No, thank you. I don’t know where I'd be if you hadn’t moved in. I can't imagine not falling for you and finding the softer side of myself again. I...I adore you.”
“I adore you too Raul.” You press your forehead to his and he closes his eyes. “I adore you too.”
End
_____________
Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. Next part coming soon! - A
Custom header per part made by the incredible delicateshawn
*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****
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forever--darling · 4 years
Text
not too far away - s.m. (part nine)
a/n: where they all celebrate the reader’s birthday to only hear some news they never were expecting
warnings: 9.6k words of fluff, birthday celebrations, and happy shawn
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IX. safe pair of hands
him 
Shawn was late. He knew he was but he had been stuck on a phone call meeting with Andrew and then afterwards changed his shirt three times. Even as he pulled up into the Y/L/N driveway he still wasn’t sure if he looked alright. He was in his normal black jeans with a white three-quarter button up polo that had light blue and navy blue detailing along the collar, the bottom of the sleeves, and down where the buttons were. A black watch adorned his left wrist and a black and orange beaded bracelet was on the other. A black ring was located on his ring finger on his right hand which he couldn’t stop fiddling with and his curls were muzzled with a little bit of gel. 
Shawn was usually a confident guy, he knew he looked good, but at that moment all he could feel was insecure and nervous. Maybe it was because finally out loud he was going to voice his feelings to Y/N that night or maybe it was because for the first time they were going to be around people as more than just two best friends. Either way, he was a stuttering, red-faced mess. 
The weather was fairly warm, the sun shining down, causing him to drive with sunglasses shielding his eyes. As he parked the car along the side of the street since the driveway was already full with cars, he taped his fingers against the steering wheel nervously as he eyed the house that appeared lit up from the outside. It was one thirty so Shawn was only an hour and a half late but still late nonetheless. 
He took a deep breath before he got out of the car and headed towards the front door of the very large house, a bouquet of light pink peonies and a small rectangular wrapped box in his hands. Stood on the doorstep, Shawn didn’t even bother to knock but just went in. It was quieter than he expected with just a few voices coming from the kitchen along with clinking from pots and pans. He ventured in further and as he peeked his head into the kitchen he instantly caught sight of his mom, Katherine, and a few of their family friends slaving over platters of food.
After Aaliyah had proposed the idea of the party, it only took a day later for Shawn to be presenting the idea to Katherine and Bradley which they easily accepted. For days, he helped them plan the food, the decorations, and the invites. He even had created the invites onto a website and ordered a bunch before sending them out. The original plan was to have the party be a surprise but Shawn knew that it would be better if Y/N was able to tell him who and who he shouldn’t invite. I mean he hadn’t been around her for years so he didn’t have a clue who she hangs around these days. 
At first, she seemed hesitant about the party and all the people that would be attending but warmed up to the idea faster than Shawn anticipated. Besides the guest list, Y/N didn’t know about anything else about the party. He took care of the rest with the help of her parents and Aaliyah who had begged Shawn to let her help. He was meant to be at the house early to help set up but his phone call had gone way longer than it was supposed to so here he was probably the last on there. 
He took a step into the kitchen and instantly could smell all of the food. From cheesy potatoes to caesar salad, pickle roll-ups, meatballs, and cheese bread. It seemed that any kind of food that Y/N liked filled the kitchen which happened to be a lot. Also in the corner of the room, Shawn could see all of the desserts that had been picked. Multiple trays of cupcakes and cookies filled the white platter, all the way to the top. He figured that the food hadn’t been served yet and that Brad and his father, Manny were still grilling all of the meats outside. 
“Shawn Mendes, it’s so nice of you to join us,” Katherine’s voice rang out as she stirred a pot of some kind of soup or maybe it was some sort of dip. 
Stepping further into the room, he offered an apologetic smile, “I know I’m late.” 
Karen sent her son a disapproving look, “You bet your ass you’re late.” 
“I’m sorry, my meeting with Andrew ran long over the phone and then I couldn’t find the right shirt to wear and it took me at least ten minutes to find a bouquet of peonies because the guy had to look in the back of the floral shop for them and I’m just sorry,” Shawn rambled as Katherine approached him with a wide smile. 
“Nonsense Karen, just be glad that he’s here,” Katherine smiled at the young boy as she pulled him in for a hug, whispering low in his ear, “Thank you for all of this. You’ve made Y/N so happy.” 
“Well, Y/N makes me really happy too,” he replied back to Y/N’s mother gaining a soft kiss on the cheek from the older woman. 
She released Shawn from the hug and wiped at her eyes that were starting to glaze over with tears as she took the bouquet of flowers from his hand, “I’ll put these in some water for her.” 
Katherine walked over towards the sink where she began to fill a vase with water as Shawn’s attention fell onto his mother who was smiling at her son with bright eyes and so much love. Her hand landed on his shoulder and her voice was filled with so much honesty, “I’m so proud of you my boy.” 
“It’s really nothing, Mom. I’m just doing what I can to make her day special.” Shawn shrugged as he placed the rectangular jewelry box into the back pocket of his jeans.  
Karen stroked her son’s cheek, “You’re doing a great job at that, everyone seems to be having a great time.” 
“Is everyone here already?” Shawn questioned the head craning out to get a look out the glass door towards the porch. 
“Yes pretty much everyone,” Karen smiled, “All of Y/N’s family came at noon and most of her friends arrived a little after that. The only person I haven’t seen is Lauren.” 
Shawn sucked in a breath at the name. He hadn’t talked or seen the girl since he had rejected her advances of getting back together. He never thought that when he was talking about the guest list with Y/N, that she would’ve wanted Lauren put on it. But Y/N’s reasoning was that for years as kids they had been really close friends and though their relationship sort of fell apart when Shawn began dating Lauren she wanted everyone she cared about to attend the party. Shawn knew there was a chance that for one day Lauren could’ve put her personal problems with him aside for one day, for Y/N but knew that there was a greater chance she would disregard the invite altogether. 
“Oh well,” Shawn mumbled eyes meeting his mother’s, ���Who knows maybe she’ll show later.” 
“Yeah maybe,” Karen agreed trying to keep her hopes up as well. 
Katherine had placed the flowers into a clear vase and had set them in the middle of the dark marble island before she motioned to the glass door that led out towards the porch, “Shawn, darling, everyone is outside and Y/N is playing a round of cards if you want to join.” 
“Okay, sounds good,” he said sending one last smile towards his mom as he made his way towards the door. 
As soon as he opened it and slid out onto the wooden porch the noise level had jumped. There were pink, white, and gold balloons tied in multiple places along the railings. Lights hung up around the porch waiting for the sun to go down to be turned on and underneath it all was a large glass table that extended over half the wooded area with six plastic chairs surrounding it. Every chair was filled with Y/N’s family members which Shawn instantly recognized from past gatherings except there was one guy who sat across the table next to Y/N’s grandfather and Demi that he had never seen before. They all sat with cards in their hands and there at the head of the table was Y/N with the smallest stack of cards out of everyone. 
“Three Kings,” Demi said from across the table. 
Instantly without a second to waste Y/N yelled from where she sat, “Bullshit!” 
“You’re such a little bitch,” Demi exclaimed laughter lacing in her words. 
Everyone at the table let out bellows and laughs as Demi reached towards the center of the table taking the stack of cards. She rolled her eyes towards Y/N who sent her a shit-eating grin. Shawn chuckled from where he stood in the doorway and one by one everyone began to notice his presence. 
“Shawn Mendes, well I’ll be damned,” The voice came from the spot next to Y/N which happened to be Y/N’s Uncle John, “Look at you all grown up!” 
Y/N’s head snapped up towards where her Uncle’s voice was directed to and as her eyes fell on Shawn, a large smile pulled at her lips. He sent her a small wink causing her cheeks to flush as the table chorused with multiple greetings. 
“Why don’t you pull up a chair and get in on this,” Uncle John said placing his cards face down on the table. 
“Actually it’s perfect timing,” Demi cut in standing from her spot at the table offering her cards to Shawn, “You can take my spot.” 
Counting the cards in his hand he scoffs, “Oh I see how it is, leave me with the most cards.” 
Demi pats his shoulder as she heads towards the door to go into the kitchen, “Well, sorry but can’t do much when you’re playing against Y/N.” 
“Ah we’ll see,” Shawn chuckled as he made his way towards the seat Demi had been sitting in which happened to be next to James when Y/N’s grandpa who was sitting on the other side of Y/N stood up. 
“Shawn, why don’t you take a seat here. Maybe ruffle some of Y/N’s feathers since I clearly am not doing the job,” Grandpa Arthur said teasingly, eyes set on the seat next to James. 
“You sure?” he asked as the older man who was dressed in a light tan sweater vest and had his white hair gelled into place passed him giving a small pat to his shoulder. 
“Yeah. Plus I think I’m going to go rough up on James a little,” Grandpa Arthur chuckled taking a seat next to the older Y/L/N sibling who had a large grin on his face. 
“Bring it on old man,” James sassed back gaining laughter from his grandfather. 
The whole table started to laugh at the bickering going on between the grandson and grandfather giving Shawn enough time to slip into the seat next to Y/N. “Hi,” she whispered towards him causing his whole stomach to flutter. 
As he took in her appearance up close he felt his breath get stuck in his throat at how stunning she looked. A sight for sore eyes, for sure. Her short hair was down and in loose curls that were tucked behind her ears revealing her double pierced lobe and one diamond earring that was a cartilage piercing. That’s new, Shawn thought to himself as his eyes took in the rest of her. Y/N was dressed in a short white off the shoulder dress that had small sunflowers littered across it with a pair of small nude heels. Her fingers were painted in white nail polish and she had a golden delicate necklace around her neck that had a short chain and was covered with small gold stars all the way around. Her makeup was bronzed, light, and glowing in the sunlight as it hit her face. Her skin was golden and shiny and Shawn’s eyes couldn’t help but wander across her exposed shoulders to her legs. He was sure that she was an angel. 
“Hi,” he whispered back, knee bumping hers under the table, “Sorry, I’m a bit late. You look beautiful by the way.” 
Her face flushed like it always did when Shawn complimented her and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and place a soft kiss on the heated skin but knew better than to with all the people that were around. “Thanks, but we both know flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned closer to her.
“It means I’m about to beat your ass in a round of Bullshit,” she challenged with a smile on her face. 
Shawn fell back against the plastic lawn chair, hand gripping his chest as multiple ooh’s surrounded the table at Y/N’s words. Sending her a cheeky grin, his eyes fell onto the blackboard that was rolled up behind his chair. That thing had been around for years and it built his ego every time he saw it. He bit onto his lower lip and instantly noticed the way Y/N’s eyes diverted to them. “Alright, whatever you say but maybe you should take a look back at the board again to see whose name is at the top.” 
The chalk was starting to fade but it was still legible. There at the top in blue was Shawn’s name with a large star next to it. Y/N’s was right below his with fewer tallies next to her name than his had. Every game of bullshit played, the winner would get a tally, and after all this time Shawn’s name still appeared to have the most. 
Silence filled the table as they watched the birthday girl’s eyes shift towards the board and back to Shawn who was now leaning back in his chair, legs spread open and hands in his lap organizing the set of cards he had. Y/N and Shawn were always competitive when it came to Bullshit and everyone knew that they were in for a treat. 
Y/N’s sparkling eyes shifted back to Shawn’s full of determination and a hint of amusement. She smirked, “That’s going to change by the end of tonight.” 
“Getting a little cocky don’t you think?” he asked with a smile on his lips. 
Y/N shook her head, “Not at all.” 
Shawn chuckled and was about to let out another smart ass comment when Uncle John’s voice broke through the air, “Alright easy there, kids. That’s enough for now. Okay, so we made it through the lineup which means we can start at the top.” 
He looked through his cards and plucked one from the middle placing it face down starting a new pile, “One Ace.”
Then it was James’s turn who took two cards from his hand, “Two twos.” 
“Four threes,” Grandpa Arthur mumbled, pushing four cards onto the pile. 
“Bullshit,” Uncle John howled from his spot at the table. 
Grandpa Arthur only chuckled, “Try again Sonny.” He flipped over the cards to reveal that he, in fact, had four threes. 
Uncle John let out a small growl as he gathered the card pile from the center of the table into his hands. They were onto fours and it came up to the guy Shawn still didn’t know. Y/N must have sensed Shawn’s confusion because just as the guy went to play his turn, she cut him off. 
“Oh, right,” she announced, “Shawn this is Demetrius, his aunt owns my favorite book shop in the city. She’s around here somewhere anyways he helps out around there. Working and all that so yeah.” 
“Uh, it’s nice to meet you man,” Shawn replied sending him a smile. 
“Yeah you too,” Demetrius replied setting down two cards, “Two fours.” 
“Bullshit,” Shawn stated quickly.
Demetrius let out a displeased chuckle as he picked his two cards back up and shoved them into his hand. Fives, Shawn thought to himself. He looked to the cards in his hands and sent a glance towards Y/N who was peeking over her cards a small grin forming on her lips. Chewing on his bottom lip, Shawn took the three fives that were in his stack which happened to be the five of clubs, diamonds, and spades. 
“Three fives,” he said shoving the face down cards into the middle waiting to see if anyone was going to think he was bluffing. 
Y/N nodded towards him as her eyes glanced at her own cards plucking one of her own, “One six.” 
“You know the key to this game is to get rid of your cards as fast as you can,” he teased causing her to roll her eyes in response, “That and being able to read people.” 
“Three sevens,” Uncle John played his turn. 
“One eight,” James mumbled.
Grandpa Arthur went, “Four nines.” 
“Bullshitttt,” Shawn shouted without even glancing up and away from his cards.
Grandpa Arthur grabbed the cards and added them to his hand, “You got me there, boy. Got me there.” 
Shawn smiled approvingly towards Y/N who just shook her head at him trying to hide the smile that was fighting its way onto her lips. 
“What are we at?” Demetrius asked scanning through his cards.
“Tens,” Y/N responded foot kicking Shawn’s lightly under the table. 
His foot kicked back at hers as Demetrius laid his turn onto the table, “Two tens.” 
Jacks. Shawn instantly took his cards and put them into the pile, eyes once again finding hers, “Two Jacks.” 
“Bullshit,” Y/N stated loudly. Everyone became silent and watched in amusement as Shawn’s lips pulled into a smirk.
“You think I’m bluffing?” he asked. 
She nodded leaning forward in her chair lips pursed wrist settling under her chin hiding the cards in her hand, “Yeah, I do.” 
Shawn pointed towards the cards in the middle of the table and leaned back into his chair once again, “Why don’t you take a look.” 
Y/N took the two cards on the top and flipped them over. She shook her head, a small smile on her lips as she looked back towards Shawn. The smirk still sat on his lips as he watched a defeated sigh pass through the girl next to him, “Well, what do you have?” 
“Two Jacks,” she admitted flipping them over to show everyone else at the table, who all began to laugh, before grabbing all of the cards in the middle and adding to her deck that was once getting smaller but now had doubled in size.
“I was telling the truth,” Shawn exclaimed cheekily, “So you think you can still beat me?” 
Her eyes turned to slits as she tucked a piece of hair, that had fallen out from behind her ear, back into place. “Bring it on, Mendes!” 
“Alright, well it’s your turn, hotshot,” he replied knee bumping hers again.
“Okay,” she said head held high as she scanned her cards, “Three Queens.” 
Shawn smiled, “Bullshit.” 
He watched as her expression unfolded. She let out a groan and in seconds her perfectly manicured fingers were picking up the cards from the center and after they were safely in her hands, she hit him in the thigh. “I’m going to hurt you.” 
+
her
It was now Shawn’s turn and since you had started you had managed to call him out on his bluffs in his last four turns. The cards in his hands had multiplied and he had at least twelve while you only had seven. You were on sixes and he was staring down at the cards intensely, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. You were silent and watched him with a sweet smile on your lips. 
On the other side of the table, your Grandpa Arthur was making small talk with Demetrius who had gotten quiet after Shawn had shown up. Leaning into your chair, your head leaned against the plastic backrest as Shawn rubbed his chin in concentration. That’s when you heard the pair of feet patting up the stairs. Looking over, your gaze met the younger Mendes sibling who had been down in the yard setting up the music in the time being. She came over and stood by your chair, chin placed on the back of your chair, head against yours. 
Shawn glanced up at the new presence and sent a smile towards his sister as he reached out and gave her a small pinch in her side. She slapped his hand away causing him to chuckle. Aaliyah had her long dark hair straight across her back as she was dressed in a maroon dress that fell to above her knees and had a high neckline looking as beautiful as ever. 
“Let me guess,” she smiled, “Bullshit?” 
“You bet ya and Y/N is kicking the pants off of your brother,” your Uncle John smiled watching as Shawn just waved his hand at the older gentlemen. 
Aaliyah’s eyes widened, “Really?” 
“Yeah, yeah but not for long,” Shawn defended attention falling back onto his cards. 
“Alright, Mendes, if you say so,” you said showing Aaliyah the cards in her hand. 
He began to shuffle his cards around ignoring the comments going around the table, “Let me get back on track here. Three Sixes.” 
He put the cards into the middle without another second to hesitate but you had him right where you wanted him, “Bullshit.” 
You watched as Shawn’s head turned to you and his mouth opened in disapproval. His head fell back against his seat and a small noise of protest passed his lips. 
“That’s right I said it. Bullshit,” you said again this time louder. 
Shawn took the three cards from the pile and flipped them over revealing an Ace, Three, and a King. “Damn it!” He growled smiling over towards you. 
You let out a loud string of giggles, giving him one more long look as you stand from your spot at the table. Handing Aaliyah your cards, you adjust your dress and start to head towards the glass door to head back inside to the kitchen when Shawn’s voice yells after you, “Giving up already?” 
“Nope, just taking a break,” you called back as you opened the door and moved inside. 
In the kitchen, you found your mother, Karen, Loretta, and Demi. They were making small talk and there stood by the counter was your best friend shoving a cookie into her mouth. At the sound of the door, all of the women looked up to noticing your warm cheeks and large contagious smile that was on your lips. 
“Hi, hun,” your mom smiled, “How’s the game going?” 
Taking small steps towards the island you nodded as your hands knotted in the bottom of your dress, “It’s going great, Mom.” 
“Are you having a good time?” she asked taking a sip from the glass of wine that was in her hand. 
“The best,” you said honestly, “Thank you for the party.” 
Your mom nodded towards you reaching forward to rub your arm, “It’s nothing really. Just want you to have the best birthday you can.”
“Well it’s definitely high up there on the list,” you admitted inching your way towards the edge of the kitchen, “I’m just going to use the bathroom.” 
You made your way through the kitchen and as you passed Demi sent her a look before exiting the room and heading down the hall towards the bathroom. Walking in, you closed the door behind you and stood in front of the mirror looking into your reflection. You carefully fixed the few pieces of hair that were out of place and let out a soft sigh. As you stared at yourself and the smile on your face you realized that these last few weeks had been the happiest you had seen yourself in so long. It was because of all those people who were outside. It was your family, your friends, all those people that cared about you so deeply, that made you smile so much that your cheeks would start to hurt. 
They were the people that made your life worthwhile and you had gotten so lucky in the family and friends department. Most of all it was because of Shawn. He made you the happiest of all, in ways you didn’t know you were capable of feeling. Since your kiss, you two had been taking things slow. You hadn’t kissed since and hadn’t verbally admitted your feelings to each other but you were sure that you didn’t have too. That you both just knew how you felt about each other and words didn’t need to be said. He had been so understanding about your fears and wanting to go slow. It must have been hard for him, considering he was a guy but the last week had been crazy ever since your visit to the hospital. 
But even with the news of the cancer being back you had managed to smile through it. Days after you had gotten together again with Dr. Myers and gone through the plans of the surgery and everything. He was still hesitant about the fact that you were waiting to have it but you were a stubborn girl. You wanted it after your birthday and that’s the way it was going to be. In fact, you were having it in three days. A day after Shawn boards his plane and goes back to LA. You still weren’t sure how you were going to tell him or if you were going to tell him because he was still Shawn Mendes. 
He still had a life out of your small town of Pickering and your apartments in the city. When you were sick the first time, he didn’t have a place or time in his life to sit at your bedside waiting for you to get better and things hadn’t changed. He still wouldn’t have time for that and you couldn’t be a burden to him. He had a life, a career to get back to you and there just was no place for you, and you could only hope that one day he’d understand that even if he never gets to hear you explain it to him. 
A soft knock at the bathroom door interrupts you from your thoughts and in walks Demi with her long curls and yellow long sleeve romper. You don’t turn to look at her and keep your eyes locked onto your reflection struggling to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. “Hey, is everything okay?” 
“It’s back,” you whispered turning to look at her over your shoulder. 
At your simple answer, she looked at you confused but as her eyes met yours it’s like a switch went off in her brain and her face fell. She reached out to you and took your hands in hers. “Oh shit. Y/N.” 
You nodded and gripped her hands tightly in hers. “How long have you known?” she asked. 
“I went to the hospital late last week and I got tests and there is a small group of Mets where one of my ovaries used to be,” you explained. 
The frown on Demi’s face deepened and you can see the tears that are forming in her eyes. You quickly pulled her into your arms and began to rub her back softly, “Hey, I’m going to be okay. It’s all going to be fine. I’m having surgery in a few days to get them removed. No chemo.” 
“W-What are the risks?” she asked voice cracking. 
“Well,” you paused trying to gather your thoughts, “There’s a few but we don’t need to worry about them.” 
You were trying to calm her down because you couldn’t have other people finding out. The only reason you told her is because you needed to get this out of your system to someone without the whole day falling apart. She wouldn’t tell anyone, for you, you knew that. 
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Demi cried wiping at her eyes as you hugged her tightly. 
“For what? You aren’t the one that gave me cancer,” you joked pulling back from the hug where you began to wipe her tears away. 
She gave you a look that said that your comment wasn’t funny but somehow a chuckle still fell from her lips. Shaking her head she began to wipe under her eyes, “You’re awful.” 
“No, I’m just sick,” you mumbled running your hands up and down her arms. 
“How many people know?” she questioned grabbing some toilet paper to wipe at her eyes. 
“As of right now,” you pretended to be counting on your fingers, “You.” 
“Y/N!” Demi scolded. 
“I’ll tell them,” you insisted, “I mean I kind of have to before the surgery anyway. My Dad’s my emergency contact person.” 
You could tell that Demi was getting tired of your jokes and your sarcastic attitude. Clearly, it wasn’t working to lighten the situation at all. “I know, I’m not making this any better. I’ll tell them, Dem, but not today. Everyone is so happy and for one more today, I just wanted to be treated normal. Healthy even for one more day.” 
“Then why would you tell me?” Demi asked voice straining. 
“Because I needed to tell someone and you’re you. You’re my Demi. You were there by my bedside every day when I was in the hospital. You would always sneak in the best snacks that I wasn’t allowed to have and you didn’t tell anyone that I was sick. You’re my partner in crime. I can trust you. We’ve gone through everything together and this was something I needed you to go through with me too,” you smiled tucking your hair back behind your ear. 
Demi forced a smile on her face and you knew that you had picked the right person to sit by at lunch on your first day of school at age five, “I got you.” 
Sticking her pinky out towards you, you locked yours with hers and pulled her back in for another bone-crushing hug, “God, I love you.” 
“I love you too, you hoe,” Demi said in response with sad chuckles sounding through the air. 
Pulling back, her hands reached up to cup your cheeks and she stared into your eyes so intently, “How are you so calm about all of this? How can you be so happy when you were just told that your cancer is back?” 
Your hands covered hers on your face and your lips curved up into a soft smile, “Because I was given the last almost week for it to all settle in. I’ve come to terms that life is unfucking fair and I have to deal with the cards I’ve been dealt. Plus how can I not be happy? I have the best family and the greatest friends. I have you and I’m pretty sure that the curly haired rockstar outside loves me. I can’t think of any reasons why I shouldn’t be happier on my birthday.” 
“You are the bravest person I know,” she mumbled, causing your heart to ache because there was the chance that you might not make it through this and you were going to miss this girl in front of like crazy.
“I’m honored,” you laughed feeling tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, “Okay enough of all of this deep talk or I’m going to cry and having my makeup ruined is the last thing I need today.” 
“Yeah you’re right,” Demi agreed, moving in front of the mirror to wipe at her face again, “Now get your ass out there before Shawn gets more tally marks on that damn board.” 
You smiled and gave her arm one last gentle squeeze before you made your way back through the kitchen and outside towards Shawn Mendes, the champion, of Bullshit. 
He was still sat in the same spot he was before, a bunch of cards still in his hands that he moved around every few minutes. His eyes glanced mischievously around the table like he had everyone figured out but you knew that it was just an act he used. With your hands behind your back, you moved across the porch stopping as you stood behind his chair. Your eyes scanned across his cards while you began to chew on your bottom lip. Glancing over towards Aaliyah’s cards she sent a look with a smile and you sent her wink back. Shawn seemed so sucked up into the game that he hadn’t realized you were back outside and standing behind him. Lifting your hands, you placed them on each of his shoulders feeling him tense for a second but instantly relaxing as soon as your voice fills his ears. 
You gripped his shoulders tightly in your palms, “Oh, why so tense Mendes? Worried you’re about to be beaten by your little sister?” 
He shook his head, “Nope. I’ve got this in the bag because there are very few things Aaliyah can beat me at.” 
Instantly at his comment, Shawn had received a harsh slap to his arm from Aaliyah causing a laugh to fall from his mouth. You looked at Aaliyah’s cards again. “You might want to recheck your ego.” 
“Not a chance, love,” he said looking up at you for a split second before he placed four cards onto the table, “Four Aces.” 
Aaliyah glanced from her brother to you. You raised an eyebrow at her and began to bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes looked down at Shawn’s cards in his hands then back up to her. She smiled at you as her brown eyes fell back onto Shawn. 
“Bullshit!” 
+
him 
“You know I think you told Aaliyah, that I was bluffing,” Shawn said sending a raised eyebrow towards Y/N as he took her down the porch steps and into the backyard, hand intertwined with hers. 
“No, I think your just upset that someone finally beat you in a game of Bullshit,” Y/N shot back as he stopped under the porch so they were out of sight. 
It was just after dinner, and the sun was finally starting to set. The fairy lights around the yard were lit up along with a battery operated candles that lined the white tables across the yard that were covered in soft pink sheets. Wooden benches were around the tables and the music stand was set up on a small stage near the edge of the yard looking like it was meant for a DJ, though it was just a few speakers hooked up to someone’s laptop. The desserts had been moved outside to one of the tables and only had a few cupcakes and cookies left. There were more balloons scattered across the yard along with a large number 20 balloon that Katherine had bought on a wimp. It was beautiful. Everything had gone to plan so far and Shawn knew from the way everything was set up and how the lights sparkled across Y/N’s face just right that the rest of her night was going to be just as special if not more than her day had been. 
“You want to know something,” Shawn paused leaning closer to Y/N as he lowered his voice like it was a secret that no one else could know, “I let her win.” 
She let out a laugh shoving Shawn’s chest playfully, “No, you didn’t!” 
He smiled down at Y/N and grabbed both her hands in his as they lingered on his chest. “What are we doing over here?” 
Taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, Shawn let go of one of Y/N’s hands to reach into his back pocket and take out the rectangular box. It was wrapped in golden wrapping paper, that was slightly wrinkled, and a white bow. “Giving you your birthday present.” 
Offering it out to her, she was hesitant to take it, as her eyes fluttered up to look at him, “Shawn you didn’t have to do this.” 
He smiled, “Of course I did. It’s your birthday after all.” 
“Shawn,” she sighed glancing down at the small wrapped box. 
“Hey,” his thumb ran across her wrist soothingly, “Don’t worry about it okay. Just open it.” 
She nodded, Shawn’s hands dropped from hers as she began to rip at the wrapping paper of the small box. The gold wrapping paper fell at her feet revealing a black box underneath. With a small breath, she lifted the lid off and as soon as her eyes fell down onto what was inside a gasp fell from her lips. It was a necklace. The pendant that hung from the thin golden chain was a circle, with the continents from the Western hemisphere on it. And right on North America, there was a small star right were Pickering was. 
She sputtered lifting the necklace up and out of the box by the chain, “How much did this cost?” 
“It doesn’t matter,” he responded taking the black box from her hands and setting it down on a nearby table. 
“Yes, it does,” she whispered finger tracing over the star on Pickering, “It’s so beautiful.”
“I know how much you want to travel so I tried to fit as much of the world as I could on there without making the continents too small because you wouldn’t be able to see where the star was for Pickering. Anyways, I know that you want to travel and when you do start to explore the world and begin to fall in love with all these new places, I want you to be able to look down at your neck and remember about your place here in Pickering. It’s just in case you start to forget about all the love for you here,” Shawn explained eyes sparkling as he stared down at Y/N. 
“Shawn-” 
He interrupted her, “That’s not all. Turn it over.” 
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she turned the pendant around to the backside instantly feeling all air leave her lungs as she stared at a date carved into the back. 04/21/14. April 21st, 2014. It was four years ago. 
Her eyes locked with Shawn’s as his hand took one of hers in his. “That’s four years ago. The day, I left Pickering for the first time for my career. It was also the day that I realized how much you mean to me Y/N Y/L/N. That’s when I figured out that I couldn’t live without you in my life. Leaving you was probably the worst feeling I had ever experienced and every day I found myself missing your smile, and hearing your laugh. Most of all I just missed being with you and ever since that’s all I’ve ever felt. You’re my person.” 
Shawn’s smile was so large and at his confession, he could feel his cheeks turning red but he didn’t care because there she was standing in front of him smiling up at him with so much admiration and happiness as her eyes threatened to spill tears of joy. Bringing her hand up to his face, he left a kiss on her knuckles and that sent her over the edge. A single tear slipped down her cheek and onto her neck. 
A chuckle fell past her lips as she wiped at her eyes, words coming out soft and scratchy, “Will you help me put this on?” 
Shawn’s smile widened and nodded as he took the chain in his hand. She turned around and he draped the necklace around her neck as she held her hair to the side for him. He clipped the chain in place and let it fall against her neck. Y/N’s hand dropped to her side and as she was about to turn back around to face Shawn, she stopped at the feeling of his warm lips connecting to the side of her cheek, leaving a small lingering peck. And almost in an instant, she leaned back into his touch like it was a natural thing they did every day. 
+
her
You stood in the corner of the yard away from all the other guests near the spot under the porch where Shawn had given you your birthday present. Your fingers touched the pendant around your neck softly as you watched across the yard, where your best friend and the man you were pretty sure you loved, spun his sister around to Perfect by Ed Sheeran. Both smiles were present on the Mendes siblings and it caused one to form on yours as well but it didn’t last long though. 
You were instantly hit with the reality that neither one of them knew about your past years with cancer or now where you once again were presented with a sad fate. When they looked at you they didn’t see you as someone who was sick or someone who was healthy. They saw you as you. The crazy girl they grew up with who liked pineapple on her pizza and could sing the Canadian anthem from back to front. You could die and they would have no idea how or why it happened. And at the end of the day, it would be entirely your fault that they were left in the dark about the whole thing.
“Hey, what are you doing over here all alone,” you jumped at the hand that was placed on your shoulder as you came face to face with your mother. 
“Uh, just taking a second for myself is all,” you replied, hand dropping away from the necklace. 
“Is everything alright, hun?” she asked hand stroking your back lovingly
“Yeah, it’s just,” you paused hand flying back up towards your necklace, “Mom, how do you know if you’re really in love?” 
“Oh, honey, I haven’t heard you ask me that in years,” your mother revealed watching as your eyes widened in shock.
“Wait, I’ve asked you this before?” 
Your mother nodded a small chuckle falling from her lips, “Yeah, you were around five or six, and you had just came home from spending the whole day at Karen and Manny’s. You couldn’t stop going on and on about Shawn. You said he was the sweetest boy in the world and then you asked me how would you know if you were in love.” 
Your gaze fell on Shawn as he dipped Aaliyah arms wrapped around her. Fingers grasping the necklace you looked back towards your mom, lip tucked in between your teeth. “Well, what’s the answer? How do you know if you are in love?” 
“In all honesty, honey, when you know you just know. You get this sort of feeling around them like you don’t get around anyone else and all you can think about twenty-four seven is that person. When you’re together it just feels right and there’s nothing else in the world that feels better than being with them. If you’re in love, you’ll know.” 
Your grip loosened from the necklace and your arm fell limp to your side, head turning towards the yard. He was pushing his curls back out of his eyes while he wrapped his sister up into a hug just as the song came to an end. Your mother was right. You just knew. It was the way your heart would swell whenever he was around and how your body would tingle under his touch. It was the way he could always make you flustered by his words and how he would do anything for you. 
You wanted to spend every waking moment with him and when you weren’t with him, he’s all you pretty much thought about. He had been your best friend for years and all those sleepless nights you had at the age of fourteen thinking about him, you never thought had anything to do with love but now at twenty, you knew without a doubt that you had been in love with him for years. Some days you were sure and others you didn’t think you were but now it was real in your mind. No more doubt, no more excuses to deny the way you were feeling. You were in love with Shawn Mendes and there was nothing you could do about it except fall deeper into the reality of it all. 
“Y/N, dear, where did you get that necklace?” your mother asked noticing the new pendant around your neck, “It’s beautiful.” 
A soft smile formed on your lips, “Shawn gave it to me.”
+
him 
Shawn knew which song would be playing next. It was her parents who requested it. It was their song and he knew how much it annoyed Y/N whenever it played. She thought her parents were adorable of course but the song had been played one too many times in her life and he knew it was inevitable that she would let out an irritated groan as soon as the starting few notes broke through the speakers. 
That was exactly what had happened too. Shawn watched as Y/N’s mouth opened and a noise of displeasure fell out. “No, you let them play this song?” 
She sent a pointed look towards him, who only chuckled in response as he noticed from the corner of his eye Katherine and Bradley walking towards the middle of the yard to begin to sway softly to the music. Soon Karen and Manny joined them and one by one Y/N’s grandparents and aunts and uncles stood up too. They were all dancing as Elvis’s voice flowed loudly and perfectly through the large speakers. 
“Did you know about this?” she asked eyebrows raised. 
“Yeah, now come and dance with me,” he demanded, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the crowd of the rest of the dancing couples. 
She rolled her eyes as her hands looped up and around Shawn’s neck, “I can’t believe I’m about to dance to this song.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Shawn voiced eyes falling to her feet, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” 
Her arms dropped from around his neck and an amused look appeared on her face. “Oh, I get it. You want it to be just like how we used to do this. Alright, if that’s what you really want.” 
With that, she slipped off the nude hills and kicked them to the side towards a close table and moved back to where she had been before, arms wrapped around his neck and chest connected to his but now she was a little shorter. Shawn’s arms wrapped around her waist and slowly he began to move them back and forth to the song, she had said on multiple occasions that she despised. 
His head dipped down and the smell of coconuts and vanilla filled his nose. Now, this was familiar. He could recall on multiple occasions during family gatherings, and summer barbecues where she would be in his arms, dancing with him, barefoot in the yard. He sighed happily but after a few minutes, he lifted his head at the feeling of Y/N’s arms tightening around him. Her eyes were locked on something else and as he followed her gaze, a low chuckle escaped from him. 
There a few feet away was Demi wrapped up in James’s arms. They were dancing close, probably too close in Y/N’s opinion. She sent a glance towards Shawn and he knew she was going to try to make a move for them. “Uh, I should-” 
Before she could though, his arms tightened around her waist and he held her still against his chest, “Hey, just let it happen on its own.” 
Her eyes widened slightly and her jaw dropped too, “Let it happen. My best friend is dancing with my older brother.” 
“Yeah, and you shouldn’t interfere. It’ll only ruin it,” he reasoned beginning to dance again. 
At his words, she smiled teasingly, “Huh, when did you get so smart?” 
“I always have been you’ve just been blinded by my striking good looks to notice.”
“Okay whatever you say, Mendes,” she laughed, head falling onto his chest and eyes fluttering to a close. 
Shawn could feel the smile that was lifting at the corners of his lips because this was all he ever wanted and more. He wanted his best friend back and somehow fell in love with her in the process. She really made him feel things he wasn’t used to and he found himself learning something new every day. He still, of course, didn’t know about why they had a fallout but at the moment he didn’t need to know because they came back stronger than ever. 
Someday he would know because it was something that he would need to hear. He would need to know the truth because if there was one thing Shawn knew it was that relationships couldn’t be built on lies and secrets. And if that’s what this was building up to be with Y/N, a relationship, then those were two things they would need to live by. He knew that sometime soon they would have to face this thing that seemed to divide them but at the moment his mind was too hazy from the smell of her perfume and the soft grip she had on him to care. 
He was in such a state of peace, he hadn’t realized he had started to hum to the Elvis song and then that turned to him singing the lyrics in her ear, “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you.” 
Within minutes though, the song had started to come to an end and the last remaining notes traveled through the speakers until it went silent altogether. Shawn let go of Y/N and unwinded her arms from around him. She gave him a look of confusion as he let go of her arms and began to move away. Jogging over towards where the speakers were, he reached behind the stand and grabbed the neck of the brown acoustic guitar. 
He sat down on the edge of the small stage with the guitar propped into his lap. Y/N still stood in the same spot she had been dancing with him moments ago, a small smile starting to blossom on her glossy lips. As the rest of the guests took notice of Shawn and the guitar they began to gather around smiling at the young star who had managed to make it big. 
Every person was able to take notice of his rosy cheeks and pearly white smile that seemed to never disappear from his lips. He ran his fingers through his curls quickly as all attention fell on him. Strumming at the guitar to make sure it was in tune, he looked back up at at the small crowd that all had something in common with them. They all cared deeply for the girl in the white dress who stood barefoot in the middle of the yard. 
Shawn licked his lips quickly as his eyes found hers, “Um, I know that you all probably want to get back to dancing as soon as possible and I don’t blame you but all I need is a few minutes. I just wanted to say that today is a very special day for me because it’s the day that my best friend was born. I don’t know if someone you know this but Y/N and I have been attached at the  hip most of our lives and after all these years of being by each other’s sides I have no clue what I do without her.” He paused trying to gather his thoughts and control his racing heart as his eyes scanned over the yard again, “To put it, simply, she is one of my favorite people in the world and I’m sure that I care about her as much as you all do which is why you are here today. To celebrate her and her birthday.”
Smiles were forming on everyone’s faces at Shawn’s kind words about the young woman who had affected all the people there. He spoke with such admiration and love that everyone easily could see how much love he held for her. At every single thing that was coming out of his mouth, Shawn’s cheeks were getting more red and his mind more clouded. His eyes locked with hers and everything else seemed to fade. Her smile was so big and so bright, that Shawn swore he was getting dizzy. With one look, she was able to get a reaction out of him and he knew that he was in deep for his best friend. 
He chuckled as he began to rub the back of his neck nervously, “Uh, Y/N I know I already gave you your birthday present but I guess I have one more.” 
Y/N shook her head in disbelief at him and Shawn sent her a wink in response. Dropping his head, he began to pick at the strings of the guitar, letting the familiar notes pass through the air. Lifting his head, his gaze passed by everyone until they were once again on her. Her eyes were wide and she was biting on the bottom of her lip as the song she knew all so well filled her ears. Shawn had opened his mouth and began to sing the oh’s that wasn’t in the recorded version but was included when he sang it live. 
He could see the emotion pass across her face at the sound of him singing the very song she had been listening too for the past three years since he had left and they had their fallout. It was her first time hearing him sing it live and in person but what mattered most of all was he wasn’t singing for a large crowd that paid to watch him perform. No, he was singing for one person and one person only, her. And nothing could have been more special than that moment when a look was shared between them and the only thing there was complete and utter love. 
“I promise that one day I'll be around. I'll keep you safe. I'll keep you sound.” Shawn sang, feeling the lyrics hit him deep in the gut, “Right now it's pretty crazy. And I don't know how to stop. Or slow it down.” 
Sure, it was a vulnerable thing to do. Shawn singing his songs. It all felt the same though. Whether it was a whole crowd of his fans, a few friends, or now with this small group of family neighbors he had known most of his life. He was singing everything he felt, the words that he had spent hours in the studio trying to string together. 
This song had been out for three almost four years now and he had gotten used to singing it and he felt more comfortable every time but now in front of her, he felt like it was the very first time. The first time he sang it live in an arena with a bunch of screaming fans. His stomach was turning and he was starting to sweat. His face felt hot and his heart was beating like crazy. That was just the effect she had on him.
“Hey. I know there are some things we need to talk about. And I can't stay. Just let me hold you for a little longer now,” Shawn smiled as he sung seeing the happiness that appeared on everyone’s faces. The biggest being on Katherine and Bradley’s besides their daughter who looked like she was going to burst from how overwhelming it all was. “Take a piece of my heart. And make it all your own. So when we are apart. You'll never be alone”
For the rest of the song, Shawn couldn’t look away from Y/N. Her reaction was all he cared about and he gained exactly what he wanted as he sang out the last ohh’s. She was almost in tears, he knew it. Just by the way she was biting into her bottom lip and how her nose kept scrunching up. Shawn strummed the last few chords and applause erupted around the yard. The guitar fell across his lap and he started to laugh lightly at Y/N. She was smiling at him as tears were starting to fall from her eyes. Shaking his head, Shawn grinned at her as she just shrugged and began to wipe at her tears. 
He was about to put his guitar back and move back over towards Y/N but halted as he watched Brad take a step out of the small crowd. Her dad looked beyond grateful as he shared a look with the boy he had watched turn into a man. Brad’s brown eyes then moved to all the people who had come to celebrate his daughter’s birthday and show how much they all loved her and that’s when something passed across the older man’s face that Shawn couldn’t place. That’s when it happened, it all made sense in the worst way possible. The truth was out and he felt all happiness he was feeling moments ago disappear into thin air.
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