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#i may need to buy another shelf
sporkberries · 10 months
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Me thinking about how much stuff i can collect when my income is stable again
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thedreadvampy · 1 year
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so MAYBE I spent 4 hours in IKEA on a whim instead of cleaning my flat BUT! BUT!!!!! I bought several forms of Tiny Shelves which as any fule kno makes everything instantly tidier.
added yet another tier to my stack of tea/coffee/cocoa/misc shelves to control The Collection. got trays under all my draining plant pots so I can actually water them. and I got a new monitor stand which is wide enough to fit both my A3 tablet and my A5 tablet underneath and has a shelf with enough space to trade out my work and home laptops easily. plus it's like 3in less deep than my old one, so that's freed up a bunch more desk space.
also of course vitally we did get the Small BLAHÅJ which was the whole point.
I also found a portable freestanding bag situation (toybox from the nursery section) which is both a) a way better option for storing glass recycling and hauling it down 3 flights of stairs than my previous solution "small cardboard box which holds 8 jars/bottles until one of us can be bothered to transfer them into a bag" and b) HAS A REALLY CUTE WHALE ON IT
plus we (Sam) got some new plant friends and the next size up of a lidded pyrex box I've always found super good for lasagne. and Sam got several things he's needed for a while (as well as a wee shark)
in summary did I spend too much money at IKEA and fritter away a full day walking around aimlessly for fun to the point of exhaustion? yes. was it extremely sensible and adult and I'm actually correct in all regards always? perhaps.
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oikasugayama · 4 months
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He F--KS You When You're Stuck pt. 2
pt. 1 *Atsushi, Fukuchi, Nikolai | pt. 2 Dazai, Ango, Oda | pt. 3 Kunikida, Sigma, Akutagawa
Disclaimer: These are works of fiction. The actions in these stories do not reflect real actions taken in the source material. I do not condone the actions some characters may take in these stories. If you are sensitive to potential non-consensual activity, do not read this series.
Contains: fem!reader being stuck/confined, sex worker, role-playing non-con
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Dazai
You're one of Dazai's coworkers who he's previously hooked up with. Kunikida asks you for another box of paperclips, so you go to the supply closet down the hall. It seems you're almost out, but you do spot one box that must have fallen off the shelf and into the corner behind a stack of heavy boxes.
You decide to clear a space on a lower shelf and try to climb through enough to grab the box of paperclips from the floor, but you mistake how far they are and you end up tipping too far forward. Now your legs are in the air, your skirt is slowly shimmying up your legs, and you can't get the leverage to get back up.
"Um... Hello?" you call out, not screaming but trying to be loud so someone in the hallway or maybe the nearby bathroom will hear you. "Can someone help me out? I'm stuck in the supply closet."
You have to call out and thump on the wall a few times before the door swings open, but for some reason the person who opened it is silent. The door clicks closed again, and then you feel someone grab your hips.
"Hey-- can you at least tell me who you are???"
"Don't worry, baby, it's me."
"Oh, Dazai! Hey, I just need you to pull me out of here, I fell too far forward."
"Mmm... I can't let this opportunity go to waste though, can I? Your ass is all pretty up in the air for me..." he pulls you up just enough so that he can grind against your ass and your toes are just barely scraping the ground.
"We're at work... our coworkers are all out there..."
"I may have told Kunikida that we needed to go out and buy more supplies because you said we're out. I'm sure we have twenty minutes."
And that's how you end up with Dazai balls deep in the middle of a work day with your boss two rooms away.
"Be quiet," he hisses to you when you moan and whimper as his balls clap your ass.
"You be quiet," you huff back. "you're being too loud when you-- ohh fuck--"
"Do I have to pull you out of there and hold your mouth shut?" he grunts, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts.
"m-maybe..."
"shut up or i'll tell kunikida i've been fucking his pretty little secretary. he'll be soooo mad."
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Ango
He hates his coworkers. He hates how skeezy and immoral and degenerate they are. He hates how sometimes they convince him to go to bars and clubs in the back alleys of Yokohama. He hates himself for going along with it when one of them takes him into a back room and points at something-- he isn't sure what he's looking at at first, but then you kick your leg a little.
"Hey, is someone there?" you coo. "I'm stuck. Can you help me?"
"She's all yours," his coworker says, clapping him on the shoulder before leaving the room. Ango is stunned at first and spends several minutes standing back, staring at your bare ass sticking out from between the couch cushions.
"Are you there? I need help," you say, honestly unsure if there's still a client in your room.
Ango finally decides to use you for some stress relief since he concludes this is your job and you wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be.
He kneels behind you, gets down eye level to inspect your cunt. He can't exactly tell if you're STD free just from looking, but he's gonna try anyway, and damn you have a pretty pussy. He reaches out to feel your glistening folds and realizes you're soaking wet and plenty open for him to slide right in.
with shaking hands he pulls his cock out of his unbuttoned pants and lets himself divulge, sliding into you and starting to thrust with his eyes closed.
even as you moan and try to get him to say something, he stays silent, only giving little tiny moans and sighs every now and again. even when he cums, splashing on your back and cheeks, he only whimpers, leaving his voice mostly indiscernible. he can't let you have to ability to pick him out of a lineup later in case someone tries to blackmail him over this.
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Oda
He suggests you pretend to be stuck for a form of roleplay. It's not your fault you get actually a bit stuck when you climb between the bottom tines of one of your dining chairs.
Oda comes home to you spread out on the floor in your pajamas, upper half stuck in a chair.
"Well hey there, miss. It's a good thing I came along. Can I help you get out of there?"
"Oda, I'm literally stuck," you whine. He takes a second to process that, then kneels down beside you.
"I'd be happy to help you out of there. Why don't you think of a way to repay me?" he rubs your hip, slowly moving toward your butt. As uncomfortable as you are with your chest hooked around one spire and your shoulders locked forward, you're not entirely against this right now. You'd made the plan together before anyway.
"You can use my pussy, sir," you pay politely, and Oda sighs heavily as he pulls down your shorts.
"Sounds like a perfect trade." He whistles when he sees that you're not wearing panties. "My, my, what a pretty cunt you've got."
He starts teasing, eventually fingering you as you moan and squirm. He's his usual self, praising you while he works you up, all the while pretending like a good samaritan who's just helping you out.
Before he gets his dick out he does actually help you out of the chair because he thinks you look uncomfortable and he wants to see your pretty face while he fucks you.
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baileypie-writes · 5 months
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Please, I need more Veneer or Velvet x Reader fluff, I'm sorry I knoe I'm not specific about anything I'm just very brainrot by both of them 😭
You can ignore this if you want dw 🫂
A/N ~ Sure! I decided to do headcanons of the both of them(separately). I hope you like it!
~Fluffy Velvet and Veneer Headcanons~
Velvet x Reader, Veneer x Reader(separately)
Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together
Reader: Gender Neutral
Relationship: Romantic
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff
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~Velvet~
~ This girl isn’t very affectionate. So most of the hugging and kissing will be done by you. She may act like it annoys her, but she likes it. She even secretly craves it.
~ Velvet’s love languages are words of affirmation(receiving) and gifts(receiving and giving). Please tell her that you love her and that you’re proud of her. It will make her day. She lives for any kind of praise.
~ She loves gifts. Even though she has lots of money and things already, getting things just hits different for her when she didn’t buy it herself. She keeps anything you give her on a special shelf in her room. She also gives you gifts sometimes. Most of the things she gives you are expensive, like designer clothes or the latest phone model. She likes the look on your face when she gifts them to you, and of course the thanks you give her.
~ Velvet will defend you with her life. If somebody ever wrongs you, they’re banned from all her shows. If it’s somebody on the internet, she’s fully prepared to send her fans after them. She’ll then do her best to make you forget about the person completely. She says things like: “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They clearly don’t know you at all, otherwise they’d know better.” and “Just forget about them. Idiots like them are a waste of time.”
~ She likes doing your hair. Her hair styling skills are amazing, so it always comes out great. Sometimes, she uses you to test out styles she might do on herself.
~Veneer~
~ Oh, goodness. Veneer is clingy. He doesn’t get a lot of attention from his parents or Velvet, so you’re his only source of it. He needs it to survive. But he’ll be happy to give some affection back! In fact, he’s very affectionate. He gives the best hugs and kisses!
~ Veneer’s very caring. He always makes sure you’re feeling okay both physically and mentally. If he senses that you may be the tiniest bit not okay, he’ll drop everything to be with you.
~ He’s a cuddler. He loves cuddles, he can’t get enough of them. If you two are ever just chilling alone, every time he ends up wrapping his arms and legs around you in a hug. And he will not let go for at least an hour.
~ Veneer spoils you so much. He probably buys more things for you than for himself. When you told him that you’re running out of room because of all the stuff he gives you, he seriously offered to buy you another house. There’s no way to stop the spoiling. Just bear with it.
~ He may not be able to stand up to Velvet for himself, but he won’t hesitate to stand up for you. Nobody, not even his sister, is allowed to be rude to you.
~ Veneer’s really good at comforting. It breaks his heart when you’re upset, so he uses everything in his power to make you happy again. He’ll talk to you, telling you that everything’s gonna be okay. Within a few minutes, you won’t even remember what you were sad about.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~baileypie-writes
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alicerosejensen · 1 year
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A little discussion about Leon and the young Reader
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These are just my headcannons, which may differ from yours. I must say right away that Leon is generally my favorite character, but the favorites are Vendetta, RE6 and ID, so all my headcannons are related to the fact that he is already 35-40 years old. And no, I don't think he's old! This person is like a good wine, it only gets better over the years!
- Firstly, the initiative in the relationship does not necessarily have to come only from you. Leon may be ten years older, and the question of age will not bother much if he is really attached to you.
- At first it may be another attempt at light flirting, to which you can react positively (Leon is the god of flirting, I'm sure) or you can just let him know that you are uncomfortable with this behavior. If excessive flirting causes concern, then Leon will calmly take it and continue to be more restrained in communicating with you, although you can still hear a compliment from him that will make you blush, but nothing obscene!
- Leon will be touched if you're small. He will specially put a box of your favorite cookies on the top shelf to watch you try to get it. In the end, he will still give you everything you need by making a sarcastic comment like, "Hold it, my little goblin.”
- He will be happy if you are on the same wavelength with him.
"Leon may laugh at you, but it's never offensive. He loves you and, having offended you even accidentally with a careless word, will thereby harm himself. Damn it, this man will blame himself for what he said for a long time and try to make amends.
- It's unlikely that this man will ever become a daddy, but he definitely likes to spoil you. Seriously, the DSO pays him too well for taking risks at work, so he will happily buy you what you like to please you. New boots or a handbag that you saw in the window, but can't afford? no problem. You'll get them. In addition, Leon will bring you cute souvenirs that reminded him of you during the mission. He makes gifts completely unselfishly, but loves to get a response. Just kiss him.
- The best gift for him will be taking care of him.  He will never talk about it, but he likes it when you massage his head or shoulders. Smear the bruises with ointment? be sure to kiss the sore spot, and he will die of happiness and love for you! He feels awkward, but he is pleased with your attention, let it be small things, it means a lot to him.
- Leon likes to listen to your heartbeat. It calms him down after a mission with a bunch of zombies. He's very afraid of losing you.
- Leon has a problem with alcohol, but he would never drink in your presence unless you have a romantic dinner. However, it will upset him if you come drunk from a party with friends. For the most part, he is worried that you may be taken advantage of in this state, so he tries to take you away from such events.
- And punch that freak in the nose who has the nerve to molest you.
"Leon doesn't mind dancing with you at home when you're drunk.
“Just go to sleep, baby. Tomorrow morning won't be so fun anymore”
- The absolute god in caring for a partner. He knows the hangover syndrome, so he will do everything to make it easier for you.
- Since you are younger than him, Leon is not always up to date with current trends. Sometimes he may not understand modern slang, but he is not averse to learning something new if it is “something" within reason.  
- He's not usually jealous, but sometimes he worries that you might find someone younger than him. Most often it happens when you talk to guys from your college or at parties where you dance.
- Of course, he will never accuse you of communicating with friends, but there will be moments when your male friends will annoy him.
- Sometimes Leon Scott Kennedy is a real possessive .
"Sleep with him in your arms?" Get ready for the fact that you will be securely and firmly pressed to Mr. Kennedy's chest while his head is on top of your head, and no, he will not let you go unless you urgently need to go to the toilet.
- You sleep in his shirts.
“It's all right. You can take my clothes, angel.”
- Leon will teach you how to shoot a gun. Seriously, he's so worried about you that he'd rather play it safe again and teach you basic self-defense skills if he's not around to protect you. It's okay if you misunderstood something. He has enough patience to teach you everything you need.
- Leon loves hugs.
- Most likely, he does not know how to cook, so he will be glad if you take this responsibility on yourself. Homemade food is something that reminds him of his childhood and the few happy moments he had.
"He likes that you smell like his cologne." He will specifically hug you for a long time so that the smell persists as long as possible.
- He feels younger with you. No, Leon doesn't consider himself too old, but he definitely remembers that young guy who recently graduated from the police academy. This helps him not to fall into melancholy.
- I don't think he will tell you about his work. It's not that he feels any distrust, he just wants to keep you away from all this shit.
- You are the sunshine for him.
"Take a shower with you?" He has neither the strength nor the desire to refuse you.
- A thousand and one cute nicknames for you? No problem!
“Angel, princess, sunshine, sweetheart are the most favorite.”
- This person cares about his loved ones, so if you, oh my God, are sick! be prepared for excessive guardianship. Leon will buy you all the necessary medicines and even pay for the services of a doctor.
- Seeing you cry hurts him. He will do everything to find the reason, but he won't put pressure on you if you don't want to talk about it yet. Most likely, he will gently direct you to a conversation, but if you don't trust him for some reason, then it will hurt him again.
- It won't be difficult for Leon to watch a stupid talk show or a banal movie with you. Just be prepared for the fact that he will not be too talkative while watching, and then throw out a whole bunch of comments about the stupidest moments.
- He is not verbose, especially after completing tasks. Don't get angry and don't judge him. Just stay close to him: pat him on the back, press your whole body against him and say something affectionate. This will cheer him up, although he may not show it.
- You can be calm - this person will never hit you. Hell, he'd rather put a bullet in his head, but he wouldn't let himself or anyone else hurt you.
I apologize in advance for the mistakes made. English is not my first language, but I love Leon too much and I never have enough content about him.
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soapsilly · 4 months
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Bad Memories - Roronoa Zoro Imagine
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Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Spoilers for One Piece (?)
Summary: (Y/N), a black market dealer, begrudgingly joins the Straw Hats after having to admit to herself that a strong crew would help her reach her goal faster. However, being on a ship with the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro brings back some old memories she'd rather not be reminded of.
Requests are closed
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"Oooooh, what is this?", Luffy reached out to the mysterious object that was displayed on one of the countless shelfs.
"If you touch it, you buy it", (Y/N) spoke up from where she was leaned over the counter, trying to figure out what it was the cyborg wanted from her.
Franky needed a very specific tool to modify parts of the Sunny. A tool he didn't have and didn't necessarily could get easily as it was classified as marine technology.
"That's a very unusualy request you got there", she furrowed her brows.
Nami knew what that meant - when vendors said something along those lines what they usually meant was 'that's gonna be price-y', but the red-head prided herself in being a pro in haggling down any price however high it may be.
"Listen, I know what that means. I also know that that's bullshit. So you better make us a good price because we're going to get that piece one way or another", the navigator tapped her finger against the counter top.
"Oh, that's not what I meant", the dealer shrugged, "I literally meant nobody ever asks me for those things. Most people don't even know they exist. I'm not trying to get rich here, however, I will get a reasonable price for it or you can go and find the tools you need somewhere else"
While the two were talking finance, Franky was already tinkering around with the newly attained pieces and Luffy was doing god knows what.
"Is that a Devil Fruit??", Luffy's voice reached them from somewhere out of the depths of the storage room.
"Yes, do you want it? I'll make you a good price", the dealer yelled back.
Within seconds the Rubberman was at their sides again.
"YES! Nami, please can we? Usopp would love that! Or Chopper!"
"Chopper already has a devil fruit power!", the red-head yelled back.
"Oh. Right. Then for Usopp!"
While the two of them startet arguing about whether or not they'd need another 'idiot' with devil fruit powers on the team a tall blonde guy almost kicked in the door to (Y/N)'s storage.
"We need to leave! The stupid marimo started a fight in the city and now a bunch of marines are here-", it seemed like the man wanted to say some more but stopped talking once he saw the woman behind the counter, "Oh, beautiful lady! Mon Amour! My name is Sanji and I'm-"
"Wait let me get this right... some dumbass from your crew starts a fight with the marines and the first thing you do IS RUN BACK TO MY WAREHOUSE?!", the dealer was furious, "You need to leave. Now!"
(Y/N) started to frantically pack together the most important things, so that once the marines should really try to barrel down her front door, she'd be set to make a swift exit out the back.
"Just come with us!", the Straw Hat exclaimed happily, "you have so much great stuff here! Having someone on the crew who can find all those things would be so cool"
"No", her voice was icy, "I've known you for thirty minutes and you already put my livelyhood at risk. I think I'll pass" - that there was a whole nother reason the dealer didn't want to join the notorious pirate crew, she decided to keep to herself.
From outside the voices and footsteps from what (Y/N) could only imagine were dozens and dozens of marines grew louder.
"We need to leave", Nami commanded, "Sanji take her stuff"
"Of course, Nami-swan~", the blonde did as he was told and grabbed the huge sack filled with all kinds of things from the dealers hands. Not a minute too late as there there was a loud knocking that disrupted the womans attempts of resistance.
The Straw Hat as well as the Cyborg already adopted their fighting stance when the navigator held them back yet again. (Y/N) asked herself, who it actually was that was in charge here, but she didn't mind as she wasn't particularly eager to have a battle with god knows how many marines in a confined space.
"Is there another way out?", she turned to (Y/N).
"Follow me"
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Once outside all they had to do was to leave the place without making a fuss - a task seemingly unmanagable for Monkey D. Luffy. They weren't even 30 feet away from the warehouse when Luffy's loud voice could be heard all over the place.
"Oi, those aren't even that many. We could've taken them!" - followed by the even louder 'clunk' that Nami's fist made when it made impact with his skull.
"Shut up and just run!", she yelled at him. And they did. Every now and then a low ranking marine officer would catch up with them but either Franky or Luffy or even sometimes (Y/N) herself would take care of that. It was when one of the captains came dangerously close to them that they had to worry.
When (Y/N) started to notice the blonde guy fall behind, struggling with carrying her belongings and fighting off the marines at the same time, she realized that those things needed to go.
"Hey! Drop the sack! It's slowing you down", she yelled over at him.
"No, no! It's fine!", he yelled back, "I only fight with my legs anyways! Your belongings are safe with me"
"Doesn't matter. Drop it. It's not worth the risk", she insisted.
"Are you sure?", Nami sounded shocked, "I saw what you had in the shop. That stuff is worth a fortune! Sanji, don't you dare!"
"I don't care!", the dealer yelled back, "I'll get new stuff. If it makes you happy, you can keep whatever you can carry. Drop. The. Sack!"
For a moment the tall man hesitated but then did as he was told. As soon as he dropped the added weight, he immediately spun into a roundhouse kick, hitting an approaching opponent directly in the head to give the group time to bring some space between them and their followers. When (Y/N) stopped abruptly and started running back to where her things were scattered around Nami was almost sure the other woman had come to her senses but (Y/N) went straight past the incredibly expensive looking jewelry, the intricate tools and even the devil fruit, that Luffy was begging Nami for. Instead she was frantically sorting through the depth of the now half-empty sack.
"What are you doing?", Nami screamed at her, "whatever you're looking for you better find it quick!"
The marines were quickly catching up but (Y/N) still hasn't found what she was looking for.
"Hah! Found it", she yelled but as she was getting up she came face to face with the vice-admiral. However, she didn't even have the time to react or make a game plan as a fist whizzed past her, sending the marine flying. As soon as the fist appeared, it disappeared again. (Y/N) had heard about the Straw Hat Luffy's rubber abilities but she never would've guessed that they'd save her ass one day. She didn't allowe herself the time to dwell on it as she was sure that this punch would merely slow the captain down.
When they finally reached the ship the rest of the crew was already waiting for their mates. As soon as everybody had boarded the Thousand Sunny, as (Y/N) had found out the ship was called, the cyborg used a maneuver called coup de burst, which catapulted them to safety.
Once everything settled down, it was time for the crew to introduce themselves.
"Oi, everybody! This is...", Luffy trailed off once he realized that he had no idea what the girl's name was.
"Oh um.. it's (Y/N)"
"Guys, this is (Y/N) and she's going to join our crew"
(Y/N) furrowed her brows, "I'm not! You saved me back there and I'm thankful but you're also the reason I was in that situation to begin with. So I think it evens out. Just drop me off on the next island or... just... anywhere is fine...", she grew quiet towards the end.
"What? No! Our crew is great I promise! We'll find the One Piece and I'll be pirate king!"
"I don't care", she really didn't want to be there.
But Luffy wasn't know for his ability to take no for an answer. And so he kept throwing new points and arguments at her to make her change her mind. She didn't know what it was that did the trick in the end. Was it his determination? Or the things she's read and heard about the crew? The things they already accomplished? She simply didn't know. What she did know, however, was that reaching her goal would become much easier with some powerful allies by her side.
"Great", Luffy sounded happy, "so let me introduce you to everybody. You already know Nami. She's our navigator. That cool cyborg is Franky. He's our shipwright. This", he pointed towards the tall guy, that Nami had called Sanji before, "is Sanji. He makes the best food you've ever eaten"
"What's your favourite meal (Y/N)-san? I'll cook it especially for you tonight - to celebrate you joining us. Another beautiful lady on the ship ~"
(Y/N) was a little unsure how to react to the cook's advances but sent him a polite smile regardless.
"Don't worry, he's always like this. You'll get used to it", Nami assured her, "and if you're smart, you'll even figure out how to use it to your advantage", she sent the other woman a wink.
The black market dealer didn't get to answer though as Luffy continued. (Y/N) largely drowned out the words - like the ship's doctor insulting their captain for calling him a good one or the sceleton man asking her for the colour of her panties. She'd get to know them soon enough anyways.
"So and that's - "
"The pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro", (Y/N) finished for the Straw Hat.
"Oh, you already know each other?", Nami raised an eyebrow.
"Your reputation precedes you", the woman answered almost... bitterly?
"Oooh looks like somebody has a fan", the long nosed guy - Usopp - started teasing the swordsman.
"I wouldn't say that", (Y/N) mumbled as she left the crew standing.
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"Hey, (Y/N)! Can I talk to you for a sec?", Nami walked up to (Y/N), who, at the moment, was sitting down near the railing watching the water.
The girl raised her brows to show the red-head she was listening, but remained silent for the time being.
"You know today, when you ran back for your stuff, I really thought you finally came back to your senses but you didn't go for all the valuables... why? All you saved was this... book?"
The other woman just shrugged, "I got what I wanted"
"At first I wasn't sure what it was, you were looking for but then I talked to Sanji and he told me he's seen that kind of book before. A devil fruit encyclopedia... Why is it so important to you that you couldn't leave it?"
"Listen, Nami. I'm sorry I put you all in danger but I needed that book"
And with that the black market dealer left the navigator standing.
"She's even worse than Robin", the red-head mumbled to herself.
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It's been a few weeks since (Y/N) joined the Straw Hats and for the most parts it's been uneventful. For the first week or so she preferred to keep to herself but it was Sanji especially that wouldn't accept no for an answer whenever he told her to come eat dinner with the crew. But even then she made sure to always sit at the far end of the table to bring the most distance between herself and him.
She hadn't spoken a single word to the swordsman since setting foot on the ship and she was thankful that he didn't seem to care about trying to either.
"Don't mind the stupid Marimo. He's a brute. He wouldn't even know how to talk to such a beautiful flower as yourself ~", Sanji would regularly tell her but she'd just send him a tight smile and change the topic.
At the moment, she was sitting on deck tinkering around with Franky. She wasn't the best at crafting but she knew the tools so playing his assistent wasn't the worst past-time.
"I'm glad we got that tool before the marines stormed your warehouse", the cyborg told her, "I'm gonna build us some suuuuper cool stuff with it"
(Y/N) was just about to hand him another wrench when Zoro passed them on his way to the crows nest. During her time there she noticed that the lookout kind of was his personal training space. Of course, everybody was welcome to use it but nobody spent as much time there as the pirate hunter so she made a mental note to always stay clear of it. Her eyes lingered on the taller man's back as he passed them.
"(Y/N)!", Franky's voice pulled her back to reality and she had to pull herself together to not drop the wrench she was holding. This couldn't keep going like that. If she got distracted during a fight things might end up ugly - she knew that much.
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"Come with me?", he held out his hand to her knowing exactly that his question was only a formality. There wasn't a chance in the world that (Y/N) would ever let him leave without her - or quite frankly the other way around.
"You're insanse", she laughed but grabbed his hand without hesitation. They've known each other since they were only children - it was never a question of if but rather of when they'd finally get together.
"But you know you love me", he grinned at her, pulling her into his chest for a playful kiss.
She woke up and for a moment she felt at peace with the world, wanting to turn around snuggling into her pillow again. The rhythmic sound of breathing in the room calming her into a state of betweent sleep and being awake. But then she remembered... These breathing sounds weren't his. In fact, it was all just a dream.
Confronted with the harshness of reality she didn't feel like sleeping anymore, afraid of yet another dream that would give her a false sense of familiarity. Instead she slipped into a cardigan and decided to get some fresh air.
Once outside on deck, she took a deep breath. She enjoyed how cold the air was in those morning hours. The sun was just starting to rise - not even enough to paint the sky in these pink and orange tones she found so pretty.
"Couldn't sleep again?", the gruff voice made her jump. It was the first time that Zoro had spoken to her since she joined the crew but that didn't mean she wasn't familiar with his voice. It was almost involuntarily that her ears almost instantly perked up and her heart started racing whenever he started speaking around her. He triggered her fight, flight, freeze instinct and to her demise it was always freeze.
"Had a bad night", her voice was coarse.
"Seems to happen often"
She furrowed her brows. What was his deal? As if he could read her mind, Zoro continued.
"Out of the last five weeks, I was on night watch twelve times. And you were awake for at least ten of those times. And those were only the times I noticed"
"I-", she swallowed, "Being on a ship again just brings back some memories I haven't thought about in a long time..."
She didn't know why she told Zoro of all people but she couldn't take it back now anymore anyways...
"You've been to sea before?"
She let out a dry, humorless laugh.
'I don't want to talk about it. At least not with you', she thought to herself.
What she said instead was, "My fiance was a captain - My captain to be specific"
Zoro raised his brows, "You were engaged?"
The memory was bittersweet. She smiled sadly. The swordfighter noticed how pretty she was eventhough her smile didn't reach her eyes.
"We were young", she shrugged.
"So it ended badly I take it?", there wasn't a hint of empathy in his voice. What did she expect? Getting involved with your captain rarely ends well.
"Let's talk about something else...", she knew Zoro's mind probably immediately went to heartbreak but if she had the chance, she'd do it all over again as long as he was with her.
"You've been avoiding me", he stated, "why?"
Zoro wasn't a fan of beating around the bush. Of course he had noticed that the girl went out of her way to never having to interact with him in any way. He didn't sweat it though. He wasn't desperate for a new friend. If there was a new team mate, so be it. Didn't mean they had to like each other. What he was curious about, however, was why she seemed to apprehensive about getting to know him.
"I guess I just didn't want to risk starting to like you", she shook her head knowing how ridiculous that sounded.
Zoro furrowed his brows. From all the possible answers he could've gotten, this wasn't one he'd have expected. He was almost a little offended now.
"You didn't seem to mind getting to know the others"
"That's different", she sighed. He noticed how exhausted she looked.
"You knew me when you first joined the crew", he continued.
"Doesn't the whole world know you by now? The Straw Hats are notorious"
He didn't take this for an answer.
"You know as good as me that this is something entirely different. What I don't know, however, is what I did to you"
"Of course, you don't", she laughed bitterly. She knew that she wasn't fair to him. She didn't expect him to remember but she couldn't help it. Zoro blinked a few times, trying to figure out what it was the girl was talking about.
She sighed, "Do you ever have any regrets about being a bounty hunter in the past?"
He had never thought about that but he slowly shook his head after thinking about her words for a few seconds. He still wasn't sure what she was on about but he wanted to understand.
"I don't believe in regret", he answered. There wasn't anything he could do about his past. Back then he never would've thought that he'd ever become a pirate himself after making a name for himself as the pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro but what happened happend. He tried not to rack his brains over it.
"Well, I do", she mused.
"(Y/N)", he wanted to tell her to just tell him what's going on but hesitated once he saw how she tensed up when her name left his lips. He almost felt bad for her, she looked so helpless. It wasn't like him to feel like that but something felt different about this situation.
"Nomi Malik", she sighed, "I don't suppose the name rings a bell..."
At first, Zoro wasn't sure who she was talking about. She could see his eyes moving trying to remember but then his brows creased just the tiniest bit. He did remember. Nomi Malik was one of the last pirates he caught before becoming one himself.
"Yes, I remember. Devil Fruit User... not very strong though. What about him?"
His words stung. They were true, of course they were. And then again they weren't. Malik wasn't weak. He had a hefty bounty on his head - otherwise Zoro wouldn't have wasted his time on him and his crew but the swordsman was extremely skilled - even before he became one of the Straw Hat Pirates. She didn't blame him stating the obvious though. When she visibly struggled to find the right words, he continued.
"Did you know him?"
'That's an understatement', she thought to herself.
Instead, she just nodded. He stayed quiet waiting for her to continue. He noticed the sun was starting to rise, casting a golden hue upon her features.
"We grew up together", she turned to look towards the horizon, "I can't remember a time when he wasn't there... well, except for now, of course..." - she got quiet upon the realization - "when he asked me to join him, it wasn't even a question"
Zoro raised his brows. He knew he didn't remember every single person he ever hunted down but he was sure that (Y/N) was never one of them.
"If you were part of his crew...", he tried to vocalize his thoughts.
"Then why didn't you catch me along with the rest of his crew?", she finished his question for him, "well, I hadn't had a bounty back then. I was completely irrelevant to you"
"So, where's he now? Impel Down? You know Luffy broke half of the inmates out a few years ago... He could be out there somewhere...", Zoro shrugged. What had happened to her was unfortunate but he just did what he had to do to survive. To say he felt bad would be a lie.
The girl opposite of him slowly shook her head though, "Wanted dead or alive...". She emphazised the word to show him that the marine truly didn't care. Either option was fine with them as long as there was a pirate less roaming the sea.
The swordsman was taken aback. What reason would the marines have to do this? They had imprisoned pirated way more powerful than Nomi's crew.
"No, that-"
"I was there", she cut him off, "I followed you when you handed them over. Right outside the marine base"
The smile returned on her face as she stared off somewhere into the distance.
"You were incredibly skilled even back then... of course there's no comparison to now... after your training with Mihawk, I mean"
Zoro knew he was good but the praise didn't feel as great as he was used to. At the moment, the only thing he felt was a weight upon his chest. He never felt remorse for his enemies but he was also never confronted with their surviving loved ones before. Most people thought of Zoro as cruel, heartless, a brute but that wasn't necessarily true. There were people he cared about - he just didn't show it. Besides, he knew how it felt like to lose someone.
"What happened?", he asked her, still not sure how thinks could've escalated.
"Malik was a lot like Luffy in a sense. Adventurous, fun-loving, great leader - stubborn though. There was no way he'd let himself and his crew get captured without a fight. He became a pirate for freedom. To see the world. He couldn't have that behind bars. I don't think he seriously thought he'd stand a chance. It was just his- I mean our crew against the whole base"
She made her way over the battlefield towards her lover. Slow. Too slow for her liking. For every yard she made she had to fight off two or three marines. Granted, most of them were only low ranking officers but there were too many for her liking. But for a moment things looked like they were turning in their favour - or at least favourable enough. Starting a fight was smart. If they played their chances right they could flee in the commotion.
From across the battlefield (Y/N)'s and Malik's eyes met. He sent her a darin wink looking as handsome as ever. She couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh. Only her daredevil of a boyfriend could make this high stress situation somewhat romantic. 'I love you', he mouthed over to her but she didn't get the chance to answer anymore as a new wave of marines stormed the plaza in front of the base.
As more and more marines flooded the place it became harder and harder for (Y/N) and her crew to hold out against their attacks. When the first one of their crewmate's bodies hit the ground (Y/N) knew there would be no fleeing. She loved how loyal her lover was. Loyal to her and to his crew. But this also meant that this fight would have to end - one way or another.
The blood was rushing in her ears as (Y/N) witnessed more and more of her crewmates being critcally hit. Her friends. People she grew up with. Good people. She stood still for a moment. She saw Malik's first mate lying on the ground a few feet ahead of her. She and him used to play cards together. It was him who taught her the rules of the game and it was her who showed him how to cheat people out of their money by bending even those rules. Next to her their navigator crashed to the floor. (Y/N) knew him since she was a little girl. He always knew the best routes and alleys to get away from the vendors that would chase after them when they yet again decided to steal candies and little toys from them. Nobody knew their little village as good as him. She felt helpless - lightheaded almost - but she didn't have the luxury of taking the time to mourn her friends as she had to focus on getting ahead. Closer towards were Malik was fighting against a vice-admiral at the moment.
Her captain was a devil fruit user but his powers didn't seem to have any effect on the vice-admiral. (Y/N) knew this could mean one thing only - this guy's Haki was way stronger than Malik's. She knew she needed to get to them. She was aware that she couldn't be of much help, even without his devil fruit powers Malik was much stronger than her but whatever they did, they did it together.
She was still busy fighting several marines when a loud slashing sound followed by a muffled scream cut through the air. (Y/N)'s head whipped around just in time to see Malik's body hit the floor as well now. After the vice-admiral made sure the other male wasn't in any shape to get up and continue the fight, he just left him there to bleed out and die.
The ringing sound in (Y/N)'s ears was back and everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. As fast as her legs would carry her she hurried towards were her lover was lying in the dirt - the fight forgotten. A patch of his own blood staining his clothes growing bigger and bigger by the minute.
"Malik!", she screamed his name, tears already forming in her eyes. As she finally reached him, she wasted no time immediately sliding on her knees pressing her hands on the deep wound on his torso.
"It's okay now. I'm here. It's going to be okay", she babbled probably more to soothe herself rather than the dying love of her life beneath her.
"Baby... Ba-baby, listen. You need to leave", eventhough she could see in how much pain he was, the man - her captain - still send her a reassuring smile. His teeth and lips were already coloured red from his own blood but he still looked so incredibly handsome to her. He was still her Malik.
"What? No! Why would I do that? I'm not leaving you", the tears were now streaming freely down her face.
"You don't have a bounty. They don't even know who you are yet. This is your only chance. Please, I'm begging you. Leave"
How come all of them had to die while (Y/N), who was less strong - less experienced - got to live? It didn't seem fair to her. She shook her head making the tears fall everywhere from the motion. She wouldn't leave. If her whole crew, her captain, the man she loved with all her heart had to die, she'd go with them.
"What are you saying there?", she smiled through the tears, "We're in this together. I'm not leaving. I'm not", she repated the last phrase over and over again. Malik tried to gently interrupt her ramble but she wouldn't have it. It was almost like she didn't even hear him. It was only when he finally raised his voice that she fell silent and really listened to what he was saying.
"I don't have much time left, so listen to me now. I'm still your captain so you gotta do what I tell you", he tried to sound serious but failed knowing that their relationship has always been grounds for teasing within the whole crew and even among themselves. Even now, whilst being in pain and bleeding out, he never lost his happy spirit she fell in love with. She was reminded of the reality of the situation when his happy laugh soon turned into a hurtful cough, "I love you. I've loved you forever. And I always will. I'm sorry I never got to make you my wife. I'm sorry for being too stubborn. I'm sorry for everything"
There's so much she wanted to tell him. That there was nothing to be sorry about. That she'd do it all again. That she loved him more than anything. But all she could do was sob and put pressure on his wound to try and slow down the bleeding.
"Please. You need to leave now. I'll be fine - it's like going to sleep. It's easy. But- but I need you to be fine as well", he nodded up at her as she felt his hands on top of hers moving them away, releasing the pressure she was putting on the lethal wound on his torso. As soon as her hands left their place the blood started gushing and spilling over his body, making the pool of blood he was lying in rapidly increase in size. She cupped his face with one of her hands, stroking through his hair with the other, staining both in the process. Still crying she leaned down and pressed one last kiss on his lips that were already starting to become cold from the blood loss. The kiss tasted like the blend of her tears and his blood - salty and like iron. For a moment only him and her mattered. She knew those were the last moments that she'd ever have with her lover and she cherished every second of it.
A loud crash pulled her back to reality. The fight was lost and she knew she needed to get away. She took one last look at the love of her life before standing up and leaving him there - along with a piece of herself.
"I really miss him...", her voice grew thick and she swallowed to pull herself together. She wasn't the same since that day. She struggled with those memories. In fact, she didn't know which ones were worse - the happy memories from her dream or rather those painful ones. (Y/N) avoided thinking about it too much - she was plagued by guilt ever since she got to live while others had to die, "I had to leave the bodies there... They - the marine I mean - they didn't even bury them properly. They were just all thrown in some kind of unmarked mass grave or something... like... like a bunch of dogs"
Zoro didn't know what to say. The way the girl sat before him, he could tell how painful this all was to her and he felt bad that he was the reason for it. Contrary to popular belief, Zoro wasn't as clueless as most people thought. Most of the time he simply didn't care to pay enough attention but right now he had listened to every single word that left her lips and yet had still no idea what to say. He was truly lost for words.
"I'm... sorry", as soon as Zoro spoke the words he realized how foolish they sounded. Almost as if to apologize for eating the last desert or borrowing something without asking beforehand - not for indirectly being responsible for the death of a loved one. He wanted to tell her that he too knows how it feels to lose someone. That he never meant for that to happen but instead he just remained silent.
She sighed and quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with the palms of her hands.
"I have no ill will towards you. You only did what you had to do to survive. It's a dog eat dog world out there. I know this as good as you", she sent him a shaky smile, "You didn't kill him. It was his decision to fight. It's just... seeing you here again. Everyday. It brings back memories. I see you and I think of him. I can't help it. I know it's not fair to you but that's the only way I know how to cope at the moment", she shrugged like it wasn't that big of a deal but her inability to hold his gaze for even a second showed how she truly felt.
The morning sun was now fully out and slowly the other Straw Hats started to fill the deck - starting with Sanji, who was usually the first to get up everyday to prepare breakfast for the whole crew. (Y/N) decided to join him like most days. She was awake anyways so preparing breakfast with Sanji became like her little morning ritual. She sent Zoro a small smile before she left him sitting there alone with his thoughts.
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Zoro didn't show up for breakfast that day. (Y/N) was thankful for it. That morning was emotionally draining for her but there was also something else... It was the first time she's ever spoken about what had happened back then and apart from the vulnerability it felt good to properly allow herself to think of her old friends and her former lover again. She did allow herself to mourn them right after it happened but the guilt was overwhelming and most of the time she wished for herself to be dead as well. To combat those feelings she abandoned the memories of her old crew altogether - the hurtful ones as well as the happy ones - until she didn't think about them at all anymore. Of course, she never forgot them. She still had a goal to reach, but she just didn't allow herself to indulge in those memories anymore in fear of the emptiness inside of her returning. Today, was different though. Talking to Zoro about everything, re-living the situation hurt, but now that she was sitting in the dining area sorrounded by her new crew - that familiar hopelessness never came.
"Oi, where's Zoro?", Luffy spoke through a mouth-full of food.
"It was his turn with night watch duty tonight. He's probably catching up on sleep", Dr. Chopper explained. He was right. It wasn't unusual for the night guards to be absent during breakfast in the morning - especially for Zoro, who took any opportunity he could to squeeze in a good nap whenever he got the chance - but Sanji would usually make sure that whoever's turn it was would eat first and then go to bed.
"Fine by me", the captain laughed happily as he grabbed another stack of food from across the table, "that mean I get to eat Zoro's portion then"
(Y/N) silently agreed with the Straw Hat, not minding the swordfighter's absence at all. It was Sanji that wasn't having any of it though.
"Who does he think he is? (Y/N)-san and I spent all this time preparing this food. Cooking, frying, baking... And this stupid marimo doesn't even show up? Doesn't he know wasting food is a cardinal sin in my kitchen?"
"Oi, Sanji calm down. I don't think any food is going to wast", (Y/N) motioned to Luffy, who grabbed yet another set of plates, shoving everything in his mouth at once, "besides, we've all skipped breakfast before..."
Her words had the desired effect and the cook did indeed shut up about Zoro, so that she could finally enjoy the rest of her food in peace without having to worry about the moss head.
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After breakfast (Y/N) decided to spend some time with the others, doing chores, training and generally enjoying the day. The sun was out and Nami decided this was the perfect weather to sunbathe a little. And so (Y/N) found herself along with Nami and Robin, who preffered to read under a parasol, on deck soaking up the sun whilst being served and taken care off by Sanji. (Y/N) could've done without the overbearing cook bringing them iced tea and little snacks every few minutes but Nami insisted that he enjoyed being of service so they should just lean back and enjoy - which she eventually did.
It was only when Zoro did not show up for dinner either that she realized that (Y/N) hadn't seen the swordsman at all that day after their talk in the wee hours of the morning. For a moment she pondered if she should fix him a plate and bring it up to the crows nest, so that he didn't have to go hungry but then quickly decided against it. If he didn't want to see her, she wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable by forcing herself on him. 'He'll surely wander into the kitchen after dinner is finished and fetch himself some leftovers', she thought to herself, 'And tomorrow everything will be back to normal'
But the next morning Zoro still didn't show up for breakfast. Or dinner. Or the breakfast the morning after.
"Hey, Usopp... who's turn was it to keep night watch ?", she furrowed her brows. Did the swordfighter switch with Nami again in exchange for some extra allowance so that he could buy more booze during their next errand run? It was a win-win situation for the both of them. Nami got to have her 'much needed beauty-sleep' whilst Zoro could earn some money on the side. He usually slept during guard duty anyways, relying on his instincts to kick in should something or rather someone try to start shit. She halted for a second, when did she get to know him that well?
"Uh? Franky's I think, why?", the long-nosed sniper answered her but was quickly dimissed by a hand gesture from the black market dealer. This was weird... Was he mad at her now?
Ever since that morning with Zoro, she slept well - great actually. Granted, it was a dreamless sleep but she preferred it like this at that moment in time. When she awoke in the morning, she realized that she had slept in. A little disgruntled about nobody waking her for breakfast she made her way into the dining area.
She didn't expect to find the swordsman sitting there. Their talk was now about a week ago and still he had somehow successfully managed to avoid her at all costs. She didn't see him during mealtime. She didn't see him roaming the ship. He didn't even nap at his usual spots, whenever (Y/N) was nearby. (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. There definitely was a feeling in her chest and she definitely knew that it wasn't a good feeling but she couldn't quite tell what it was... Was it guilt? Guilt for dumping all her trauma onto him? Annoyance that it was now him that somehow couldn't stand even being in the same space as her? No... it was something else entirely... Whatever it was, she didn't like it. Talking to him - speaking her feelings - she hadn't felt so at peace in ages and she was thankful for the opportunity and now it felt like she created herself another problem.
When she entered the dining area, several heads turned to her, greeting her, teasing her for sleeping in but (Y/N) only had eyes for a certain mosshead at the very head of the table. Her heart involuntarily skipped a beat. She was glad to see him - a thought for which she would've bitten her own tongue a week ago. Maybe she was simply over-thinking and everything could go back to normal now...
Zoro however had other plans as he slowly lowered the cup he was holding, placing it back on the table, getting up in the process.
"Where do you think you're going?", Sanji started but the pirate hunter didn't even stop walking.
" 'M full", he mumbled as he passed the girl that was still standing in the doorway.
"Zoro... you don't-", she tried to reason with him, still in disbelief about what she was seeing but he didn't acknowledge her.
Luffy was already all over Zoro's leftover whilst Sanji was still raging about there being leftovers at all when (Y/N), who hadn't moved an inch, too shocked by what just had happened, finally spoke up - although more to herself, "I'm not hungry"
With that she turned on her heel leaving the Straw Hats sitting there perplexed about what it was they had just witnessed.
"What was that?", Usopp asked no emotion on his face or in his voice.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say relationship troubles", Nami answered not enjoying the thought of not knowing about what was up with those two. Little did she know that neither (Y/N) nor Zoro had any idea themselves. However from then on, neither of them would show up where they expected the other to be present aswell, which - to be fair - on a ship could be anytime or anywhere, so they mostly stuck to themselves. Zoro in the crowsnest and (Y/N) in the aquarium.
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Yet another fight. Why did these damn Straw Hats always have to get themselves into some kind of trouble? (Y/N) had heard about the G-5 marines before. She heard horror stories about the marines of this branch being insane and needlessly cruel, torturing pirates for fun, killing them without reason but (Y/N) didn't dwell on it. She learned years ago to not fear death anymore but even if she did, there wouldn't be much reason for it. The Straw Hats really were as strong as the people in the bars were telling themselves behind their hands whenever they entered the establishment.
She had never seen anybody fight the way Luffy did, using Haki and his devil fruit power almost effortlessly. If she wasn't so preoccupied with the marines she was fighting off, she'd just stand there and watch her captain fight the vice-admiral that the people called Smoker the White Hunter. Neither of them holding back on their attacks.
But it wasn't only Luffy, who was extremely powerful. She quickly realized that every single one of the crew could hold their own in a fight, making her scramble to prover her worth as well. She'd be damned if someone had to rescue her during their first real brawl.
She had to admit seeing Zoro fight, triggered some uneasy feelings she quickly had to abandon to the back of her mind. He was the only one whom she had seen fight before but last time they unfortunately weren't on the same side. Of course, he greatly improved from back then to now - she was glad she didn't have to stand before him on the battlefield. Fighting almost seemed to be fun to him but not in a way that she had seen with Luffy or even Malik. It wasn't a carefree happiness. She heard people talk about the pirate hunter as if he wasn't fully human - part demon even - but she always dismissed these rumours as drunken tavern talk nothing more, nothing less but now (Y/N) knew what it was they were talking about. If it weren't for the semi-friendly competition between him and Sanji, she'd be more concerned but as the two of them were at each others throat whenever they had a free minute, she figured it was normal.
Zoro must've struck down close to double the amount of marines that the rest of the crew had managed to defeat in the same time when he suddenly stopped, his devilish demenour forgotten. (Y/N) forrowed her brows, trying to understand what was going on over there. Who was that woman facing Zoro and why was he not fighting her? She knew Sanji never kicked a lady but (Y/N) has seen Zoro fight women before. So why was he not moving?
As the two of them were in the middle of what seemed to be a heated discussion in which the female captain tried to attack the green-headed fighter to get him to fight her, (Y/N) noticed that Zoro was so busy deflecting her hits that he didn't even noticed two marines wildly starting an attack from behind.
With a few long strides, (Y/N) stood between the pirate hunter and his attackers, striking them down in the process.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You should've seen that coming!", she yelled at him already finding herself in the next one on one fight. It was as if the pirate hunter was snapped out of his daze as he quickly made an exit, leaving the marine captain behind.
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"Hey", he walked up to her where she was sitting gazing at the surface of the water. The sun had already started to set and it was a bit chilly outside, so it was only the two of them on deck of the Sunny. (Y/N) couldn't help but to be reminded of the last time the both of them were alone out there, feeling at peace and strangely familiar with the mosshead.
"I saved your ass out there today", she told him, still not taking her eyes off of the water, "who was she? The marine captain with the glasses I mean"
Zoro hesitated for a moment. He didn't like talking about personal stuff. That was nobody's business anyways but she had opened up to him as well. She trusted him with her trauma, so maybe he should do so as well? Before he could make a decision, the dealer interrupted his thoughts.
"You could've easily taken her. I've watched her - she's good... but now that good", she was now looking at him, Zoro couldn't quite read the look on her face, "Listen, you do you but if we really are a crew I need to know that I can trust you..."
The fighter sighed but ultimately decided to tell (Y/N) all about Kuina, their goal and his promise to her. When he finished it was him that couldn't stand to hold her gaze anymore.
"That's very noble of you - holding on to your promise after all those years, I mean", she sent him a soft smile. Zoro noticed that she didn't seem to have any problems finding the right words. She didn't just stutter out an 'I'm sorry' for lack of a better idea.
The mosshead shrugged. Not even know he knew what to say to properly portray why becoming the strongest was so important to him.
"I understand, you know?", she continued, "I have a goal too. It's not as honourable as yours and it's entirely selfish to be honest but it's the reason I've become a black market dealer and just between the both of us? It's also the only reason I joined you guys", she lowered her voice for the last part eventhough she knew nobody could hear them.
Zoro was still hung up on her calling him honourable. That word was the last thing he would've described himself.
"What is your goal?", his voice was deep, no inflections, but he was genuinely interested.
She laughed to herself embarrassed about her ambitions but then decided to keep talking - albeit without looking at him, "I've never talked about this to anybody... When Malik died I swore to myself I'd find his devil fruit. I've been looking for years. Built up an underground trading network, buying and selling all kinds of useless junk so that I always have the funds to pay for should my vendors some day offer me the right one. No luck so far"
Zoro blinked a few times. He remembered Nomi's devil fruit. Whoever ate the fruit gained the ability to plant visions in their enemies heads gaining an advantage in combat situations but...
"Here in the New World many - if not all - people have Haki. You'd have to be very strong to overcome that", he tried to be gentle with his delivery, not wanting to insult her by implying that she'd be too weak to be a devil fruit user. She turned to fully face him now.
"Oh, I know...", she paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words, "it's just - I couldn't stand the thought of anybody else having his fruit. Being on the battlefield and having to fight against something that was such a core component of what made him him"
"So you just want to have it?"
She shrugged, "Don't tell Luffy I said that but I always thought a pirate that can't swim is a little foolish anyways. A recipe for disaster really"
For a moment the two just looked at each other but then the girl broke out in a huge grin. He hadn't seen her smile properly ever since she joined the crew. She was friendly to everybody - sans him of course - but she was never really happy. She tried to stop it by biting her lip but that made it only more charming to him.
"You saved me today", he dead-panned, looking down at her not knowing how to show his grattitude as he wasn't used to being saved. It was usually him that did the saving.
"I did"
"Why? I thought my presence brings back bad memories", his voice was low barely but a whisper.
"That doesn't mean I want you to die, you idiot", she sounded almost offended by his suggestion, "You've been avoiding me", she continued, now wanting some answers for herself.
"I didn't want you to be forced to eat at the same table with me. All those things that happened to you..."
She looked at him with a sad expression on her face placing a hand on his forearm. Usually the swordsman would've pulled his arm away but he just let her, "Zoro, I've told you before I don't blame you for what happened"
"Even if that were true, you said seeing me reminded you of what happened. So I stayed away"
She tried to find the right words to express her feelings. On one hand she felt incredibly guilty that he felt he needed to isolate himself from his crew - his nakama - just so that she would feel better and on the other hand she wanted to yell at him that he was being stupid. That he did too much. But there was also another feeling inside (Y/N)'s chest. Was it thankfulness? He had shown her that her feelings and comfort was in this moment more important to him than his own.
Zoro didn't know what to expect now. Did he do too much? Why was he so bad at interpreting people's emotions?? Much to his surprise the girl leapt into his arms, though, hugging him tightly. At first, he was a little overwhelmed but soon hugged her back.
"Thank you, Zoro", she mumbled into his shoulder, where her face was buried.
"I- Don't mention it...", he decided to tighten his grip around her waist a little, "You said- that you didn't want to risk starting to like me-"
He couldn't even finish what he was trying to say as the woman who was comfortably nestled in his arms wiggled and struggled to free herself from his grip. Why did he say that? He scolded himself. Why would he remind her of her resolution to keep her distance. There were a thousand thoughts rushing through his head - which would've been a lot for any person, but was even more especialy for Zoro, who usually didn't think much about things. But maybe that was the problem, he told himself. At least he had a good poker face...
"Zoro, look at me", she put both her hands on either side of his face to make sure he'd actually look at her, "it's a little late for that... I like you already"
"You- you do?", the mosshead couldn't help but to sound surprised.
"Yep", she popped the 'p', Zoro's eye flickered down to her lips for just the fraction of a second. He hoped that she didn't notice but no such luck.
"I think I've liked you since the first time we talked, I just didn't realize it until you started avoiding me", she leaned in closer, sliding her hands from the sides of his face to the back of his neck. He could feel her breath on his lips now as she voice was barely above a whisper, "Can I kiss you?"
He didn't even answer. Instead he leaned down and pressed his lips onto hers and it didn't take long for (Y/N) to return the kiss. It wasn't hungry or passionate. They didn't make out. It was sweet and it was full of emotions.
"So that's what you two have been doing during mealtime, huh?"
The two of them jumped apart as they heard Usopp's voice.
"And here I was starting to think the two of you disliked each other", Nami added.
(Y/N) and Zoro shared a look trying to gauge how the other wanted to handle this.
"If you only knew..."
************************************************************************
Epilogue
It's been a few weeks since Usopp and Nami caught the two of them on deck. They both decided to let them believe whatever they thought they deduced on the spot. (Y/N) was happy either way. Of course, she would never be able to forget what had happened in front of that marine base a few years back - she didn't even want to forget - but she decided it was time for her to move one. She knew Malik would want that for her. And whenever she wandered the deck in the wee hours of the morning now it was not because she was plaqued by the bad memories, but solely because she decided to keep the green-headed swordfighter company and sit by the water and talk, daydream and watch the sea.
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solarisfortuneia · 10 months
Text
— 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬.
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diluc is hopeless with grocery shopping. luckily, a kind stranger is more than willing to step in and help.
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✦ info: diluc has no idea what he's doing and neither does the author, modern au, strangers to lovers kinda, possibility of ooc-ness, grammar mistakes may be present, there is absolutely no logic here, 2k+ words.
✦ warnings: none.
✦ notes: well, it's this fic again! thought i'd repost it because i'm in the middle of working on a sequel. though with my time management please don't expect it to be posted anytime soon lmao (and don't worry! i still have the original taglist saved.)
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would it be far fetched to call grocery shopping an art? and to call one able to navigate the labyrinthine aisles efficiently nothing short of a master? 
perhaps it would be. 
though, if it was an art, you'd be but a mediocre artist. not horribly unskilled, but no one would be in awe of your nonexistent prowess at brandishing coupons at cash registers. 
you shake your thoughts away. what are you thinking? who made you so eloquent in the middle of aisle seven? you ask yourself, gaze scanning the various items on the shelves. focus on your groceries, dummy.
okay, let's see, now. you stop in the middle of the condiments aisle, recollecting the items you need.  ah yes, ketchup and mayo. hmm, where would they be? 
aha! you see two familiar bottles on the second shelf, and you carefully place them in your cart. a glass jar with a green label and a red lid catches your eye. chili paste? you consider your potential purchase. eh, i'll get it. it's on sale.   
now, let's get some rice.
you round the corner to get to the grain aisle when you see a man, clad in a brown coat and incredibly polished shoes, with hair so red you'd think his head was on fire, just. glaring. at a bag of rice. you sneak a glance at him, wondering if the rice had wronged him in some manner.
deciding to ignore him, you pick up a five kilogram bag, then heave it into your trolley. and as you prepare to push it with the extra weight, you spy the man picking up the exact same bag, brand, weight and all. huh.
thinking nothing of it, you continue on your merry way, hoping to get your shopping done as quickly as possible, assuming that it'd be the last you'd ever see of the man.
but it appears fate had other plans. you spot him once again in the canned foods aisle, glaring at another innocent, harmless grocery item. the victim this time, you ask? a can of baked beans. 
you throw another sideways look at him, lightly tapping the pads of your fingers against the handles of your trolley. who even is this guy? you silently watch as he picks up the same brand you've put in your cart moments before. ah, he was probably just confused.
however, you’re still a little concerned about the man. does a grown man truly not know what he's doing in a grocery store? you scan the shelves for a random item, and your eyes land on a can of baby food. a light bulb goes off in your head, and you decide to test something. quickly, you grab two of them.
you open your mouth the second after he moves to get the same thing. “can i help you, sir?” he freezes at the sound of your voice, hand halfway between his body and the shelf with the exact thing you just picked up, baby food in hand. you raise an eyebrow, "are you aware of what you're buying?" 
he sheepishly rakes his hand through his hair and shakes his head. "i'm afraid i'm not." he clears his throat, color beginning to creep up his neck. 
you grin at him. “check the label on the can.” you watch as this giant of a man turns the can around, and slowly turns into a human stop sign with the way his face blazes. you know you probably shouldn’t find the sight of the man with such an intimidating expression turning to a flustered mess so adorable. 
“my apologies,” he clears his throat again, then rubs the back of his neck, eyes averted. “i’ve never been shopping before.” he sets the can back, refusing to meet your eyes.
“oh, don't tell me.” you tease, lightheartedly. “is it a case of a rich boy living on his own for the first time, without anyone to do things for him?”
the look on his face answers for him. his eyebrows nearly climb to his hairline, and he blinks. you laugh, incredibly surprised at your assumption being true. “in that case, let me help.” you hold out your hand, taking pity on the man. “do you have a list?”
he fishes out a hastily scribbled list from the depths of one of his coat pockets that simply says bread, milk. 
sigh. “it seems i have my work cut out for me.” you take a gander at the items in his cart and spot the rice, the beans, along with three varieties of bread and a two liter bottle of milk. well, at least he got the items on his list.
you pick up the bottle, skimming over the other details to find the production and expiry dates. “just out of curiosity, did you check the dates on the milk?” 
he slowly shakes his head. “i figured as much.” you gesture to the numbers, and motion for him to take a look. “this expires in two days. i doubt you’ll be able to finish the whole thing by then, so you should probably find a bottle with a more recent production date.”
if there ever was a god of grocery shopping, diluc ragnvindr would be the bane of his existence. 
why were these stupid stores so confusing? why were there so many brands of everything? why in the hell were there so many types of oranges? and these trolleys, good lord. just why were they so difficult to maneuver?
all the aisles blend into each other, and all diluc can do is stare emptily at each product he finds, unable to make a decision. 
he'd have better luck finding his way around if he was randomly dropped in a venetian calle.
diluc has no idea what he's doing— in the store, at home, even in life. 
living on his own for the first time since his dad passed away, in an apartment much tinier than the lavish mansion he was used to, struggling to keep his head above water, the young ragnvindr only knew ingredients once they'd been taken home and properly organized in containers and shelves. 
he'd rather the world not see him fumbling, though. so he decides to do the only logical thing one can do in his situation. he picks a person and does exactly what they do. 
after all, when one is in rome, do they not do as the romans do?
in hindsight, he should've just researched online. he should have decided his purchases earlier. or ordered the damn groceries online. because then he'd be able to avoid the embarrassment of being tricked with a can of baby food. 
baby food, of all things! why couldn't it be something a little more dignified? 
he watches you quickly replace the offending item on the shelves and push your cart in another direction before he could react. “come on, then. off to the dairy section we go.”
not wanting to be left behind in this headache inducing location, he hurriedly pushes his trolley too in an attempt to keep up with you. kaeya would never let me live that down, he thinks as he does. 
with a pang, he shoves down the memory of his brother as far and as deep as he can, choosing to focus on the present, lest he end up in another spiral.
you lead him to milk he was supposed to get, and he watches you carefully as you examine the dates on the bottles for him. moments later, you beckon him close with a curl of your palm. leaning slightly, he peers over your shoulder. 
“always try to get the one most recently produced,” you tell him, and he nods. he follows the movement of your finger tapping your chin, clearly pondering. his gaze travels a bit higher, and as he sees your lips move, he realizes that he completely missed what you were saying.
“pardon?” he stumbles ungracefully on the initial sound. 
“what's your favorite fruit?” you repeat. “that'll be first on our list on what to get for you.”
his favorite fruit? he didn't think he had one. “peaches,” he blurts, finding himself unwilling to disappoint you with his lack of proper response, his eyes falling on a peach milkshake drink. 
his ears note your change in tone, voice turning excited. “oh, they're one of my favorites too!” warmth engulfs his gloved hand and he finds himself being dragged to the produce section. 
“what about the trolleys?” he asks, mind still reeling from the sudden hand grabbing on your part.
you wave off his concerns. “oh, they'll be fine parked to the side.” you all but drag him to the peach display. “now, pay close attention, okay?”
as if he needed you to tell him that. “i'm listening,” he says. 
you pick up a peach with bruising. “when you're sorting through peaches, look for the ones with no blemishes. they don't spoil as fast. same with apples and pears and such.” now this, he knew. but he still nods along, a picture-perfect student. he sees your eyes and wonders how anyone's could be so gorgeous.
later, he dutifully nods a little more as you explain the specifics of choosing potatoes. 
“the potatoes should be firm, and there should be no signs of green,” 
should he be taking notes? he stamps the involuntary urge to hunt for a notepad in one of his pockets down, deciding he did not want to embarrass himself any more in front of you.
you seemed to glow even under the unflattering light around you, hair lit by it as you tell him about how to look for the right cauliflowers and broccoli. 
how could someone look so ethereal while standing next to onions? 
diluc ragnvindr. get. a. grip. they're only talking about vegetables. 
you ask him to tell you the price of the eggs while you sort through carrots for both him and yourself. he walks over a couple of yards, carefully examines the label and returns to report the number. 
“that much?!” you eyes widen. “my goodness, that should be considered robbery!”
...was it? he thought it was a reasonable price for a carton of eggs. still, he blindly agrees. you smile, having caught on to the fact that he had no idea what the price should be, and he can't help the pride that spreads its wings in his heart. (though he probably shouldn't be, considering why you smiled, he was glad that he was the cause of it.) 
the rest of the shopping goes in a similar manner. you tell him things. he nods, he observes another one of your features, then notes down whatever you tell him mentally. 
by the time you reach check out, both of your trolleys are filled with the exact same items in the exact same quantities. except for two items in his cart that he reached for out of instinct when he saw them on the shelf: a chocolate his brother liked, and a snack his father used to eat often. 
he contemplates leaving them behind, but decides against it at the last minute just before the cashier scans them.
he sees you reach into your pockets for a wallet, and sees an opportunity to repay you for your help. 
he's quick to pull out his own and hands his card to the cashier before you can say a word.
“i insist,” he says, when you protest. “it is only fair i do this in return for you helping me,”
you sigh, giving him another one of the smiles he had started to adore. “alright, thank you.”
the two of you walk outside the store together. cool wind ruffles both of your hair. “well, i guess this is where we part ways,” you say with a laugh and a wave. he manages a soft smile in return. 
“farewell, then.” he watches you walk away, still standing at the entrance, shopping bags in hand. "dammit." he curses under his breath.
he'd forgotten to ask for your name.
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ravencincaide · 5 months
Text
This little thing
Summary: Not every woman wants their boyfriend to buy them everything they lay their eyes on. It was  just excessive. Unfortunately for you, that’s something that Chuuya still struggles with. Or the time Chuuya got you one meaningful gift instead of 50 just-because ones. 
Pairing: Reader x Chuuya Nakahara
Inspired by Sweetober prompt 11: Shopping
Hope you enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________
“ Chuu, are you really getting all those felted bunnies for yourself?” 
You did little to hide your teasing smile as you stared at your boyfriend's confused expression, his arms filled to the brim with at least fifty handmade animals in all shapes, colours and sizes. All of them were soft; either knitted, crochet or felted and all with exquisite details. Hearing your comment he looked down at his arms, seeming to just realize he may have overdone it slightly. Turning his head left and then right, he quickly came to the realization that there was little place in the small shed for him to place them down. It wasn’t long until the 50 or so animals were levitating in the air between you. 
“ So pass on the bunnies” Chuuya agreed, flickering his eyes towards the shelf furthest away where he took them from. All twenty of them returned to the shelf in neat little lines. You watched with an amazed expression on your face, always fascinated by his ability whenever he used it. Which was rare around you. “ Sweetheart?” 
You closed your mouth and turned away from the bunnies and back to your boyfriend and the remaining thirty animals levitating around him. Not a single duplicate, each one slightly different than the next, in one way or another one. “ Why so many Chuu?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side. 
Chuuya watched your expression carefully before raising his hand and rested it on your cheek. The leather of his glove felt cool on your skin, the touch loving. Even if you’d wish he took those damned things off when around you. “ Because you like this sort of thing” 
You blinked in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out where he got that idea from, before it finally clicked. “ Do you mean the felted fox I have in my bookshelf? The one my mum made for me before I moved out?” 
“ It looked like it could use a few friends” was all he said, his eyes looking at you with such adoration you could have sworn you hung the moon. Or something. But you could see past that loving expression and down to the emotion which triggered this behavior of excessively buying you anything you could remotely like, let alone want or need. Each date would end with your hands full of different gift bags and presents as if you had just gone Christmas shopping for your entire family instead of spending a few hours together. So now when you were actually out to look around the autumn market with intentions to buy some random cute or practical autumn items you were terrified of how many more things your sweet yet excessive boyfriend would bestow upon you. 
“ Love” you called and pressed a hand against his cheek feeling him instantly lean into the touch“ You don’t need to buy me anything, you don’t need to bribe me with gifts and trinkets to keep me. I’m gonna remain your girlfriend even if you get me nothing. So please- no excessive shopping.” You plead hoping you could get through to him. Reluctantly three more animals returned to their shelves. 
Only 27 more to go. 
“ It shouldn’t be a problem for me to buy things for my girlfriend.” He pressed a quick peck to your lips, clearly deciding that this would be the end of this conversation. You, however, were not planning to give up until all the animals returned to their rightful place. 
“ Chuu we talked about this” you mumbled, letting your hand drop away from his cheek and pressing your fingers against your forehead, above the bridge of your nose. You were fighting off the oncoming headache “ You know that when you just pile on things on me like this it makes me feel inherently guilty and indebted to you. I know it’s not what you’re after- I honestly do- but it also makes it harder for me to say no to you when I really should.” 
“ You never need to feel that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “ You know I’d never ask for anything that you don’t want or aren’t ready for.” 
You looked up at him as he moved your fingers away from your forehead and clasped them tightly in his hand. His lips were quick to replace them, the gentle touch beginning to ease the frown.  “ Chuu please” you begged “ We can compromise on something somewhere else okay? I really don’t want anything from here and if you keep buying me things I show a slight interest in I’ll not have enough space for the truly precious gifts you get me.”  
You watched him hesitating, the gears in his head turning as he fought back the argument that ‘you could just move in with him’ or he could ‘buy you a bigger place or storage space’. Thankfully even Chuuya realized that your relationship was not at that point, yet. “ Fine” he muttered, pulling back and pushing his hat over his eyes as the remaining animals returned to their shelf.  
“ Thank you Chuu” You gave him a peck on the lips, trying to ignore how pouty he looked. Like the thought of not gifting you the entire store physically hurt him “ Now that we’ve checked this place out, wanna head towards the fall market stalls? I heard the farmers outdid themselves this year with fall-themed treats and pastries!” 
Before Chuuya replied, you grabbed his hand and turned around, starting to head for the door. 
Just then something off to the side, hanging on the wall, partially obscured by numerous knitted hats and gloves, caught your eye. It was a hanger full of white hand-knitted floor-length scarf that resembled more a small blanket than something practical. It was full of intricate designs in various shades of white. From this distance you couldn’t fully tell what the designs were, but you were certain they were just as detailed as the rest of the items in the shop- if not more. You were captivated by the way it shimmered from a distance; the shift of silver, icy and blue colours depending on how the light hit it. But most importantly, it looked soft and warm, like a hug that would protect its wearer against even the coldest and most bone chilling Japanese winter days. It was clearly a handmade thing- a unique one of kind that you had never before seen. And you were certain you’d never see a second of its kind again. God you wanted to look at it closer, run your fingers over the material to see if it was as soft as it looked. 
You bit your lip in thought. 
Then deciding that it would make you too much of a hypocrite if you were to go and buy the first thing your eyes lingered on after you just scolded Chuuya for doing just that. So you turned your back on it and headed outside the small store pulling your boyfriend behind you. 
You regretted your choice almost the second you step outside; the autumn sun was quick to set while you were browsing inside the warm stall, letting the chilly autumn night air set in. The wet coldness seemed to crawl past your clothes and chill you to your core despite the five layers you were wearing. A scarf would have been nice, you mused to yourself bitterly.
Still proud and stubborn however, you refused to turn around and get it. Instead you took a look around the sea of people before picking a direction at random. It wasn’t long until you and Chuuya were walking side by side, admiring the handiwork:, from hand carved wooden toys and games to weaved socks and sweaters. It didn’t take long until you arrived at the part of the market which sold food; jams, cheeses and meats, fall vegetables and even pumpkins together with a pumpkin carving contest. 
“ Sweetheart shall we get some hot chocolate?” You turned to look at your boyfriend who nodded in the direction of a semi-long line. All it took was another blow of the chilly wind for you to agree. Indeed you nodded, hot chocolate sounded like a splendid idea to warm up. Almost too eager you went to the queue wondering what sorts of flavors they had to offer.  You stood ahead of Chuuya in line, with your boyfriend hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, eyes closed. Gently you moved from one foot to another, a soft rocking motion that kept you warmer and seemed to make your boyfriend sleepier. 
You hated to admit it but if it got any colder you’d probably have to call it a day early, independently of how much more of this market you got to see. The thought made a wave of disappointment wash over you, this was one of the few together-activities that you were really looking forward to and wouldn't get to re-experience until next year!
“ Sweetheart, can you get me the dark one with marshmallows?” Chuuya asked after five minutes of waiting, breaking your trail of thought. 
You tilted your head to the side in confusion “ Sure, you going somewhere?” 
“ Just give me a moment” Chuuya pressed a kiss to your neck, his cold nose making you shiver, before he disappeared into the masses, somehow perfectly blending in despite how lightly dressed he was, on top of wearing his hat and black coat which swayed behind him with each step. Although his clothes were stunning on him, they did make him stand out among the masses of warm coats and gloves. You looked after him before shaking your head and turning back to count the number of heads that were left before it was your turn. Concluding it was ‘many’ you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself missing Chuuya’s embrace more than ever. 
It took you another ten minutes until you got hot chocolate for you both. Once you got the two large cups overflowing with goonesses you began facing the dilemma of where you’d find Chuuya. Looking left, then right you made your way towards a small empty table to the side of the stall and set your mugs down  there. Before you could reach for your phone, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, pressing you closely to his chest. “ Hmm smells good. Wait long sweetheart?” 
“ Not at all” You smiled as he nuzzled into you before moving back from you. The action confused you: you turned your body to face him, your back leaned against the table momentarily forgetting about the chocolate and the coldness.
“ Here Y/N” Chuuya stated as he held up the paperbag towards you, looking to the side. His face looked flushed, something between embarrassed and guilty, with a redness that not even the chilly autumn wind could achieve. 
You looked skeptic for a moment before carefully taking the bag from him. You watched his hand drop to his side and he still wasn’t looking at you, perhaps because he was expecting that you’d scold him for it. In fact you could see him sigh heavily, clenching and unclenching his fist in nervousness. 
You turned your attention away from Chuuya and towards the white wrapping tissue which kept the gift inside obscured. With careful fingers you moved the paper aside before you gasped. Inside was the fluffy white scarf, looking even more stunning than it did on the hanger. 
“ Ohh Chuuya-baby you shouldn’t have” you mumbled in shock trailing your fingers carefully over the hand embroidered design of a shimmering- glittering snowflake. The material was much softer than you could have imagined. “ It must have been so expensive.” 
“ Do you like it?” he asked carefully, still cautious in case he had somehow offended you. 
“ I love it” you looked up at him with a huge smile on your face. “ This is the best and most thoughtful gift you’ve ever given me, thank you so so soooo much Chuu!” 
He chuckled at your excitement before reaching for the bag, intending to help you wrap yourself up in it. As he draped the warm material over your shoulders you grabbed the front of his jacket and crashed your lips together in a long, grateful kiss. It took him less than a second to reciprocate, his lips moving against yours. The kiss was deep yet sweet and gentle, neither rushed nor sexy-passionate. Still it was a kiss you’d remember for a long time. 
After all, there was just something magical about kissing Chuuya in the middle of the autumn market, surrounded by people, lights and under the warmths of the most thoughtful and caring gift your boyfriend had ever gifted you. Even if with each kiss the hot chocolate behind you grew colder and colder.. 
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whatthefishh · 1 year
Text
Oxford Comma
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Rydal Keener x f!Reader
Summary: You got into Harvard, based on your own merit. Rydal was a legacy kid and pissed you off every chance he could get. AKA the 90s University AU I spent two full days working on.
Words: 7k+
Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v, cream pie, Rydal is a cunt lmfao, a lot of run on sentences and overly describing situations because you just had to be there
Series Masterlist
———-
It all starts during homecoming. 
Well, sort of. 
That’s when you met him.
\\\
“I didn’t even want to go to school here, you know. Fucking bullshit,” you heard someone say. 
You bristled at the thought that someone would want to turn down the posh ivy university that you somehow managed to get a scholarship to. You had busted your ass for your grades and extracurriculars, balancing being on the school paper and being top of your class just for the chance to apply to Harvard. And here this prep kid was, complaining that this wasn’t his top choice. The privilege was pouring out of him like a faucet.
“Didn’t your dad bribe you though? He bought you a new car. Like, the exact car you’ve been whining about,” the taller boy said.
“It wasn’t a bribe–”
“And! Didn’t you get a custom licence plate? Something that had to do with Greek mythology or some shit–”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” the snooty boy sniffed. “He chose the plate. Wanted everyone to know who it actually belonged to.”
“Well– yeah. Still, we’re legacies. May as well use it to our advantage.”
You were listening so closely that when someone behind you in the crowd of students bumped you too hard, your drink spilled on the taller boy’s shoes. Not a lot, but enough to embarrass you in front of the clearly well-off duo. They both turned around to look at you at the same time, the shared weight of their accusatory gaze shrinking you even further, if that was even possible.
Chester, the taller boy whose name you had come to learn after hearing the snooty boy refer to him as such, threw a fit about the now dried cranberry stain on his crisp white Sperry’s, which he had apparently just purchased. 
The other boy, the one who didn’t want to go to school here, was watching you amusedly the whole time, his lids low as he slowly took in your appearance while you were stuttering out an apology to Chester. You didn’t notice how he was watching you until he interrupted you and said that it was fine. That he’d buy his friend another pair, to which you did a double take, catching his winning smile. That ten kilowatt smile probably got him out of a lot of situations, and he was aiming it at you now. For what, you didn’t know. He was genuinely very handsome. In a classic, old money kind of way. Sweaters around his shoulders, Ray-Ban wearing, summer in the Hampton's kind of way. To be honest, it just made you dislike him more. The uncomfortable feeling spreading over your body in goosebumps under his stare, most likely manifesting into a cringe-worthy blush across your cheeks. 
You needed to get away. Hopefully, this was a one-off and you’d never have to see or speak to them ever again. After an uncomfortable ten or so seconds of silence, you turned on your heel and walked into the crowd, not bothering to catch the other boy’s name.
///
The distinct smell of his expensive cologne hit your nose before you saw him again. 
Looking up from the list detailing the books you needed for your semester, you stopped short as someone cut in front of you in the aisle of the campus bookstore. The back of his head rang familiar but you couldn’t place him, until he grabbed something off the shelf – the last copy of The Communist Manifesto in his hands – and turned to give you a smug smirk when your eyes connected. You couldn’t help but flick your eyes back and forth between his eyes and the title in his hand, the same book you needed for your Perspectives of Politics course. And he’d just taken the last copy available.
“I…I was going to buy that,” your voice came out weaker than intended.
“Were you?” he was still smiling at you, infuriatingly. 
“Yeah, right before you jumped in front of me. It’s the last one in stock.”
“Hmm. Didn’t see you reaching for it. Guess you’ll just have to order it online then.”
You grit your teeth together, trying to go for polite but by the way his eyes lit up at your jaw clicking, you were having a hard time keeping it together.
“Come on, they’re like double the price online, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt daddy’s wallet. Let me have this one!”
You grimaced as soon as the words left your mouth. They were ugly and not the way you wanted to carry yourself at a prestigious school such as Harvard, especially not to someone whose parent was a faculty member. 
He arches a brow and takes a deep breath in before tilting his head back and staring down his nose at you. He wasn’t much taller than you, not really, but he held himself with such distinction that you couldn’t help but feel three feet shorter. 
“Listen, I don’t know what backwater town you came from, but we don’t use those words around here unless you’re moaning about it.”
God, you hated him. You wanted the floor to swallow you up so you could disappear from this awkward fucking moment. 
Narrowing your eyes at him, your tongue once again got you in trouble, “Motherfucker,” you whispered incredulously. 
“No, my name is Rydal. But you were close.” 
He shook his head, the smug look back on his face as he walked away from you, leaving you to gape at the empty aisle trying to rewind time. 
\\\
You only realize he’s in your class when midterms come around, seeing him show up to write an exam for a course he’s never attended in person.
You avoid him, casting your eyes downward until you pass by him, too ashamed of your last conversation all those weeks ago to even look him in the eye. 
He finishes the exam quicker than someone should be able to for someone who hasn’t attended a single lecture. It’s almost questionable. Until you see several other students get up around the same time as him, leaving a good two thirds of the lecture hall still full. You’re still around the halfway point of the exam, and trying your best to remember what it was you read about capitalism and Marx, and but the moment from the bookstore comes to mind, your thoughts unintentionally drifting to Rydal again. His deep set eyes watching you from atop his aristocratic nose, lips parting curiously, temptingly–
You’re writing an exam, for fuck’s sake. Shaking your head and blinking rapidly to get rid of the thoughts (read: thots) you were having, you shifted your attention back to the papers in front of you. 
You double checked everything before handing it in, well before the last third of students finished. A small part of you bitterly wondered how he had managed to finish so quickly, but you again didn’t let yourself brood for too long.
///
You didn’t see him but you saw Chester in the library once, kicking the printer in an attempt to make it work after jamming for the umpteenth time. 
You made eye contact after he had just done so, your body freezing at the exact moment your eyes met inadvertently and making your library trip last half as long as you initially intended. If you were being honest with yourself, which honestly you were, way too often and mostly to your detriment, you high-tailed it out of there out of fear of running into Rydal. If Chester was around, you could safely bet that he was probably nearby, the two frenemies often spending their free time together. 
Planning on finishing your paper in your dorm, you made your way back, secretly hoping your roommate wasn’t there. You had no problems with her, she was actually really nice to you and often wordlessly gave you snacks if she saw you skipping meals. The thing was…
Your roommate started smoking weed and thought she was being slick about it. She wasn’t.
The smell of it followed her in the dorm, leaving its teeth marks in the sweaters she left around, in the bathroom where she would spend an hour in the shower washing it out of her hair, and in her bed sheets when she’d come back from god knows where smoking up. 
There was one night when she came back with some gummies for you to share, since she noticed you being on edge and wanted to help, bless her. You kindly refused, since you were in the middle of crying about your grades, but appreciated the thought nonetheless. 
Your midterm came back with a lower grade than you expected. Your project partner didn’t finish their part of the assignment, forcing you to do most of it yourself. You were going to get a lower grade than you wanted, than you needed to keep your scholarship. You had to get at least a 90% on the final to keep your average where it needed to be. How the fuck were you supposed to accomplish that? What with the stress of managing your finances and trying to blend in to this stupid crowd, most of the kids around you not having to even think about any of the shit that was on your mind. 
You couldn’t fail, you weren’t allowed the same slip ups half of the students around you were allowed. Not only could you barely afford your meals on campus, but you were skipping dinner some days, desperate to make it to the end. It’s not like you could ask anyone at home for help, that was a write-off. You were here off your own merit and volition. You and you alone. You thought about all your peers who had help getting here, jealousy rising like bile in your throat. You needed this more than them. And yet you felt hopeless when you thought back to the pre-requisite course you were failing.
Okay, fine. Not failing, just falling below the mark you needed.
Which you tried explaining to your roommate. Her casual suggestion made you stop crying immediately, turning to her in confusion.
“Why don’t you just buy an answer key?”
What. The. Fuck.
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, like the answer key to the final. I’m sure someone has it.”
“Like… you mean like someone’s selling the answers to the exams we’ve been writing? Like… a student? Isn’t that against school rules?”
She laughed and looked at you like you’d grown two heads.
“Of course it’s against school rules, that’s why you have to be careful who you ask. Honestly, how have you been getting by this whole time? Don’t tell me you’ve actually been doing every single reading?” she asked you as if the mere thought of it was ridiculous.
You just stared at her in stunned silence, a little bashfully when you had no reason to be. 
“Oh honey, go ask Rydal, I’m sure he has it.”
Now you were going to scream.
“W-what?” you were struggling to wrap your head around it. The same Rydal whose father was a professor at the school, the same Rydal who left the exam early for a class he never fucking showed up for – that scumbag was cheating and still had the audacity to steal the last copy of the book you needed right out of your stingy hands. 
The sound of your roommate talking faded into noise as you were thinking about all the times you felt less than, and all the times you stayed up late in the library studying, trying to prove yourself to your professors and peers when all this time half the student body was probably buying their way through school and doing the bare minimum.
You realize she’s been droning on about how cute he was today, and how kindly he offered to roll her weed for her when she bought the dime off him and it occurred to you that she was still talking about Rydal. Her weed dealer, Rydal. 
A thought occurred to you. 
“Where’s his dorm?” you adopted a fake tone of cheerful curiosity. 
She adapted to your change in diction better than you could’ve hoped for really, giving you the information you were looking for and feeling altruistic about herself in the process.
He opened his door with an air of boredom, masking his surprise at finding you there – your eyes probably red from crying, hands wringing in front of you – and leaning against it with his arms crossed, looking you up and down before asking, “can I help you?” with a twist of his lips.
Taking a deep breath and trying not to literally twiddle your thumbs, you start explaining how you need at least a 90 on the exam to keep your GPA, trying to skirt around the topic of maintaining your scholarship. For whatever reason, you felt the need to hide your financial status in front of him, and you were already here groveling for his help. You didn’t need to hand over your dignity on a silver platter for him. 
Halfway through your monologue, he opens the door more fully for you, signaling for you to enter with a slight tilt of his head. Looking around his dorm, you take in the frames and posters lining his walls; the stack of books next to his extremely comfortable looking bed; his mostly cleared desk; an acoustic guitar half hidden behind it; and a hefty looking filing cabinet with a lock. It was much loftier than yours looked, even with the lived in state. His worn but expensive denim jacket hung off the chair at his desk, and you briefly wondered what the hell his deal was. Why was this rich kid with daddy issues acting out in a clear violation of several campus rules and regulations, pulling out a spliff from behind his ear to rest between his lips and light it up lazily in front of you? 
“D’you wanna hit?” he asks, blowing the smoke out as he watches you gingerly look around for somewhere to sit. You shake your head ‘no’, tugging at the hem of your Harvard t-shirt. 
“Take a seat, I have to find the copy,” he says gesturing to his unmade bed. 
So you do, you sit in the same place his body had been prior to you knocking on his door and you can tell by the traces of cologne you pick up as soon as you sit down.
You try not to stare as he’s bent over the heavy duty cabinet, rifling through the folders - criminally organised, this one – until he finds the one he’s looking for and turns around to catch you staring at his bum, your eyes widening as they meet his a second too late. 
"Y'know, you look good like that,” he says, leaning his hip against the cabinet and looking at you down his nose again, his lids laying low over his brown eyes. 
"Like what?" you ask, despite you already having a feeling where he was going with this. 
Rydal smiles, like you played into his hand exactly like he wanted you to.
"Sitting on my bed."
"Just give me the photocopies, Rydal."
"Alright, alright,” you stood up to grab them from his outstretched hand, more than ready to leave his cave of horrors. 
Except he doesn't let go when you grab them. 
"How much?"
He still hasn’t let go; you’re at an impasse with how to proceed. Looking up at him with a slight panicked look, he concedes, finally releasing the paper from his grip.
"For you? Nothing, for now.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“Means you owe me one,” he said with an unethical twist of his pink lips. 
"I don't know how I feel about that."
"I have a feeling you'll like the way it feels,” he was ushering you out now, his hand on the small of your back raising goosebumps in its wake. Once in the hallway again, you turned around poised to dish it back but he didn’t give you the chance. Rydal winked at you before swinging his door shut in your face, leaving you half confused and half flustered at his blatant flirting and somewhat generosity. 
///
The next time you see Rydal is at a frat party that your roommate somehow convinced you to go to. She had insisted you needed a night out, a normal university experience she had called it, ever since she found out about your long study hours. Apparently, she had thought you were seeing someone and that’s why you were out late, not because you’d been holed up in the library this whole time. So she took it upon herself to throw some of her clothes at you, more expensive than anything you owned, albeit shorter and tighter. 
“This isn’t my size,” you tried to tell her from inside the bathroom you shared. 
“Yes, it is, stop being dumb and let me see,” she was being nice, you reminded yourself.
Groaning, you opened the door to reveal the kitschy micro pleated skirt she had lent you with the thigh high socks, to go with it. You felt ridiculous, but by the way her eyes lit up at the sight of you, you were made to believe that it was a good look, despite the irony of the academia look gone wrong, all things considered. 
Before she could drag you out any further, you managed to swipe your oversized denim jacket to throw on top for the chill November air, letting her drone on about how she wants to find you a guy tonight. 
The party was being held in a dated building on campus, hosting one of the many fraternities that Harvard has to offer, and of course, one of the many yearly gatherings where students come together to make terrible, horrible decisions together. The structure itself is historically beautiful from the outside, if one were to ignore the trashed students huddled together in swaying groups as the speakers from within the house blared out Hypnotize. There were shouts coming from inside the house, a constant stream of students going to and fro, and someone was most definitely throwing up in the hedge. 
Linking her arm through yours so she wouldn’t lose you to the throngs of people, your roommate pulled you through, ending up at the drinks table.
“Pick your poison,” she urged you, before turning and saying hello to a bunch of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone for a minute before he descended upon you.
“Step on me, would ya?” his soft voice was closer to your ear than you expected anyone to be. 
Your head whipped around and even his eyes widened at seeing your face, not having known it was you from behind. 
“Are you lost or something?” you scoffed at him. 
“Oh my god, Rydal! So good to see you,” your roommate swooped in at just the right time, stepping between you two to hug him, a hug that he returned though he kept his eyes on you the whole time. “You two know each other, right?”
He cleared his throat before smiling and nodding at her, answering all her socialite questions before seeing someone he knew across the room and taking his leave. You knew this outfit was a bad idea. 
“Babe, I’m gonna go dance with Sebastian over there, is that okay? He keeps smiling at me and– don’t look at me like that, I’ll be back soon, I promise, okay?” 
You felt bad, not wanting to keep her from having fun so you assured her you’d be fine, busying yourself with your drink and finding something to snack on. Which led you to search for the food table, it was bound to be here somewhere. Near the drinks is where they usually set it up, right? It should be here – 
He was already staring when your gaze landed on him, looking at you through his lashes from across the room, his index finger resting on his tongue as he licked off whatever food was leftover on it. You felt your cheeks heat as he didn’t look away, the pink of his mouth wrapping around his finger now and making a show out of cleaning it while he looked you up and down. 
Oh, fuck him, you needed some space. The back door was nowhere to be seen so you pivoted and took the stairs two steps at a time in your rush to find the bathroom. After brushing past some older, more inebriated students draped over each other in the hallway, you found an unoccupied bedroom, rather nondescript and clean to belong to this house, at least. Stripping yourself of your jean jacket, you tossed it somewhere near the door. Taking a few breaths to steady your racing heart, you tried to shake the tantalizing image of him and his perfect mouth out of your head, the way his lips wrapped around his finger and leaving behind a trail of spit–
The door swung open and you were about to apologize, presumably to the resident of whoever’s room you were occupying but the words died on your lips when you noticed it was him, closing the door behind him. 
You don’t have the energy to deal with whatever brand of crazy has him acting up tonight, his eyes drinking you in now that he has you cornered like a predator. Taking the moment to study the boy before you, to really study him, you notice he’s not really that tall and not really that imposing. The watch on his wrist looks old and worn, not like his flashy counterparts you thought he was similar to. His polo shirt, though obviously expensive judging by the material and the way it draped over his shoulders, was minimalistic in design. No logo, if any, was immediately visible, and you realized you wouldn’t have known about his ridiculous opinion of the institution if you weren’t eavesdropping that first day, and honestly? He’s probably someone you could have befriended upon first glance (or fallen for, but that’s neither here nor there).
You’re eyeing him with blatant distrust. He’s an asshole at times but his lips part as if he were about to speak and then thought better of it, cocking his head while searching for the right words and you’re waiting with baited breath, crossing your arms across your abdomen and inadvertently pushing your breasts up just enough, because why the fuck did he follow you up here?
He has the audacity to look a bit ashamed actually before deciding to press his fingers to his lips and not speak.
“You’re not going to say anything?” you manage.
He shakes his head and you can see the smile he's trying to hide behind his hand, “well I was going to, but I didn’t want to come off like a dick.” 
You narrow your eyes and sigh, “what? Just say it.”
“I wanted to cash in that favour, what with you looking like… well, like that.” His hand finally leaves his mouth to vaguely wave in the directions of your legs. 
///
So, you meant to put up more of a fight. 
Really.
You didn’t mean to give in to his stupid advances so easily, so wantonly, and you don’t even remember who moved first but you remember it being a damn good kiss. Rydal basically devoured your mouth, tongues fighting for dominance soon after your lips met with one hand cupping the back of your neck and the other pulling your body closer by your hip. You pushed his jacket off him while his hands reached under the hem of your top, fingers pressing into your skin. You finally had the opportunity to rake your fingers through his dark locks, causing him to moan into your mouth and bite your bottom lip in retaliation and you swore you could feel the vibrations in your fucking tonsils, your hips rocking into his and you could feel him–
Time seemed to blur, and suddenly you found yourself on your knees, his hands hurriedly unbuckling his belt while you looked up at him from below, his cheeks dusted pink. Massaging the head of his cock through his stupid corduroy pants, he whined under his breath, pushing your hand away to pull himself out of his briefs.
He’s so fucking thick. After unceremoniously pulling out his cock, he didn’t want to force you to do anything, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides while you just blinked stupidly at it, watching the tip as it leaked out a drop of precum.
Rydal was watching you watch his cock, before you finally gripped the base and leaned forward to kitten lick the tip, and his hesitation flew out the window. His hand buried itself in your hair, not pushing but holding so gently, it was almost tender and it occurred to you that you wanted to wreck him.
Opening your mouth to let more of him in, you breathe in deeply through your nose until you feel him graze the back of your throat, hearing him stutter a breath when you do. Moving your mouth over him until the hilt, you repeated your movement, fingers tightly gripping his base and ignoring the way his thumb rubbed your cheek on every pass. You chanced a look up at him and saw his wild eyes watching you, groaning when your eyes met. His hips unintentionally thrust forward, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to swallow around the tip, both of you moaning at the same time. 
An ache is building in your jaw but you were determined to make him lose his shit, he drove you crazy and despite you being on your knees for him, you felt in control of the moment, taking pleasure from it. There was a throbbing between your thighs that you tried your hardest to ignore for the time being. 
He was whining now, and you continued to bob your head over his cock, obsessed with driving him further to the edge. Rydal made the prettiest noises, even his exhales were music to your ears and you were glad that you were completely sober enough to remember this, to remember how his head dropped back when you swirled your tongue around his fat tip, the sensitive spot underneath the head and you think he might come. You can't help but wonder if he'll taste any different having fed from a silver spoon all his life
Hes whining a lot now, please– so good j-just like that, God yes – you’re sure hes about to blow his load and you’re preparing yourself to take it as he starts bucking into your mouth but before he can the door swings open and none other than fucking Chester walks in and the moment’s diffused, dissolved, deflated, you’re on your feet faster than you realize and you grab your jacket from the floor as Chester guffaws at the scene. Your feet take you down the stairs and out of the house in a daze, you don’t hear Rydal calling your name behind you in your haste to leave and you see your roommate still with Sebastian, leaving her in his good hands as you make your way back to your dorm. 
Halfway through the Quadrangle you realize you weren’t wearing your own jacket, Rydal’s cologne wafting from it in the humid pre-rain atmosphere. Great, now you had a corporeal reminder of what just transpired. Out of everybody at that party to walk in on the two of you, it had to be his best friend, the one who he was probably going to dish all the dirty details to anyway. 
“Ughhhh!” you groaned once you reached your empty dorm room. 
The entire walk back was filled with images of Rydal, the way his hair felt between your hands, the way his thumb was softly caressing your cheek, the way he felt heavy in your mouth, the way his eyes looked at you like he couldn’t believe his reality. What a waste of your time, you thought bitterly. Neither of you even got the chance to finish what you started. 
Neatly folding the borrowed clothes on your roommates bed, you forced yourself to sleep, only able to nod off after several failed attempts to relieve the buildup between your thighs. 
///
The next two weeks went by uneventfully. Never mind you leaving your dorm for literally anything other than necessities. Classes ended a week before exams, the library was full at all hours, so you resigned yourself to studying in your bed and at your desk. Your roommate spent half her time at her desk and the other half at her new boyfriend’s dorm, Sebastian. That fateful night turned out in her favour, ironically.
She had actually asked you what happened and if you were okay, not having found you after your pathetic runaway stunt. 
“Uhh, I had a really bad acid trip. Ended up here, no memory of how.” 
She nodded at you solemnly, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder comfortingly as if you’d just told her someone in your family had died. 
Rydal’s jacket rests on the back of your chair, the smell of it lingering, both comforting and disconcerting at the same time. You’re bad at lying to yourself so you’ve come to terms with the fact that you enjoyed what happened between you two at the party and felt real regret that you couldn’t finish what you started, going home empty handed. Like a kid at the carnival with no prize, it was stolen from you at the last second and you had to leave before letting them see how badly you wanted it. 
And you did, you wanted him so badly. You almost hate yourself for acknowledging it but when you closed your eyes he was all you could see, his face moments before coming down your throat. Studying in a perpetual state of horniness wasn’t doing you any favours either. You had taken to going for early morning runs to get rid of the itch under your skin, having given up on trying to relieve it yourself. 
The answer key worked, flawlessly of course. You still studied, you weren’t completely undignified in your cheating. It’s not like you were behind in the course, so you did your due diligence and it turned out in your favour. You hung around after finishing, double checking your work and then handing it in with the first half of the class and leaving the examination room with a pep in your step. Once again your thoughts strayed to Rydal, and how you should thank him for his help but then memories of your thanks came to mind and you decided he already got his dues.
Still, you had his jacket. You should probably take it back, all things considered. You turned in your seat to check the tag, curious as to how much it cost him. No doubt that it cost more than half your closet – Balmain. 
Okay, upon first glance it was just a basic denim jacket, but now that you knew it was designer, you noticed the detailing, the strong hardware and clean top stitching that held it together. A quick google search told you it cost him nearly $3,000 and you’re rendered speechless that he hasn’t come knocking down your door and calling you a thief. 
Your leg starts bouncing under your desk, his cologne somehow more fragrant while the words on your laptop screen stop making sense, jumbling together as your mind screams at you to return the jacket at once.
///
Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on his door.
You speed walked here, his jacket in hand. Yes, it was cold outside, but you braved the wind and refused to put the denim on, based entirely on principle and fear that you’d be billed in case anything happened to it while you wore it. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you tried to listen to the shuffling behind his door. What if he wasn’t home? What if he was and didn’t want to see you? What if Chester was here? What if he had a girl over?!
Before you could drop his jacket and leave, the door opened to a shirtless Rydal, sweatpants hung low on his hips and he held a towel to his hair, drying it while looking at you with a clear question in his eyes. 
“Um, hi. I just came here to return this, since, well since I mistook it for mine. They basically look the same except yours cost you like, a lot more than mine did so it's okay if you don’t have it, I kind of ran away. Anyway, I’m gonna go–”
“You still owe me a favour, y’know.”
You pause in your turn, looking at him exasperatedly. He doesn’t even have the shame this time, there’s no pause in his words, no hand to cover his smirk, no, his mouth is twisted up crookedly and making his dimple jut out at you infuriatingly. Insultingly. You’re not staring at the water droplet making its way down his chest but you’re also not not staring. He’s gorgeous. 
“That’s not true, I think I remember–”
“Doesn’t count. I didn’t finish.”
Your eyes flash at his brazen response. Rydal licks his lips in response, staring openly at your mouth now. 
“If you wring my jacket any further, you’ll owe me two times–”
He didn’t get to finish his stupid threat with your mouth covering his, your body colliding with his almost violently and pushing him into his room in the process. He was quick to push you against the door once he had half the mind to close it, his body smothering yours and his hands ripping the jacket from your grip to toss it haphazardly behind him. It was somehow better this time, maybe due to him already being half undressed but you were enjoying the way his tongue was lapping at your bottom lip while your hands roamed his torso, running down his shoulders and lightly scratching him at the same time. His body shuddered and slumped against you as his forehead came to rest against yours, lips parting for air and sharing the same breath pointlessly. 
“This doesn’t mean anything,” you pant, his hands pushing your shirt up inch by inch as he explores your skin. 
“And what exactly is this, baby? Because it feels like more than a favour right now,” he said the last part while grinding his hips into yours causing you both to groan at the well-needed friction.
You glare at him, despite his face being mere centimetres away from yours and an irritating grin playing with his mouth, “You’re ridiculous.”
Flattening your palms against his bare chest, you push him back until the back of his knees hit and buckle against his bed, falling on it before your legs come up on each side of his hips, straddling him as your hands tangle in his hair again.
He’s volatile and sharp and unpredictable in ways that make you nervous and excited and you want to keep him you realize. Rydal’s hands rest on your hips, massaging the skin he can reach without pushing you for more but the desire is clear on his face, looking up at you with no mask. He presses your lower back so your hot core rubs his hardening cock through his sweats and you gasp and arch your back and press in a little closer, and his eyes are tracing your facial expressions. His hand comes up to cup your cheek again and you’re reminded of the last time he held your face like that, his thumb rubbing the same way as before and angling your face better for him to kiss you, stopping just before your lips connect.
You feel a little vulnerable until he says, “Yeah, I know.”
And then he’s kissing you and he’s not stopping and you’re grinding your hips down again, addicted to coaxing small groans and whines from him.
He takes a frightening amount of pleasure from seeing you come around his fingers, his lips wrapped around your clit and leaving behind a trail of wetness, just like you imagined all those days ago. His three digits curled and pressed on your sweet spot, your fingers tightening in his hair as he hummed into your mound, not letting up. 
When he rests the fat tip of his cock against your entrance, looking at you one final time before pushing in, you can’t bring yourself to plead with him so you kiss him instead, hoping your lips conveyed what you didn’t want to voice. He gets it, and enters you in one rushed thrust. Your nails dig into his meaty shoulders, eyes closing against the intrusion. 
You thought sex with Rydal would be competitive, as every exchange between the two of you usually is. You wanted to turn him inside out and devour the crumbs. It should’ve been aggressive, he should’ve fueled your violent tendencies, it should’ve been all bite and not soft brushes of his hand against your face, not him kissing your face as you gasp around a particularly deep thrust, not him religiously watching your mouth as you whimper and your cunt fluttering around his cock. 
He wouldn’t speed up. You already came twice, once on his fingers and once on his thick length as he stayed still inside you, holding off his own release until he reached some-inflicted goal to make you go cross eyed and cockdumb for him. He didn’t let you put your mouth on him before, claiming that you could ‘repay him for last time’ at another date, cheekily insinuating there would be a next time, without a doubt. 
You bite your lip to hold back from begging him to fuck you faster, harder, anything but this slow torture he was inflicting on your slick folds. There was no catch, he was gliding through you easily and he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how wet you were. Pulling your lip free from your teeth, his thumb dipped into your mouth and caught your spit on it only to drag it across your cheek messily. You let out a high pitch whine at that, his cock hitting you deeply.
You turn your face to the side, scrunching your eyes closed as you feel your core building up again despite his agonizing pace. Rydal grabs your chin and turns you to face him again, holding your jaw in place.
“No, you look at me, wanna watch you come again,” he huffs into your face, lifting your leg to fold you in half. 
“I–” you start to choke, needing him to understand.
“What, baby? You owe me, remember?” he thrusts a bit harder at that, hard enough to make you snap and pull a guttural moan from you.
It happens before you’re ready; your spine feels exposed as your back arches into him, eyes unfocused and brain short-circuiting, and you gush around him. He’s still thrusting, albeit sloppy and irregular now, but he’s also talking a lot and you can’t focus on his words because your ears are ringing from how hard you just came.
“...fuck, baby, so pretty, love watching you come, fuckkkk, I’m gonna– ahhhh!” his hips buck wildly until you feel hot spurts of his come inside you and dribble out of your puffy pussy. His whole body flexes over yours as he all but empties his balls and slumps over you, your hands mindlessly running through his hair and petting his sweaty back. He had just showered before you showed up. Oh well.
The urge to keep touching him stays even past the time it takes for you to regain feeling in your legs, and Rydal has been nuzzling your neck for the time being. You don’t know how long you two stay like that, just basking in each other’s calm presence for the first time since knowing him. You feel like all the stress from the whole semester, let alone the past two weeks, had left your body, seeping out of you and into his sheets. 
You feel him smile against your skin and without thinking, you tug his hair to pull his face up to yours, wanting to see it. It’s not his regular smug smirk that he gives you, it's something else entirely. 
This smile is a bit gummy, not as dazzling as the one he turned on you on the first day you met, but sweet and genuine. His nose wrinkled a bit with it and you had to physically refrain yourself from kissing him silly.
Your bodies are sticky and clammy, no space to be found between you two until he pulls out of you, hissing as he does so. Taking a moment to slyly appreciate the mess between your thighs, he swiped a finger through it before you moaned in resistance, swatting his hand away. Rydal sniffed out a laugh, murmuring an apology before getting you something to clean up with. You were worried he’d be cold as soon as it was over, the tenderness he showered you with minutes ago was still present though and he seemed to share the need to keep touching. Useless and unnecessary touches, lingering hands and longing gazes hung around as he gave you something clean to wear, holding you close once you were decent. 
“Um–” you began.
“Can we talk about it tomorrow or something, for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t you be like super zen now?”
You choked.
He was right though, he had made you come, like, really hard. Plus, you did feel more relaxed so you let yourself laugh at his sassy remark, adjusting to his humour now that you saw how soft he really was. You tried to fake glare at him but couldn’t hold it since he was giving you the nose crinkling smile again, your own lips twitching at the whole situation. 
Burrowing yourself further into his chest, you remembered what you originally came here for.
“By the way… Can I keep your jacket since you lost mine?”
He burst out laughing at that. You find yourself loving the sound of it. 
//
tagging people who I think want to read this and if you don't kindly ignore lmao: @melodygatesauthor @360iris @xbellaxcarolinax @annautumnsoul @ninebluehearts @bit-dodgy-innit @moonknightly @luc-k-y @eyelessfaces @kittyofalltrades @romanarose @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @fandxmslxt69 @missdictatorme @loonymagizoologist
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lividstar · 9 days
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愤怒的星星 ★ — COLLISION OF PARALLEL LINES.
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៚ wc: 17.6k
៚ fluff, punk!hongjoong x fem!reader, slowburn, ot8 cameos, college au except idk if i did it right, mutual pining, first few parts are just flashbacks, opposites attract (kinda?) will probably be a 2-part series
៚ The thought of enjoying your Saturday morning however you please may initially seem exciting, but it can become as daunting as weekdays when you end up with tasks even on your supposed days off—which, in your case, is none other than buying a psychological thriller book for your roommate, who claims she needs it in order to share a "common interest" with the nerdy guy from her linguistics class she seems to be obsessed with. You already saw it coming when you opened your phone to find numerous missed calls from her, but what you didn't expect was a coincidental encounter with a guy who seems to have visited the bookstore for the same reason as you. It only took you two more no-longer-so-coincidental encounters for you to realize just how deep you’ve fallen into the bottomless pit.
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You never really tend to realize just how much of an effect a certain person’s presence has on you until you start to crave more of it during the times you fail to feel it around.
The first time you saw him was when you were walking in and out of your local bookstore’s aisles, fingers brushing through the rows of books neatly arranged according to their genres. For how long you’ve been doing the exact same thing, you begin to forget just why and how exactly visiting the place managed to sneak itself in between your routine for the day.
Rewinding the day’s events so far so you could recall what exactly were you doing inside a bookstore standing in front of an aisle solely for the psychological thriller genre, you vividly remember your roommate calling you in the middle of your morning stroll at the park asking if you could stop by a nearby bookstore and buy her a book she apparently needs for “academic purposes.”
You were hesitant at first, thinking she was probably airing out a false reason. With the amount of times you’d come home to the sight of her deeply engrossed in a complex thriller movie, you’d assume she wanted the book solely due to her interests.
You ran your eyes through the columns once more, sighing in relief when you finally found the book your roommate wanted you to buy. You took your phone out to take a picture of it and send it to her for confirmation, but just as you were about to reach for it, another person whose presence you failed to notice until now did so as well, making your hands brush against each other after reaching for the same book stacked in the sixth row of the shelf.
You immediately looked to the side and managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes slightly widening, and so did he with yours. You remember being the first one to snap back to reality, taking a step back to face him while waving your arms off in front of your chest.
“You can take it,” you said, awkwardly chuckling as you gestured for him to take the book instead. You figured you’d just buy a copy of it online, or if you’re going to be free on some days this week, perhaps you’d stop by other bookstores. Your roommate didn’t specify when exactly she needed the book, anyway.
He mirrors your actions instead of reaching for the book, gently pulling down the left cord of his earphones—you thought it was a subtle gesture of bouncing your initiation of small talk back to you, so you let your attention get taken away as your ears perked up to listen to whatever the stranger had to say.
“It’s fine, i’m sure you’ll need that one more than I do,” he said, pointing to the book neither of you were considering taking with a gentle smile. “I’ve actually read it five times already—just thought a sixth reread was necessary earlier in the morning, so here I am now.” He chuckled, and only then did you manage to get a good look at him.
His hair had a striking resemblance to the burgundy patterned carpets of the bookstore, and from the looks of it, you were able to tell from a single glance that it definitely wasn’t the first time he’s ever dyed his hair. Black sunglasses remained sat atop his head, and his ears were decorated in multiple piercings. He wore a layered chain necklace, the silver material of the accessories shining as the lights by the roof reflected on it. A dark red leather jacket was hung lazily over his shoulders, showing the black tank top he wore underneath. He was wearing black, ripped baggy jeans, and it was adorned with chains attached to its waistline. His combat boots were of the same color, and the shoelace of the left foot was undone—you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or if he simply didn’t notice. He wore silver rings on almost each of his fingers, and you were able to see that one of his nails was painted black when he adjusted one of his rings. It almost made you smile, but it wasn’t until he cleared his throat that you realized you’ve been staring at him for about a minute or two.
Your eyes widened in surprise, awkwardly chuckling as you did your best not to give him the wrong impression. “Sorry, I was just...” you trailed off, not knowing what horrible excuse you should use to drag yourself out of a potentially awkward encounter. “...just wondering why you’d want to read the same book six times straight.” Great, you certainly didn’t come off weird, but you definitely sounded rude.
Just as you were about to hurriedly mutter out an apology, the man’s stifled laugh immediately put a halt to your train of thought. “It sounds strange, doesn’t it? My friends have been asking me the same question for a while now, so this isn’t really surprising for me. See, this book has a lot of foreshadowing in it, so I think It’s nice to reread it every once in a while to see the points I’ve missed.” He shrugged his shoulders, making his leather jacket fall off smoothly on one side.
He noticed you struggling with thinking of what to respond, so he took it upon himself and steered the conversation away from himself and towards you. “What about you? what were you going to buy the book for?” he asked, and you were quick to answer—thankful for his initiative.
“Going to the bookstore wasn’t originally part of today’s schedule, but apparently my roommate couldn’t get any more lazier and asked me to stop by to purchase the book for her because she can’t do it herself.”
There was something about the way you expressed your frustration (although jokingly) with a deadpanning look on your face that almost made him want to laugh, and you could tell by the way he was visibly fighting against the corners of his lips that were twitching upwards.
“That’s tough,” he stated the obvious as he ran his jewelry adorned fingers through his burgundy hair—with the way you saw a line of sweat drip down by the side of his face, you knew you weren’t the only one who found the bookstore to be in a strangely warm temperature today.
You saw a few air conditioners here and there on the walls, and they were working perfectly fine earlier, so you assumed they were probably just malfunctioning. “Are the air conditioners going through a malfunction or something?” he voiced out your thoughts for you as he practically asked himself the question with the way it came out as a whisper while he was looking around.
You took your cardigan off, and only then did you notice the stark contrast between your choices of outfits. You were clad in a pink knitted cardigan your mother made by her own hands—she gave it to you as a present for Christmas a while ago, and underneath it was a white camisole top decorated with lace and a pink ribbon on its center—something you added yourself. You wore a long, white ruffled skirt, a piece of clothing you bought online two years ago when you and your online best friend agreed upon buying it together to wear it the moment you’ll finally get the chance to meet up. You stopped talking to each other a year ago, so you just started to wear it to your own liking. You chose to wear the pink doll shoes you found at a thrift store a week ago, and the cherry on top was the white ribbon hair clips you placed on either side of your hair.
“They were doing just fine when I first came in, so I guess it has something to do with technical issues.” You shrugged, and the man mirrored your actions yet again as he proceeded to fully take off his leather jacket as well.
Just as he parted his lips to say something, your phone suddenly rang, making both of you look at the device you didn’t even notice you were still holding in your hands until now. Staring right into your eyes was your roommate’s caller id on the phone screen, and for a second, you were debating whether to answer or not.
You decided to ignore the latter, figuring the call was made regarding the book. You apologetically smiled at the man first, gesturing to your phone as he returned your smile, urging you to go ahead as he mouths something about checking out other sections of the book store so you could have some privacy.
Once he was out of the frame, you didn’t hesitate to press the green button, bringing the phone up to your ears. “Before I proceed to say anything, I need you to answer a question of mine first. Do you think you’re capable of committing murder today?” She asked from the other end of the line, making your brows furrow as you scoffed in both confusion and disbelief at the sudden confusion. “Am I what?”
“Please just say yes or no,” she said in a hurried tone. “No... why? Did something bad happen over there?” She chuckled nervously as you heard the shuffling of bedsheets, assuming she was either rolling around her bed or sitting up.
“No, but... you see, about the book I asked for you to buy... remember that guy from my linguistics class I told you about last weekend?” You were confused about where the conversation was heading, yet hummed in confirmation anyway. “I do. What about him?”
“Okay, so, thanks to my... connections, I found out just now that he owns an annotated physical copy of the book, and, if you’re already catching my drift...” she trailed off, yet the moment she heard your sigh from your end, she was quick to regain composure and stumble over her words.
“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I wouldn’t have sneaked the task in between your schedule if I had known beforehand—I just really don’t want to waste the opportunity of a potential connection between us... and, I mean, well, yeah, I should’ve done it by myself to begin with, but I wasn’t really thinking straight earlier in the morning so I—” you cut her off by ending the call, heading straight to your messages as you scrolled down to look for her contact number.
The sound of your nails clicking on the phone screen echoed across the empty aisle as you typed, “Go shoot your shot. Don’t stress it out, alright? Just make sure this won’t happen again. Love you :)” With a sigh, you turned your phone off and put it back inside your bag. You were happy for your roommate, yet at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel like you just wasted a portion of your day.
Exiting the aisle, your thoughts went back to the man you were just engaging in small talk with a few minutes ago, eyes darting around the bookstore to search for him. You didn’t see which direction he went when he left, already having your back turned against him the moment you heard his fading footsteps.
The man sitting by the register who seemed to be around the same age as you noticed you and was quick to call for your attention. “Are you looking for the redhead, miss?” And for a second, you were slightly embarrassed, but it was the truth, anyway, so you found yourself nodding wordlessly. “He already left a minute ago.”
Hearing those words come out of his mouth, you almost let a disappointed sigh slip out of your lips, but you were quick to cover it up. “I see. Thanks for telling me,” you said, flashing him a polite smile as he gave you his own.
Figuring there was no longer any purpose for you to stay inside the bookstore any longer, you headed to the exist, the clinking of the bells on top of the doors ringing in your ears as you swung it open, putting your cardigan back on when the cold temperature of the city hit your skin like a speeding truck. Only then did you realize you didn’t even get to ask for his name, and since then, he hadn’t left your mind for the rest of the day.
The next time wasn’t any different. You were taking a stroll at the park for a much-needed unwinding after taking your exams. Kids were running around and chasing each other by the grassy fields, couples were being all cute and cuddly as they sat by the benches, and some elderly people were walking around much like how you were, admiring the beautiful sceneries unfolding in front of their very own eyes.
Your pink dress was being carried away by the soft breeze, making it flow as you took one step after another. Thankfully, you chose to wear a long dress for the day, so you didn’t have to worry about any potential wardrobe malfunctions.
From a near distance, you saw a little boy standing by the grass fields pointing towards you. His voice was a little loud, so you managed to hear what he was saying to the two men he was with. “Wooyoung-hyung, look! A princess!”
The little boy’s comment caught you off guard, making you look the other way as you pretended not to hear the words he was saying, which were hard to ignore due to how loud he was speaking. “Kyungmin, she’s not a princess, and you can’t just point to strangers like that!”
The man who you assumed to be his older brother lightly scolded him, and for a second, you were debating between playing along with the child’s wide imagination—it wasn’t his fault for thinking you were a princess as he was still young, after all, or fleeing from the park so his attention would be directed to something else so his brother would stop scolding him. “But she is a princess! Seonghwa-hyung, you see it too, right?” The other man with them was probably a friend of the little boy’s brother.
“Well, Kyungmin, she might look like one, but she isn’t—” the man you assumed to be Seonghwa stopped in between his words all of a sudden, and the next thing you knew was the little boy was standing right in front of you, tugging on your dress that was still flowing due to the wind.
“Kyungmin!” Both men yelled his name in unison, but he ignored them, his attention fully focused on you instead. “Miss pretty lady! You’re a princess, right? Right?” He looked up at you with a smile, and once again, you found yourself ignoring the latter between your choices of how to handle the situation.
You sat down so you could see each other eye to eye, a fond smile spreading across your face as you let out a soft laugh. “You think I’m a princess?” You tilted your head, making him let out a gasp of disbelief. “But you are! Wooyoung-hyung and Seonghwa-hyung won’t believe me, but I know you are! Right?” he asked for confirmation again, making you laugh once more as you rested your hands on the area of your chest where your heart was.
“Well… I think it depends on what you want to believe. I won’t tell you whether I’m a princess or not, but if you think I am, then so be it. What you believe in is what matters the most, and not what anyone else does, don’t you think?”
You figured talking some wisdom into a boy who’s probably still in kindergarten wasn’t exactly the best way to handle the situation, but it’s not like you knew better ways. Seeing his smile grow even wider after hearing your words, though, was enough to let you know you handled it just fine. “So you are a princess! I knew it!” Okay, well, that was definitely not the reaction you were going for, but at least he’s happy, right?
“You should tell them that, too!” He pointed to where his brother and his friend stood, but this time, there were three of them, and the one standing in the middle was definitely not an unfamiliar face to you contrary to the two who stood by his side. You certainly couldn’t have been mistaken—especially not when you saw his burgundy hair.
Your eyes met briefly, yours widened and his completely normal, save for the fond gaze you assumed was probably directed to the little boy in front of you. He probably didn’t even recognize you at all. “Come with me, miss pretty lady! You should meet them so they’ll be proven wrong,” he said, reaching for your arm as he took a step towards where the three men stood.
When you didn’t budge from where you crouched at all, he looked back at you with a confused expression on his face. “What’s the matter, miss pretty lady?”
You chuckled awkwardly as you stood up, looking down at him. “They’re waiting for you, not me. Go on now, don’t keep them waiting. I’m sure you’ve proven them wrong already, anyway,” you said, using your free hand to take his off your wrist. “Are you sure? I…”
“Kyungmin!” His older brother called out his name once more, making his head turn to where they were all standing, patiently waiting for the little boy to go back to them. “See? You should go.” You ushered, making him look back and forth between you and his brother and his friends for about a few seconds.
“Well… okay, then.” The frown on his face was a huge contrast to the huge smile he once had a few seconds ago, and you were quick to do whatever you could to bring it back.
“Hey, don’t be sad, alright? It’s always better to spend days like this with a smile on your face,” you said, smiling at him fondly. “Will I get to see you again?” The sudden question put you at a loss for words, and you spent a good couple of seconds thinking of how to respond correctly.
“Neither of us know the answer to that, but if you ever see me again, I promise I’ll let you introduce me to your brother and his friends, okay?” It was definitely not the right thing to say, but it was certainly what the boy wanted to hear.
With the smile on his face returning, he waved at you enthusiastically, running back to the three men who have been waiting for him for quite a while now. He approached them with a cheerful expression on his face, and you watched them slowly start to smile as well while the little boy told them about his interaction with you.
Unbeknownst to you, your attention was unconsciously directed towards the burgundy haired man who was now exchanging laughter with his friends while the little boy was still going on about his story. This time, he was wearing a see-through black jacket with a beige compression long-sleeve shirt underneath, partnered with baggy denim jeans that were secured by a black belt with embellishments. His ears had less piercings this time, and so were the amount of necklaces he wore. His boots were the same as the ones you saw him wear when you first met him, and his fingers were still adorned with multiple accessories. You could tell he opted for a casual look today, yet he still looked as cool as ever. Perhaps it was due to the vibe he carries with him, and not just his choices of clothing itself. There’s still a huge contrast between your outfits.
The little boy didn’t mention his name when he was talking to you earlier, and that was the only thing you were disappointed about with your heartwarming interaction with him. You’d probably look strange if you were to approach them, yet it proved to be impossible either way as they now had their backs faced towards you, walking away as they continued their conversation. Luck really hasn’t been on your side lately. You wonder when it will be.
Three weeks later, and you’re now walking through the halls in search of your roommate. Thirty minutes ago, she sent you a message, telling you to meet her on the third floor. She didn’t really tell you why, and it drove you off the edge more than it should’ve—one thing you’ve always disliked was when people would ask you to meet up for an unspecified reason, or even worse, message you by texting you only your name and your name alone without telling you what’s the matter beforehand. So now, here you were, eyes searching the halls in hopes of finding a familiar face.
“Hey!” A familiar voice called out a few steps behind where you stood, making you immediately look back. Sighing in relief as you recognized who it was, your roommate made her way towards you, pushing past the small portion of people crowding the halls. “Sorry for asking to meet up all of a sudden—I know you hate it when I do this, but I promise this is the last time!” So was last week, you said in your thoughts.
“What’s this about, anyway? And it better not be about your crush from your linguistics class because I swear—” She cuts you off with an apologetic chuckle, making you sigh in disappointment. “Nope, I’m not doing it.”
Just as you were about to walk away, she held your arm to keep you steady in your place, desperately pleading as she shook your arm repeatedly. “Please, please just hear me out! I promise I’ll leave you alone after this!” No way in hell you would, you thought once again.
Still, you chose to hear her out anyway. Sure, she may be annoying at times—especially when it comes to her undying crush on the boy from her linguistics class, but you can’t really deny the fact that you hold a soft spot for her deep within. When it wasn’t about her man who technically isn’t her man but you’re sure will be her man one day, she was really fun to be around. She was loud and outgoing, a huge contrast to your calm and collected personality, and as different as you both may be, you feel the most comfortable around her compared to anyone and everyone else. Whenever she’d notice you were feeling down, she wouldn’t hesitate to speedrun to the nearest convenience store by where you both lived, buy you your favorite food even during the times her pockets are begging for her to leave them alone for once, and put on your favorite movie once she comes back.
So then, you now find yourself heading towards the library to look for yet another book her crush has apparently been frequently visiting the library for lately. You figured you should hire whoever’s airing all this information to her as your detective one day, if it ever came to it.
Apparently, the book is a tale as old as time, so he couldn’t really find a copy of it anywhere, hence why he chooses to visit the library on a daily basis to read it. Your roommate thought sharing the same interests with him would be a great way to deepen her “connection” with him—if they even had one to begin with, considering how the only bridge between both of them was the annotated book she borrowed from him—which she still hasn’t returned—and that was pretty much all of it. She claims she’s too shy to approach him, and maybe that’s why.
You found yourself standing in between two tall bookshelves once again, the situation being somewhat familiar to you in a way that almost made you laugh. This time, though, the air conditioners were working just fine, and you weren’t accompanied by a presence other than your own.
Your eyes search through the books neatly stacked in the shelves, squinting and inching closer to get a better view in case you accidentally miss the book you’re looking for. There was a blank space in between two books, and for a moment, you assume the book had already been borrowed by your roommate’s crush, or maybe someone else.
You were about to message your roommate to tell her about it, until you heard some shuffling from the other side of the shelf you were facing, drawing a confused expression on your face. You heard from one of your colleagues that the librarian was way too strict for everyone’s liking, so students would mostly stop by the library just to borrow a book, but never to actually stay.
Which student was brave enough to actually stop by the library to read? Wouldn’t they be at least a little scared to be yelled at to shut up over the smallest of things such as breathing like how a normally functioning person should?
Peeking through the empty space in between the books to see who it was, your eyes widened comically as you recognized the person solely from their hands resting on the table alone. The sight of a singularly colored nail and layers of rings and bracelets couldn’t have been more familiar to you.
But what was he doing here? His hair was half blonde and half black, though, so you were contemplating whether your assumptions about his identity were correct or not, but you knew there was only one way to find out—and it certainly wasn’t peeking through a bookshelf like a creep.
Exiting the aisle—a familiar experience once again, you slowly walked towards the table while rethinking your life decisions, wondering if you should just leave him alone and mind your own business. You were on the brink of considering it, but it wasn’t until you recognized what he was reading.
It was the book your roommate asked you to borrow from the library, and it was certainly the one meant to be placed in the blank space by the aisle you were searching through just now.
Your mind was racing with questions pleading to be answered—the first ones being, Who the hell is this man? Why do I keep seeing him around? Why did no one ever tell me he goes to the same university as I do? And what is his name?
You figured there couldn’t have been a better time for your questions to be answered other than now, and even if you were gambling with the possibilities of him either recognizing you or not feeling any sense of familiarity with you at all, you couldn’t really care less right now.
“Hey,” you were hesitant, making your voice come off as soft and barely above a whisper—and it certainly wasn’t due to your fear of being scolded by the librarian. The man shot up and immediately turned his head around, and as he stared at you with those eyes of his, you knew your assumptions regarding his identity were correct, after all.
For about a second or two, all he did was stare at you with a blank expression on his face, and you swore you were about to let the ground swallow you whole right there and then. But for the next second, his face softens as he flashes you a toothy grin, and the words that soon followed after it caught you completely off guard. “It’s you.” It’s you?
What on Earth could he have possibly meant by that? Does that mean he recognized you when his friend’s little brother was talking to you within a fair distance from where he and his friends stood by the park, after all? Does that mean he remembers? “I was starting to think I’d stop seeing you around. Turns out we’re closer than I thought we would be.” Okay, what?
“What?” You voice out your thoughts by accident, tilting your head in confusion as all he did in return was smile at you once more. “Third time’s the charm, after all, isn’t it?” He closes the book laid out in front of him on the table, pulling out the chair beside him, tapping on it as he gestured for you to take a seat.
You do so wordlessly, awkwardly fiddling with a loose stitch of your white knitted sweater adorned with baby pink strawberry patterns. How come you’ve never seen him around? With a face as strikingly beautiful as his, you’re sure you would’ve already noticed him long ago—or maybe you were just looking at the wrong places all along.
“He still thinks you’re a princess, you know.” He rests his elbow on the table, placing his chin on his hand as he looks at you with a smile. “Who?”
“Kyungmin—the little boy from the park, remember?” That was all it took for you to put two and two together and realize what he was talking about, making you let out a hum of realization, nodding soon after. “He hasn’t stopped talking to us about it, especially Wooyoung, since he’s his older brother and he’s pretty much the only one out of all of us who keeps on breaking his little bubble of imagination.”
The conversation flowed through more smoothly than you expected a few seconds ago, and the next thing you knew was you were stifling a chuckle, careful not to drive the librarian mad—actually, was she even still around right now? He was practically speaking in a normal tone and not in hushed whispers, so he should’ve been told off by now already. But he isn’t.
“It was a little hard trying to convince him to go back to you and your friends, honestly…” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as he chuckled at your response.
“Kids and their imaginations never fail to impress me. You know, when we went to the park again last night, he kept crying because he couldn’t see you anywhere. He said you promised you’d let him introduce you to us once you both meet each other again, so he was really upset. It was adorable, though.”
You found yourself smiling as you imagined the little boy crying in the arms of his brother due to not seeing you around, this time being the one chuckling.
“I didn’t mean to leave him hanging off by my words… I hope it wasn’t too much for your friend to handle his tantrums,” you said, smiling apologetically. He waves his arms off in front of his chest—another action appearing to be somehow familiar to you. “Don’t feel bad about it. Pretty sure Wooyoung’s used to it by now,” he responded, shrugging afterwards. He was right, the boy was his friend’s younger brother, after all.
Finding both yourselves at a loss for another topic to discuss, you opted for the first thing that came up in your head. “You changed your hair color,” you stated the obvious, rushing over to make a follow-up statement in order not to look stupid, “it suits you.”
But only after voicing it out did you realize that perhaps maybe leaving your first statement as it is would’ve been a better option. Unbeknownst to you, heat immediately flushed through his cheeks, but he was quick to cover it up, making you fail to notice the way your words made his breath hitch for a slight second. “You think so?”
“W-Well, yeah. Burgundy looked just as great, though.” It was a huge lie, though. Sure, burgundy looked good on him and suited his style pretty well, but a split-dyed hair look is always a hit or miss.
For him to make it look this good, though, definitely proved to you that it’s a hit—a rare one. Even so, you were just glad you managed to save yourself from embarrassment, playing off the fact that you literally just complimented a stranger.
But with the way you’ve been thinking of him ever since you first touched each other’s hands by accident at the bookstore, was he really still a mere stranger to you at this point?
He found himself smiling at your comment, fiddling with the rings on his fingers like how you were doing with your sweater just a while ago. “Thanks, I definitely needed to hear that.” With his response, you looked at him in confusion, subtly asking for context. He was quick to catch on, bracing himself for a little bit of a story time.
“My roommates have been flaming me ever since I came home with the red dye all gone, asking me if my hairstylist ran out of bleach in the middle of the process. They’ve been teasing me about how my scalp is probably begging to be freed by the shackles of my stylist at this point, too.” You then ended up thinking about it as well. Just how many times has this man changed his hair color by now?
“Wanna take a guess?” You didn’t need further explanation from him in order to know what he was talking about, as you’ve already been pondering about it anyway.
“I’ll say… five times, maybe?” If the correct answer was to go way past that, you think you’ll end up having the same thoughts as his roommates by the end of the day. “I hate to be the bearer of the bad news, but the answer’s very far from that.” Oh.
Seeing the flabbergasted expression on your face, he laughed loudly, and only then were your suspicions about the librarian no longer being around confirmed. If she was, he’d be thrown out the window by now. “Surprising, isn’t it? I don’t know how my scalp is still holding out well until now, either.” He shrugged, and about a couple of seconds after, you ended up joining him on his fit of laughter as well.
“I gotta say, though, that’s really impressive. Anyone else would be bald by now,” you said, making him laugh once more with how you voiced out your thoughts in such a serious tone. His laughter died down after a little while, eyes now staring right into yours. “What brings you here, though?” He finally brought it up, making you wordlessly point to the closed book in front of where he sat by the table.
“Take a guess. It’s not any different from last time,” you said, and he was quick to piece your words together. “Your roommate?” You nodded, mimicking his actions as you rested your chin on your hands like how he did earlier.
Right now, he was lazily slouched on the chair, one arm of his placed on the table as the other was resting on his thigh. He seemed to be comfortable. Only then did you manage to look at him completely from head to toe.
The contrast between your choices of clothing remained the same as ever, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. For you, beneath your white knitted sweater was a pink lace camisole top, paired with a short, pink frilly skirt. Along with your pink doll shoes—one that was different from what you wore when you went to the bookstore a while ago, was a pair of knee-length lace socks with pink ribbons resting atop its garter. And lastly, for your hairstyle, you decided to go for a simpler look today, with half of it tied up and adorned with a large pink ribbon hair clip.
For him, you noticed he looked simpler than how he’d usually style himself. But then again, you’ve only ever seen him twice before today, so you were not one to talk. He wore an oversized black shirt with a simple red graphic design in front, and it was tucked in his black denim cargo jeans that were held up by an equally simple black belt, partnered up with glossy black boots that were shining every time he’d move his feet around due to the lights by the roof of the library reflecting on its shiny surface. He was only wearing one necklace today, but as always, his hands were clad in multiple accessories. A cap, which you assumed he was probably wearing earlier before you found him, remained sat on his lap. When he ran his right hand through his hair, the sleeve of his oversized shirt went down a little, giving you the chance to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that says, “NO 1 LIKE ME.”
Once again, you failed to see the corners of his lips twitching upward when he noticed your eyes raking over his form, eyes twinkling in amusement. You’ve only seen each other thrice, but for each time that you did, something that would never overlook his attention was the way you’d always examine his clothing. It was cute, though. And it’s not like he doesn’t do the exact same thing every time as well, anyway.
His smirk disappeared as quick as the speed of light the moment your eyes met his, making you avert your gaze immediately. It’s not like you were uncomfortable, but rather because his eyes just hold such an intense aura within them that never fails to make you feel intimidated—in a good way, you assume.
“You know,” you began to speak, although still refusing to meet his eyes, “I still don’t know what your name is, and we’ve crossed paths three times already…” Due to the lack of a response from him, you were quick to assume you were probably overstepping a few lines.
What if he doesn’t really want your connection with each other to go way past two people who coincidentally see each other in the most random circumstances and places? What if he liked things better this way—you not knowing his name, and him not knowing yours?
But your thoughts dissolved into nothingness the moment he finally spoke up, his voice a little softer than you could recall as he says, “Kim Hongjoong.” Of course his name is just as beautiful as he is. Were you really surprised at this point?
“Kim Hongjoong,” you let his name roll off your tongue, and something you failed to notice yet again due to how you were still refusing to face him was the way his breath hitched—again. “What about you?”
He was quick to come up with a question to ask in order to keep his composure, head tilting ever so slightly, secretly anticipating for you to turn your head towards him again. And it seems luck chose to be on his side today, with the way you did exactly what he wished for you to.
“Me?” You asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, you.” You were hesitant at first—once you and Hongjoong finally exchange your names with each other, there’s no guarantee of which direction your affiliation with him would lead to.
Sure, you may have been overanalyzing things a little—maybe he’s just asking for your name with the hopes of being friends, but even so, you couldn’t help but wonder where you were both headed, because even if you were only a potential friend to him, he certainly wasn’t one for you.
You knew the risks of dating way before you even first entered college two years ago. If anyone were to wish for a relationship, the best periods of time to do so would either be in high school or adulthood. High school’s for the cheesy moments, the sneakily exchanged glances during class, the chasing each other by the fields, the heartfelt confessions during prom night. You’d break up with each other over something childish yet would be serious if you were to be at the age of a high school student, and you’d forget all about it the moment you step into your college life.
Getting into a relationship once you have grown into an adult would be the best option out of all, because as we grow older, we learn more things about life each day. Relationships during high school are ruined pretty easily usually because of how both parties aren’t emotionally mature enough to handle conflicts, and such an occurrence can be easily avoided if you’re both functioning adults with a better perspective on most things in life. It’d certainly be more mature compared to the aforementioned.
But relationships during college aren’t exactly the brightest of all. College students are around the ages where all you’d ever want is to mess around and have fun no matter the cost knowing you’ll barely ever get the chance to do so once you step into adulthood. So, with that being said, relationships being taken seriously by college students isn’t really a common occurrence. They live to fuck around and find out, and that’s all that’s there to it. You’ve seen girls getting their hearts shattered left and right by stupid men who seem to only think with their hormones, and you know how bad it gets.
From struggling to balance their studies and relationships to completely losing focus on their goals because apparently a conventionally attractive yet emotionally unintelligent man is worth crying over more than great examination results were, all you know about college relationships is that it either plays out surprisingly well and lasts long, or it could initiate the beginning of your downfall for years on end. You swore you’d never try it out, afraid to end up being part of the latter.
But as hard as relationships during college seem, resisting your undeniable attraction towards the man sitting in front of you also proved to be just as difficult with the way all you could think about at the very moment was how those soft hands of his clicking on the table while patiently awaiting your response would feel against your skin. It wasn’t much of a surprise for you, anyway—you knew you were doomed the moment your eyes first met his in an empty aisle and you ended up staring at him longer than you should’ve.
You knew there was no point in considering the pros and cons of deepening your connection with someone who wasn’t meant to play a role of just a friend and nothing more in your life—and might I add, someone you’re heavily crushing on yet would rather jump off a cliff than admit it to yourself and accept the terms, knowing even if he asked for your name that day at the park or that one time in the bookstore, you would’ve given him what he wanted with zero hesitation anyway.
And so you do.
He proceeded to mirror your actions from earlier, rolling your name out of his tongue—and you swear your name hasn’t sounded so beautiful until now. “That’s a beautiful name you’ve got,” he starts, and when you finally gained enough courage to turn your head to the side and meet his eyes, you were met with that toothy grin of his you didn’t seem to be able to get enough of, “it suits you pretty well.”
“Oh, I—” You weren’t sure whether to be thankful for your friend for saving you from embarrassing yourself over not knowing how to react to Hongjoong’s unprovoked compliment, or to completely loathe her for cutting in between your conversation with him once again.
You’ve been getting deja vu over the parallels between everything that’s been happening right now that has already happened before although under a different situation way too often it’s actually starting to make your head hurt.
The loud ringing of your phone echoed around the empty library, and once again, you found yourself contemplating between pressing the green button or the red one. But not this time, no. You figured she’s probably calling to ask you whether you’ve borrowed the old book from the library yet, and that’s a question you were capable of answering either through text or personally, so you clicked on the red button, hearing Hongjoong let out a confused hum. “Why’d you decline?”
Because I’m feeling selfish right now and couldn’t care less about my roommate and her linguistics crush, especially not when you’re sitting right in front of me looking so breathtakingly beautiful like you’re an angel from an art museum that came to life and escaped to taste the wonders of life, was what was begging to escape from the pit of your mouth, “It’s probably about the book, so I’ll just talk to her in person later,” was all that came out.
And with the way he looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else, you knew he knew of your thoughts. Thankfully, he was kind enough not to bring it up. Or he probably didn’t notice at all. Truth be told, you’re hoping the latter was the case.
“What’s up with your roommate and books, anyway?” He asked curiously, although you could tell there was a hint of playfulness with the way he spoke. “You mean what’s up with her crush from her linguistics class and books?” You shrugged, holding back your laughter when you noticed his eyebrows shoot upward ever so slightly with his mouth agape.
“Oh. So that’s what it’s about, huh?” You let out an exasperated sigh, faking a frustrated expression as you responded, “Unfortunately so.”
Classes had already ended a few minutes ago, but students were still allowed to stay in the library afterwards—at first, you thought the implemented policy was stupid at first, seeing how literally no one ever visits the library, but now, you find yourself being grateful for it.
You both sat beside each other as silence surrounded both of you, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that would drive you on the edge and make you hurriedly think of what you should do or say in order to dissipate the looming tension, no. The silence between you and Hongjoong was comfortable. He wasn’t demanding you to speak, and neither were you. But just as the silence was starting to grow deeper, you were drowning in an ocean of your own thoughts again—specifically, thoughts about Hongjoong.
You weren’t sure when it happened or if you were the one who moved or if it was him, but the distance between both of you was now smaller than how it was a few minutes ago—you were sitting so close beside each other you’d occasionally feel the fabric of his jeans brush against your thigh whenever either of you would move. Since he was now closer, the scent of his cedarwood perfume engulfed you completely. You thought it made perfect sense for someone like him to favor such a scent—it suits him pretty well.
Every now and then, you’d steal a few glances from your peripheral vision while he remains engrossed in his phone, chewing the inside of your cheek whenever you’d find yourself wondering what it would feel like to rest your head on those shoulders of his. You were wondering what it feels like to rest your head on those shoulders of his?
And since you’re way too focused on not making yourself too obvious, you, as usual, fail to notice him doing the exact same thing as well. He was scrolling on his phone, sure, but in reality, he wasn’t even reading any of the posts that were appearing on his feed, way too focused on the way your eyelashes would flutter so beautifully whenever you’d blink.
The awkward smile you gave him when you first met each other in the bookstore is an image he had taken a mental photograph of, the memory still lingering in the back of his head clearly. The first thing he noticed about you that day was the way almost all of the pieces of clothing you wore were adorned in ribbons, as it reminded him of himself, in a way.
But instead of ribbons, anyone could find more than a handful of silver chains attached to almost everything in his closet. You seemed to love wearing knitted sweaters and cardigans, much like how half of his wardrobe consisted of leather jackets in varying designs and colors, though most of them were black, just like how most of yours were pink. It’s amusing to him how you two were so similar yet so different all the same.
The day he went to the park with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung’s little brother, Kyungmin, he wasn’t really any different from you. You’d never know of it much like the other way around, but even when he went to the park with the same purpose you had, he couldn’t get you off his mind. It was as if his mind was the shore, and you were the waves of the ocean constantly pushing forward after being pulled away by the tides.
So, when he came back to where Seonghwa and Wooyoung were after separating himself from them for a while to look for less crowded areas of the park they could go to, to say he was surprised to see you talking to Kyungmin would be nothing short of a huge understatement.
“What’s Kyungmin doing over there?” he asked Seonghwa and Wooyoung, to which one only laughed at while the other sighed. “He kept on insisting that the girl he’s talking to right now is a princess and wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I told him she isn’t. Then he ran off, and the next thing we both knew was he’s already tugging on her dress.” Hongjoong’s gaze went back to you, who was now crouching to face Kyungmin eye to eye.
It wasn’t exactly like he could blame the little boy for thinking that way—you did look like a princess, especially with the beautiful dress you chose to wore that day, and not to mention, the natural look of your face he was sure people under the influence—and even those who aren’t—would mistaken as one that belongs to an angel gracing the Earth with her presence.
He couldn’t believe his very own eyes that day. When he left you by yourself when you had to answer a phone call in the bookstore, he was originally supposed to head back to the aisle you were at after checking out the other sections that seemed interesting enough to grab his attention, but just as he was about to, another one of his friends (a.k.a roommates) along with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, Mingi, messaged him, telling him to come home as soon as possible because Yunho burnt the kitchen while trying to remake a recipe he saw on his feed.
At first, he thought they were just messing around with him—a normal occurrence, at this point, but it wasn’t until Yeosang sent a video of the kitchen actually burning to their group chat. Hongjoong could no longer afford to go through all the five stages of grief looking for an apartment that would suffice for eight people, so he immediately left the bookstore and ran faster than the speed of light.
Just as he was about to cross the street the moment the lights for vehicles turned red, he started contemplating between quickly heading back to the bookstore just to bid you farewell or just heading straight to his apartment building. His phone vibrated once again, and his lockscreen was being flooded by notifications of his roommates spamming his DMs, most of them coming from Jongho and San. Only then did the answer become clear to him.
Fortunately, he was able to fix the fifth problem his roommates have created for the week on time, immediately proceeding to scold all of them, save for Seonghwa who just got home from buying groceries and was now cleaning up the kitchen. For a fleeting moment, his mind drifts back to you, making him scold the six men even more than he should’ve, not-so-slightly upset over the fact that they timed burning the kitchen perfectly right when Hongjoong was just about to head back to you and continue your conversation.
Later that night, they were messaging one another one by one privately, each of them all saying the same thing: “It wasn’t really that deep. What got him so riled up?” But not even Hongjoong himself knew the answer to the question he never knew they were thinking of.
He thought he wasn’t going to see you again, and it never failed to make him feel confused whenever he found himself being a little too disappointed over it. So, when he saw you again—talking to his friend’s little brother, if anything, he was at a loss for both words and thoughts. The moment Kyungmin pointed to where he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa stood, your eyes met for a fleeting second, and with the way he saw your eyes widen ever so slightly, he felt a little too happy over you recognizing him, so he did the first thing he thought of—trying to look as unbothered as possible even though his heart was literally spinning around, begging to be freed.
He failed to realize how smiling at you would’ve been a better option until he saw the way the corners of your lips went downwards ever so slightly upon seeing the look on his face, and before he could even clear things up by waving at you or literally anything to make sure you know he knows you, your gaze was already back on Kyungmin, and by the looks of it, you didn’t seem like you wanted to look his way yet again. To be fair, neither would he.
And as usual, he still couldn’t get you off his mind that day—though this time, it was worse, especially with the realization over the fact that he could’ve walked up to you yet didn’t dawning over him. He was beyond frustrated, to say the least. So, so frustrated he couldn’t even sleep.
Figuring his emotions were way too all over the place for him to be able to fall into a deep slumber, he sat up with a groan, stumbling over with his steps as he went to the living room, finding Yunho sitting by himself on the couch while watching a film that seemed to be a coming of age romance movie.
“What are you all up and about for?” Hongjoong walked around the couch, sitting beside Yunho as the cushion underneath him sank. “I could ask you the same question, you know,” Yunho responded, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance, obviously way too focused on the movie playing on the television screen in front of him.
“Just frustrated over some things.” Hongjoong leaned against the couch, sighing as he initiated a staring contest with the ceiling. With this, Yunho was quick to reach for the remote, pausing the movie before shuffling around so he could face Hongjoong while sitting down. “What’s the matter?”
“Do you ever think about something so often it starts to make you feel frustrated?” His question had Yunho pondering for about a while, making him think about it thoroughly.
“Depends on what this “something” we’re talking about is. I’m pretty sure that would mean two different things, depending on whether it’s “something” or “someone,” so which one of the two is it?” Hongjoong was hoping Yunho wouldn’t bring it up, but oh well. If he’s screwed, then he’s screwed.
All he had to do was stare right into Yunho’s eyes, hoping he’d put two and two together—and luckily, he did. “Since when?” Yunho was surprised, given how Hongjoong isn’t exactly the type of person who’d let himself be bothered by such things. Still, he wanted Hongjoong to tell him all about it, thankful he trusts him enough to do so.
“I don’t know, honestly. We just met by coincidence in the bookstore a few blocks away about a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to go through a single day without my head being filled with thousands of thoughts ever since then.”
“By coincidence?” Yunho tilted his head, and Hongjoong was quick to rewind and tell him all about it. After Hongjoong was done telling him about how it started and how it’s going so far, Yunho found himself smiling, already knowing what was up with Hongjoong, while he himself was still left in the dark.
He resorted to convincing Hongjoong to get up and do all the work himself so he’d be the one to come to terms about his feelings first-hand. “You know, nothing’s gonna happen if you keep on refusing to make a move. You can’t just expect your paths to cross once again if you’ve been staying at the same spot for days on end.”
And that was when he messaged Wooyoung privately once he was back in his room, asking if he was free to hang out for the upcoming day and if he wouldn’t mind tagging Kyungmin along with him. You’ll never know he was the reason behind Kyungmin’s second visit to the park, and part of him thinks things will be better off that way.
However, both of you were going through your own predicaments unconsciously. Until now, you still don’t know why you’re thinking of resting your head on his shoulder, and in his case, he still doesn’t know why on Earth he actually debated between bidding you farewell or saving his apartment from its impending doom.
It didn’t help how you weren’t really one to open up to people, so you were left all alone trying to fix the tangled wires inside your head, unlike Hongjoong, who was blessed enough by the gods to have a friend like Yunho. Still, despite being provided moral support and advice, he wasn’t any less oblivious to his feelings than you were.
“What’s it like?” You asked all of a sudden, surprising both Hongjoong and yourself. Much to your surprise, though, Hongjoong let the blooming conversation flow freely as he said in response, “What do you mean?” You shrugged, fiddling with yet another loose stitch of your sweater—you figured you’d definitely have to fix it up once you get home later.
“You know… having a lot of roommates.” You weren’t sure why you were asking about his roommates when you could’ve asked a question about him instead, yet you were blissfully unaware of the fact that Hongjoong was more than happy to hear you ask about his roommates—his best friends.
“It’s fun on most days, yet it’s also very frustrating sometimes. Living with seven people doesn’t exactly sound like the best experience when you’re living in an apartment that can barely fit all of you—even more when more than half of us have proven themselves deserving to be banned from the kitchen.” You laughed at his words, his laughter soon following after, watching you attempting to wind down your voice with a toothy grin on his face. “Why’s that?” You managed to ask in between your stifled laughs.
“Remember when we first met?” How could you ever forget? “Yeah, what about it?” You tilted your head, wondering what your first encounter had to do with Hongjoong’s roommates burning their kitchen. “While you were on a phone call with someone, I was in the middle of checking out the other sections, but just as I was about to head back to where you were, they spammed our group chat with messages, each of them telling me to head back home as soon as possible. Wanna guess why?”
“Please don’t tell me someone actually set the kitchen on fire.” Hongjoong only laughed in response, shaking his head. “Unfortunately.” Your eyes widened slightly, scoffing in disbelief. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” This time, it was now Hongjoong’s turn to look at you in utter disbelief, making you think he was actually offended over you not believing his story for a split second.
“Don’t wanna believe me? Here,” he said, showing you the video waiting to be played on his phone screen as he gestured for you to press the button yourself. As the video started playing, a look of shock spread all over your face as you watched the fire get worse as the video progressed, hearing screams from people whom you could only assume were his roommates.
Someone draped a towel over the flames, hurriedly stepping back when his solution turned out to be an additional problem with the way the fire grew even more. “Mingi, are you fucking stupid?! Take that towel back!” to which the man named Mingi responded with, “No way in hell! San, you do it!” followed by another, “Don’t drag me into the consequences of your stupidity!”
You heard someone from the background yell Hongjoong’s name, and as the camera was turned towards where the sound came from, you were met with the sight of a man who you recognized as Wooyoung hiding behind someone who seemed to be way too calm considering the fact that the kitchen was literally being set on fire—he was even eating an apple, if anything. The video switched to the front camera, revealing a man who, this time, seemed to look too happy despite the fire unfolding right behind him, and he even had the guts to giggle and wave to the camera.
Needless to say, you were left speechless, and the video wasn’t even halfway finished yet. You pressed his screen to pause the video, being met with the sight of him contemplating whether to laugh over the memorable (strangely enough) moment or to let his grudges come crawling back at him.
Looking at the expression on his face, you couldn’t help but laugh, your voice echoing around the quiet halls of the library. “So that’s what living with seven people looks like…” With the way you spoke, Hongjoong was unsure whether you meant it in a good way or not—and if he were to be honest, that’s exactly what made your reaction even more amusing.
“That’s also why I wasn’t able to come back to the aisle after looking around. Sorry,” he apologized, sheepishly rubbing his nape. You were quicker than a millisecond to dismiss his apology, shaking your head as you reassured him that it’s fine and a while has passed ever since that day anyway so you don’t really mind anymore. You had that awkward smile on your face again, and Hongjoong had to put every fiber in him to use in order to hold himself back from just melting right there and then.
Suddenly, your phone rang yet again, cutting your conversation with Hongjoong short. Assuming it was your roommate calling you, you were about to decline the call, but it wasn’t until you read the contact number’s nickname and realized it was your mother calling you and not your roommate.
You were quick to tidy yourself and hung your pink crocheted crossbody bag over your shoulder, reaching for the book that was resting in front of Hongjoong by the table, retracting your hand for a split second when you realized you hadn’t even told him yet that the book your roommate wanted you to borrow from the library was the one he was reading before you approached him.
He looked up at you from his seat, tilting his head. “You need it?” he asked, making you nod. “If you don’t mind, of course, it’s just—” Hongjoong waved you off, gesturing for you to take it, swearing he doesn’t mind at all. Just as you reached for the book once more, his hand rested on its cover at the same time, pushing it towards your direction. It didn’t take you longer than a second to realize your hands were on top of his. Your phone has stopped ringing, and the sound has now been replaced with your thundering heartbeat.
You were the first one to break the contact, taking your hand off his. Too focused on trying to look calm—you have no idea why having composure seems to turn itself into an almost unattainable challenge whenever Hongjoong was around—you fail to notice the way a hint of disappointment flashed on his eyes with you taking your hand off so soon, and it disappeared as quick as it showed up when you reached for the book once more the moment his hand was no longer sitting atop of it.
“I, um, have to go,” you stumbled over your words as you shoved the book inside your bag, “I’ll… see you around?” You sounded way too hopeful for your liking, but before you could take your words back and replace it with something more neutral, Hongjoong beat you to it by grinning at you widely, nodding at your words. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you around.”
But he doesn’t, and neither do you.
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Three weeks have passed, and the increasing amount of his library visits were starting to become more noticeable to the seven men Hongjoong shared his apartment with through every passing day. They all went to the same university, so they knew just how annoyingly cruel the campus librarian was, which made things even harder to piece together for them. Hongjoong had also spoken up once about how much he hates the librarian during one of their drinking games when he was under the influence, so his frequent visits at the library were really confusing—save for one person who had an idea what the reason behind it was.
“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” Mingi tilted his head at San who sat across from him, enthusiastically munching on the desserts he ordered while taking a few sips of his coffee in between—clearly, he didn’t hear Mingi’s question. “You’ve noticed it, right?” Mingi repeated his question, this time a little louder in hopes of getting an answer from San. His attempt proved to be successful as San finally looked up at him with a confused expression on his face. “Noticed what?”
“Oh, you know. Hongjoong and his sudden library star user transition,” he shrugged, and San let out a hum of realization after being given context. “Yeah, I have. What about it, though?” Mingi scoffed in disbelief, having a hunch that San was just playing dumb. “Come on, San. Don’t you think it’s strange? Because I do.” But the aforementioned man’s eyebrows only furrowed as he asked once again, “What is?”
“What isn’t strange about it? You know he hates the librarian just as much as we all do, right? Don’t you ever wonder what on Earth is he stopping by the library everyday for?” For a few seconds, the only thing San could do was stare at Mingi from across the table, mouth slightly agape as if he was trying to connect the dots inside his head. And then it clicks—finally. “Oh… Oh. I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it, it does seem a little weird.”
“Right? I asked Seonghwa last night if he knew anything about it, but he told me Hongjoong hasn’t brought up anything related to the library to him so far. I mean, sure, yeah, Hongjoong likes to read, so normally, it would make sense for him to visit the library every now and then—but everyday? Is he reading a compilation of the terms and conditions of every existing app?”
“You may be overanalyzing a little, don’t you think?” A familiar voice spoke up from behind San’s seat at the cafe, making him turn his head around as Mingi only had a smile on his face, already having seen the man enter the cafe before he even approached the two of them. “You know you can visit the library for more than one reason, right?” He gestured for San to move aside, opting to sit beside him as both of them were now facing Mingi, who sat on the opposite side of the table.
“And what would those other reasons be?” Both Mingi and San asked in unison. “I don’t know, maybe the usual things that happen when you’re a college student on the brink of graduation with an eye for attractive people?” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yunho, what the hell are you even talking about right now?”
Yunho rolled his eyes, leaning against the cushion of the sofa he sat on. “Think it through, Mingi. Hongjoong wouldn’t even dare to consider visiting the library everyday, had he not been developing feelings for a certain person he often sees there.” Both Mingi and San knew Hongjoong as someone who wasn’t quite fond of the idea of anything romantic, but it’s not like they knew what Yunho knew, anyway, so they resorted to laughing Yunho’s words off.
“You’re not onto something, Yunho,” Mingi began, and San continued his words, saying, “you’re on something.”
“Are you seriously accusing me of being high on a Saturday afternoon? Being high, if anything?” Yunho stared at the two men who were now proudly laughing over their joke in disbelief, frowning when he realized they didn’t even plan on taking his words with a grain of salt. “And are you seriously trying to get us to consider your idea of Hongjoong being hit by Cupid all of a sudden?”
“It’s not an idea, San. Just—would you just listen to at least a goddamn word I’ll be saying?” Yunho ran his hand through his hair, and only then did Mingi and San stop with their antics. Moments of Yunho being upset were extremely uncommon, and whenever it would happen, all of them would always fail to hear the end of it. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Where did your theory come from, anyway?”
“For the second time now, it’s not a theory. It’s a possibility loosely based on a conversation Hongjoong and I had a few weeks ago while you were all asleep.”
“So… a theory?”
“God, no!”
“It is, though.” San backed up Mingi, making him pat his back with a grateful expression on his face. “See? He gets me.” Yunho only responded by rolling his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a theory or not—just hear me out, please.” San could tell Yunho was growing tired of their shenanigans, so he was quick to lock in and get serious. “Shoot.”
“It was around three in the morning already, and I was in the living room watching a movie. Hongjoong suddenly came out of his room and sat beside me, and he asked me a question I wouldn’t have expected to come from him. He asked me if I’ve ever thought of something so often to the point where it drives me frustrated, and based on the look on his face that night, I assumed his answer would’ve been yes if I asked him the question instead and not the other way around. I told him it depends on whether it’s a “something” or a “someone,” and he gave me a look that non-verbally told me it was the latter in his case.”
“So, to sum it all up, he likes someone who visits the library often?” Mingi asked, and Yunho shook his head. “From the looks of it, I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for a certain someone to visit the library everyday.”
“Why the library, though? And why would he have to do it everyday? Doesn’t that sound a little creepy? Or maybe that’s just me, but, I mean, there’s no way you don’t find it weird at all, Yunho,” San said, wondering why on Earth would Hongjoong have to visit the library everyday just to see whoever his crush was.
Yunho sighed, “That’s not exactly the case, you know.” Both Mingi and San’s attention were completely hooked once again, both of them leaning forward on the sides of the table they sat on, eager to listen to what Yunho was about to tell them.
“What I’m thinking is that Hongjoong probably last saw his crush in the library, and that whoever that person is went out of town—but Hongjoong doesn’t know, hence why he keeps on visiting the library everyday in hopes of seeing his crush again.”
“That’s… oddly specific,” Mingi gave Yunho a skeptical gaze, whereas San remained drowning in his own thoughts. “The fact that your theory is actually highly likely to be correct is what scares me,” San said, finally speaking up after a few seconds of silence.
“It’s not a—”
“Yeah, yeah, not a theory! We get it!”
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It’s been three months, at most. You wanted nothing more but to leave your hometown and head back to your apartment—you never liked the suffocating feeling the walls of your mother’s household would always give you. You’re starting to miss hearing your roommate’s loud snoring in the brink of dawn, too. You wonder how she’s holding up—it’s not really your thing to keep in touch with people while you’re away as it only makes you miss them even more, and this is something you fortunately remembered at the last minute to tell her before you left.
Your mother had contacted you that time you were hanging out with Hongjoong in the library to tell you to head back to your household as she and her garbage of a boyfriend had scheduled a three month vacation for themselves, leaving you the responsibility to watch over their house while they go out and enjoy their lives to its fullest. How pathetic.
You vividly remember feeling your heart ache with flames while you had to fight back your tears while packing your things—trying so hard to convince your roommate—who you assumed by that time was probably hanging out with the guy from her linguistics class—that you were fine when she was on the other line of the call while you were informing her about your sudden vacation, even though it was painfully obvious you weren’t by the way your voice kept on trembling with every word you spoke.
It didn’t help that all you could think of while spacing out while waiting for the train you took to arrive at its destination was the way Hongjoong’s eyes widened ever so slightly when you placed your hands atop of his by accident, as well as the way he’d flash you that toothy grin of his every single time you’d find yourselves staring into each other’s eyes.
No, it really didn’t help. Especially considering the fact that you don’t even know why the hell you were thinking of him when you were supposed to be upset because of your parents. It really, really didn’t help how thinking of him ended up painting a small smile on your face that was quick to disappear the moment you snapped back into reality.
Yet here you are now, mindlessly staring outside the window of your childhood bedroom, watching the sun slowly fall into a deep slumber as you wonder what Hongjoong could have possibly been doing by the other side of the world. Part of you regrets not taking the old book you borrowed from the library with you, but at the end of the day, you borrowed it to help your roommate forge a connection with her crush, and not with your own, for heaven’s sake. Wait, what?
And then it hits you—he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know you’re out of town and will continue to be for three more days. You wonder if he thinks of you as much as you do of him. You wonder if he’s out there, waiting for you. You wonder if he wonders what you’re doing right now as well. You wonder if he’s concerned about you.
“Oh, God, I can’t do this anymore,” you buried your face in your hands in frustration, sighing heavily as you parted your fingers to glance at your phone placed by your bedside table. Its screen, although pitch black, felt as if it was glaring directly at you, taunting you to take it and just say “screw it” and break your no-contact-during-vacation rule.
And you did, in fact, say, “Screw it.”
Quickly scrolling through your contacts, you wasted no time and immediately dialed your roommate’s number, the constant ringing of your phone echoing around the almost empty surroundings of your bedroom. Most of the things you left here before moving out have already been thrown out, it seems.
“Oh my God!” The screeching of your roommate from the other end of the line made you jolt in surprise, hissing as you felt your ears ring due to how loud her voice was. “Is this real?! I thought you said you wouldn’t call me until you’re back here! What happened?! Is something wrong?! Are you okay?! ARE YOU—”
“Calm down! Do you want me to go deaf or something?” Your voice was as calm as ever, a stark contrast to hers. “Did you really miss me that bad?” Chuckling, you await her response, which arrived faster than a millisecond.
“Did I miss you? Did I miss you? You have no idea how quiet it has been in here ever since you left! I have no one to annoy and it’s slowly driving me insane…” she let out an exasperated sigh, making you laugh. “I’ll be taking that as a yes, then.”
Your roommate clears her throat, going back to the topic at hand. “Seriously, though, why’d you suddenly decide to break your no-contact rule? Are you alright?” Concern was evident in her voice, and it almost made you tear up. You failed to realize just how much you missed her until now.
“I’m still breathing, that’s for sure,” you joked, laughing after hearing her groan as she said, “Now’s not the time for your jokes! Did something bad happen over there?”
“No, not really, but… well, you know, I’m not supposed to come back until Friday this week, but I really don’t think I can stay here for any longer. I’m all alone because my mother and her boyfriend are out on a vacation, and I haven’t had anyone to talk to for the past few months I’m not used to waking up because of my alarm and not because of your loud snoring, you know?”
Truthfully, you really did miss her. But even if you knew she was not the only reason behind you desperately wanting to leave your hometown, you figured you’d have to tell her all about it another time—just not now.
“I can’t tell whether you meant that as a compliment or an insult…” she sighed, making you erupt in a fit of laughter. Darkness was now starting to consume your surroundings, with the moon all up and about. Your bedside lamp is now the only source of light your bedroom has. “Do me a favor and take it as both?”
“Haha, yeah, real funny. I really hate you, you know.” You could tell from the tone of her voice alone that she was rolling her eyes, making you laugh once more—she seriously had to stop, or else you were certain you were gonna have to go to sleep with an aching stomach. “I don’t think you do, though…”
“You know me too well,” she sighed, faking an exhausted tone. “Is there anything you wanna tell me about? Like, you know, literally anything? I feel like all we’ve ever been talking about lately is mister linguistics class who is my man but is technically not my man but will, one day, become my man… come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever talked to me about any of your crushes—”
You could still hear her voice through the speaker of your phone, but the moment her words entered your ears, they were all muffled—you were, once again, adrift in a sea of your own thoughts. In a way, she was right about the part where you never talk to her about anything regarding your romantic affiliations—but that’s precisely because you don’t even have one in the first place, and you swore to yourself you’d keep things that way until you graduate.
But right now, as your thoughts drift back to Hongjoong yet again—something that seems to have been happening way too often for your liking at this point, you weren’t so sure anymore.
“—Oh, you do like someone!” Beaming happily, she squealed like a little child winning a plushie from a claw machine for the first time, pulling you back up to the surface of reality. Surprised, you stumbled over your words, “W-What?”
“You suddenly grew quiet when I started talking about relationships, you know.” I did?
“If I were to guess, I’d say there’s a certain someone who came to your mind the moment I mentioned the word “crush” and brought up how you’ve always been so secretive with your dating life.” You could visualize the teasing smile on her face as she spoke, and it made you feel flustered. She was right, but were you really going to tell her that?
“So, who is it? Can I make a few guesses? Promise me you’ll bring a basket of candies home for me if I get it right!” It wasn’t exactly like you were doubting her—it was more on the fact that you, yourself, weren’t even sure if you actually harbor feelings for the only person in your mind right now. If you were to think about it, wouldn’t it be too soon to say you do?
Maybe it was the way he seemed to have an eye meant for seeing everything around him as diamonds in the rough—an eye able to see the best even in those already proven to be the worst. Maybe it was the way he has no fear of expressing himself freely—maybe you just admired that trait of his and wished to have it as your own. Maybe it was the way he’s always eager to thoroughly get to know the details of everything he crosses paths with—the way he reread a book five times just to look for the foreshadowed parts may sound a little silly to be used as an example, but it serves its purpose.
You don’t really know much about him, except for the fact that he lives with seven people whom you could tell he adored so much, and that he liked to design his own clothes. So for a split second, you begin to debate whether you do like him or if you just admire him as a person.
But it wasn’t until you were reminded of the way you felt sparks ignite all over your veins when his fingers first brushed past yours that day in the bookstore, the way you stared at him a little longer than you should’ve when you saw him at the park, the way you had to hold yourself back from unconsciously leaning your head on his shoulder that day in the library—maybe the way you felt about Hongjoong was a whole book itself, and you’d also have to reread it a few times to catch everything you’ve overlooked in the long run.
You may not know him at all, but right now, one thing was crystal clear to you—you wanted to.
“Do you know the…” A little uncertain at first, you trailed off, not knowing whether you should continue or not. But then again, running away wouldn’t draw you any closer to your destination. “... Do you know anyone named Kim Hongjoong?”
Silence engulfed both of you for at least ten seconds at most, until it was broken by yet another squeal of hers. “Are you for real?! The Kim Hongjoong?! You like him?! Oh my God! Wait, now that I’m thinking about it, aren’t you two, like, polar opposites, at most?”
If only she knew.
“I guess…? Why?” You decided to play along with her for now, eager to hear what she has to say. “You two would totally be the cutest couple of the whole campus! I mean, come on, think about it! He’s a punk, and you do ballet! Well, technically, you don’t, but I trust you enough to rest assured you get the reference, so…”
“You think so?” Truth be told, you could perfectly visualize the message she was trying to deliver. Subconsciously, a smile soon began to creep up on your face over the thought of you and Hongjoong walking together, the stark contrast between your styles and the way you carried yourselves being heavily obvious.
“Oh, I know so! Wait, though—when, where, why, and how did this even start? I can’t believe you’re actually telling me about your dating life now!” She beamed, but you were quick to tone her down. “Now…? I don’t even have any experience within the dating field,” you said, bracing yourself from the scream that was yet to come from her.
“I’m sorry, what?!” Yeah, called it. “You heard it right. I wasn’t hiding anything from you—there were never any secrets to be hidden to begin with.”
“So Hongjoong is your first boyfriend—” “—I think we’re skipping a few chapters here,” you immediately cut her off, turning her assumptions down as fast as you could. “What do you mean?”
“Well… remember when you asked me to buy that one psychological thriller book from our local bookstore there?” You started, continuing after hearing a hum from the other line. “That was when I first met him. He was going to buy the same book as well, but we reached for it at the same time, and, I don’t know, we kinda… talked? And…”
You continued on, starting from when you first met him to when you last saw him. At this point, you could no longer even count the amount of times she had squealed over the phone.
“Wait, so you mean to tell me you didn’t even exchange contacts before you left the library? And he doesn’t know why you left?!” You could tell she was frustrated—and to be fair, so were you. “Well, if I did, we’d be talking to each other right now, wouldn’t we?” You sighed.
“So that means it’s been three months since you… wait, hold on… three months? Like, actually?” You have no idea why she was asking for confirmation all of a sudden, yet you let out a hum of approval anyway. “So that’s why he’s been… oh my God! If you don’t come back as soon as you can, I swear!”
“Huh? Why would I need to?”
“Hongjoong’s been visiting the library everyday for three months straight now! It’s, like, one of the many things our whole campus gossips about everyday! It all makes sense now…” What?
“What?”
“I’m telling you, you need to come back before it’s too late and he loses hope!” You couldn’t help but laugh at how she seemed to be more passionate about the topic at hand than you yourself, but in a way, she also had a point. There’s no guarantee he’d continue to wait for you until you’re finally allowed to leave your mother’s household.
And that was all you needed to hear for you to immediately hang up and rummage through the clothes you packed with you for your vacation—you could hardly even call it such, but whatever. You have no idea why you’re in such a rush, but for the first time ever, you opted for a casual look: a white shirt with an oversized pink hoodie with a half-done zipper on top of it, paired with shorts that weren’t even visible due to the hoodie’s length. You quickly slipped on a pair of white socks and wore your pink converse afterwards, having to re-do the shoelaces about three times due to messing it up over and over again because of how you were in such a rush.
You didn’t even have time to stand in front of your mirror to see what you looked like—your mind was set on coming back to you and your roommate’s apartment as soon as you could.
For a minute, you were stuck in a debate between following what you had to or what you wanted to. You knew for sure that dire consequences were to wait ahead of you if you were to follow the latter, but you could no longer find it in you to care. You had to follow your heart.
Sighing under your breath, you finally got yourself to twist the doorknob open, being met with the cold breeze of the night. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision to wear shorts, but it’s too late to reconsider things now, is it? Quickly locking the door with your keys in hand, you wasted no time in sprinting to the nearest train station, not wanting to waste the chance that laid itself upon you.
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“Mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa asked, hands on either side for support as he leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes boring directly into Hongjoong, who was standing across him, too busy spacing out that Seonghwa was certain he didn’t hear anything at all.
“What?” Hongjoong’s voice was a little slurred, and one could easily tell he lacks sleep. “I said, do you mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa enunciated his words so Hongjoong could hear him better, only for the said man to respond with a chuckle.
“You really gotta stop overanalyzing everything around you, Seonghwa.” Yet the aforementioned man wasn’t having any of it. He knew very well of Hongjoong’s tendencies to deny his own struggles—even to himself, always refusing to admit he’s going through something even though it’s already crystal clear. Of course, Seonghwa and the rest knew to respect his boundaries and not pry further, but the circles under Hongjoong’s eyes were starting to grow darker, and he just couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
“I’m not buying your excuses this time, Hongjoong. Clearly, you’re forcing yourself to go through something all alone again.” Seonghwa sighed, brows furrowed in concern as he took in Hongjoong’s appearance.
“What? Like it’s the first time I’ve ever done so?” Hongjoong chuckled, although it was easy for Seonghwa to tell he was forcing it upon himself. “You know you can’t keep everything to yourself forever, right? They’re all worried about you, and so am I. Look, you don’t have to tell me all the details, okay? Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“How on Earth am I supposed to feel when someone tells me ‘see you around’ but then they proceed to literally disappear right after those words come out of their mouth? Wouldn’t you be downing a dozen shots in one streak too?” From the way Hongjoong spoke, it was clear that he was beyond frustrated. His words came out slurred and raspy, and even Seonghwa himself was surprised he understood what Hongjoong said.
Brows furrowed in confusion, Seonghwa leaned forward from the counter, clearly not knowing what the hell Hongjoong was talking about. “Woah, woah, alright, calm down. Where’d all this even come from?”
“It’s been three months—three months, Seonghwa. Disappearing without a word is one thing, but not showing up for three months is just absurd, isn’t it?” Hongjoong groaned, running his hands through his hair. Still confused, Seonghwa attempted to ask for a little more context. “Who are you even talking about?”
“Her, Seonghwa. The girl whose name I could’ve gotten sooner, had those stupid goons not decided to burn our kitchen. The girl Kyungmin mistook for a princess.”
Oh.
Oh.
So it all makes sense now. It now makes sense that Hongjoong scolded the rest of them for almost burning their apartment way too harshly than he normally would have. It now makes sense why he caught Hongjoong staring at the girl from the park longer than any other person would have. It now makes sense that—does this mean what Seonghwa thinks it does?
Hongjoong likes someone? The Hongjoong, who swore he’d never allow himself to get into a relationship yet again after a bad falling out with one of his exes a few years ago? The Hongjoong, if anything?
“Can I take a wild guess and assume she’s the reason behind your daily library visits?” Seonghwa asked carefully, not wanting to hit a wounded spot by accident. Hongjoong only sighed, “I wish she wasn’t. Really, really wish she wasn’t.”
“Why? Do you like her?”
Does he like you?
At first, Hongjoong refused to accept the terms. He knew very well of his promise to himself not to fall for anyone again, tired of experiencing the same hardships that came along with it over and over again. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of you as often as he does. He knew he shouldn’t be letting you affect him in the simplest ways possible.
Yet here he was now.
“I tried to stop myself, you know. I really did. But I just—I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to forget about her just like that, even if she’s been gone for three months straight now and I don’t even know where she is.” Seonghwa could tell Hongjoong meant every word he said. It was still mildly surprising, but the words came out of his mouth so smoothly it was enough to tell Seonghwa he was really being genuine.
“I know I look stupid waiting like a dog in the library everyday, hoping I’d be met with her awkward smile when I turn my head towards the door whenever I hear it open, but I just—I can’t, you know? I can’t stop. Not when the last words we spoke to each other was about seeing each other around. I can’t help but wonder if I messed up unknowingly, somehow.”
Seonghwa’s gaze softened, stepping forward to gently caress Hongjoong’s shoulder in a comforting way. “Why not go on a midnight stroll? I think you really need one right now. I’ll make sure they won’t burn the kitchen again this time, okay?”
“You really know how to make me feel better, don’t you?” Hongjoong chuckled, looking upwards to prevent his tears from falling down. “I’m gonna need you to remember the fact that we’ve known each other since we were kids. Of course I’ll know that,” Seonghwa sarcastically said, although a smile was plastered on his face.
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At this point, you were certain your legs were about to give up before you could even reach your apartment. The train you took had a major malfunction in the long run, but you didn’t have it in you to wait for 30 minutes until the train would start working again, so you did the only thing you could—run. Okay, that was most likely not the correct solution, but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. You need to head home at least before 8:30AM tomorrow, since that’s usually when your mother would call you to ask how you, or rather, her house, is doing.
You stopped between your tracks to catch your breath, hands on your knees as your chest heaved with exhaustion. You decided to walk for at least a few minutes for now so you could regain enough energy to start running again later on, knowing there was absolutely no way you’d be able to keep on sprinting without passing out in the middle of it.
You were walking on an empty road, the dim lamp posts and the convenience stores from a distance being your only sources of light. As you were peacefully admiring your quiet surroundings, you spotted a coastline from a fair distance besides the road, only about a few steps away. As you drew closer to where the waves of the ocean met the sand, you saw a figure from afar sitting on a boulder all by themselves.
Except it wasn’t just a figure.
Your heart started racing, eyes widening in surprise as you focused your gaze on the person’s hair—you couldn’t have been mistaken. You know exactly who that split-dyed hair belongs to.
Before you even knew it, your feet had a life of its own, running towards where the figure was sitting even though your legs were literally about to give up after running for half an hour without stopping.
“Hongjoong?”
He turned around almost right after you called out his name, eyes all puffy and widened in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if he was trying to process the fact that you were standing right in front of him.
“It’s you.”
You no longer even cared if your actions were way too straightforward, immediately engulfing him in a warm, tight embrace as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Hongjoong—I’m sorry, I just…” Your voice came out as nothing but trembling whispers blending it with the midnight breeze.
For at least a few seconds, all he did was stand still, not an ounce of his body reacting to your touch. Afraid he might not have been comfortable with what you were doing, you were quick to take a step back, removing your face from his neck.
Yet just as you were about to release the grip you held around his body, he was quick to wrap his arms around yours, this time being the one to embrace you tightly. Hongjoong’s arms envelop you, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his breath—it’s an entirely new feeling, yet it felt soothing all the same, as if this was where you were always meant to be.
You let yourself let loose in his embrace, feeling the tension and worry of the past three months slowly melt away. You close your eyes, savoring the moment as you bury your face in his shoulder. The subtle scent of his cedarwood cologne that you missed so much mixed with the salty sea air lingers in your senses, making you feel grounded and safe.
His chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel him take a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to breathe you in and reassure himself that you’re really there. His embrace feels secure and protective, as though he’s shielding you from the heavy burdens of the world weighing upon you.
You notice his hesitation in the way his hands pause on your back, almost unsure of how to hold you at first. But eventually, after being allowed a little more seconds to familiarize himself with the feeling of your body resting against his, he started rubbing your back in soothing circles, making you feel lightheaded—as if all of your worries have slipped away with just a single touch.
He removes his chin from the top of your head, making you stare into his eyes with a teary gaze as he does so to yours as well. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about it beforehand, I…” you trailed off, words getting stuck in the middle of your throat after feeling Hongjoong cup your face with his hands, “... It all happened so fast, I… my mother needed me home right away, and I just couldn’t say no to her… I wish I could’ve told you beforehand, but she only told me why she needed me home when I was already there, so I couldn’t…”
Hongjoong’s gaze softens as he listens to your words. He gives you a small, understanding nod, but you can still see the hint of hurt in his eyes—his dark circles were so visible, even under the dim light of the moon. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking.
"I thought I might have done something wrong," he admits quietly, vulnerability evident with the way he spoke.. "I kept wondering if you were upset with me. It was... hard not knowing what happened.”
“When you left without a word, it felt like my world shifted,” Hongjoong begins. “We were in the library, and the last thing you said was you’ll see me around—but I didn't see you again. Not the next day, or the day after. I just kept going back, hoping you’d show up. It didn’t make sense—you were there, and then you were gone.”
“I started overthinking everything, replaying our conversations in my head. I wondered if I said something wrong or came on too strong, that maybe you didn’t want me to. I was scared that I might have scared you away somehow," he admits, and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly made your heart twist in pain.
“Hongjoong, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to leave you wondering if you ever did something wrong—I didn’t like what happened just as much as you do. I just… it’s complicated…” Truth be told, it really was.
Still, Hongjoong nodded with a faint smile on his face, reassuring you that he understands.“I know it wasn’t intentional,” he said, caressing your face with his thumb. “The nights were the hardest. I’d lie awake wondering if you hated me or if I had done something to upset you.”
You reach up to caress his face with your hands as well, staring at him with eyes that hold a swirl of emotions. “God, no, it never had anything to do with you… I’m so sorry for disappearing like that," you say softly, your voice filled with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "I wish I could have told you what was happening, but my mother... she wasn’t easy to deal with.”
As you hold Hongjoong close, you sense there’s more he wants to share, but he seems to be holding back, seemingly at war with his own emotions. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, encouraging him to express himself.
He lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of longing and frustration. “I’ve been trying so hard to sort out how I feel about all of this,” he begins slowly. “I’ve been at war with my own thoughts ever since you left. Trying to keep my feelings under control, trying to convince myself it was just a worry for a friend. But it just… doesn’t add up.”
He pauses, running a hand through his hair, his gaze on a far distance. “Every day, I would tell myself I could keep it together, but I kept thinking about you so much, it was starting to drive me insane,” he admits, although a little hesitantly. “I tried to keep it down to just concern, but it wasn’t enough. My mind kept circling back to you, wondering where you were, if you were okay.”
His eyes meet yours again, making your breath hitch. “I’d go to the library every day, hoping to see you, hoping to hear your voice again. It was maddening, not knowing if you’d come back or if I’d lost you completely,” he sighs, as his grip on the skin of your waist becomes a little tighter. “I just couldn’t shake it off,” he continues, his voice quieting down.
“You were on my mind all the time, and the more I tried to ignore it, the more frustrated I became. I tried so hard to deny it, but...” he pauses, taking a deep breath, as if he’s steeling himself for what comes next.
“Oh, screw it all,” he finally mutters, as if giving in to his own feelings. “I love you, and I don’t think I can hold it back any longer.”
“You… What?” Your eyes widened in surprise, struggling to process Hongjoong’s words. Hongjoong only smiled at you in return, repeating his words, “I said I love you. I really, really do.”
“Hongjoong,” you begin softly, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness. Hearing his name slip out of your mouth sent his nerves going haywire—oh, how he missed the sound of it.
“When I had to leave so suddenly, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It was so difficult not being able to explain what happened or tell you how much you mean to me.” You pause, trying to find the right words.
“You know, I… I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone in until I graduated," you confess, your voice being a little softer than it already was. “So when I first started catching feelings for you, I was in complete denial. I didn’t know how to handle it.” You look away for a moment, feeling embarrassed.
“It was a war with myself, one I never expected to fight," you continued. “I told myself it was just a phase, just a fleeting crush. I even thought maybe I was imagining things or confusing friendship with something more.”
You let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to hide the depth of your feelings. “I even tried to tell myself that you were just a good friend, that I was misinterpreting my own emotions,” you admit. “But the more I tried to distance myself from my feelings, the harder it became. My heart kept betraying me, reminding me how much I looked forward to seeing you again, how your smile could light up my whole day.”
Your tone grows quieter as you share your struggle. “I kept thinking, ‘This can’t be happening. Not now. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for anyone,’” you say, vividly remembering the battle with your own feelings you once faced. “But every time I thought of you, it became harder to deny it. My heart wouldn’t let me forget you, and it drove me insane. Eventually, I lost control, and…”
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to face the reality of your feelings. “Now that I’m standing here with you, hearing you pour your heart out, I just… I can’t deny it anymore,” you admit. “I’ve fallen for you, Hongjoong, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”
And that was all it took for him to inch his face closer to yours, intertwining your lips with his. The kiss was nothing short of pent-up tension being released, and you could feel every part of your body being set aflame.
His hands wrap themselves around your waist, its grip on your skin tightening every now and then. Your hand traces his jawline, soon finding itself tangled in his hair while the other one balls the fabric of his shirt into your first, feeling yourself get even more lost in the moment with each passing second.
As the kiss intensifies, there’s a sense of exploration, as if both of you are savoring the taste and feel of each other’s lips for the first time. Hongjoong’s hands slide up your back, one hand finding the nape of your neck, his touch gentle yet firm as if he was using every single fiber within his body to hold himself back, sending a shiver down your spine.
You mirror his movements, one hand now resting on his shoulder while the other presses against his back, wanting to be as close as possible. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you lost in the moment.
As your lips finally part, you both find yourselves gazing into each other’s eyes as if both of you believe the other hung up the stars in the sky. “You know,” Hongjoong began to speak. “As grateful as I am that you’re back here with me now… I can’t help but wonder where on Earth you came from...”
“Can we please save that discussion for another time?”
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🪞 — lividstar.
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alwritey-aphrodite · 26 days
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Okay imagine Dad!Peter rambling excitedly about teaching his baby cool science things, wanting to buy books and chemistry sets and robot kits, and you're just like "Pete.... She's two weeks old, I think you have a little time."
Ok this ended up slightly different but I hope you still like it!! Also I’ve become obsessed with Peter and Charlie May so please feel free to send in more requests for them!
There’s a rustling in the kitchen when you return from your afternoon walk with Charlie strapped to your chest, and for a moment you’re worried that the cat who likes to nap on your fire escape has somehow broken in, but then Peter comes rushing around the corner and your fears are quelled, only to be replaced by pure confusion. He looks out of breath, having slid on his socks to meet you by the door and apparently direct you away from the kitchen.
“What are you up to?” You ask, trying and failing to sneak a glance around Peter’s tall frame as you hand him your daughter to unstrap the carrier and slip off your shoes.
“Oh, you know, reorganizing the fridge,” he says with a little shrug, as if that’s a common thing for him to be doing. With Charlie safely held to his chest, you know there’s nothing he can do to stop you, so you rush around him and into the kitchen.
“Pete, seriously?” You ask as a laugh bubbles its way out of your chest, making Charlie giggle in that wonderful way that babies do, and you turn to face them with a grin. There are test tubes and astronomy sets and college-level textbooks spread out across the kitchen table, their packaging strewn across the floor. Peter has the sense to look a little sheepish, but his smile doesn’t dim at all as he bounces Charlie in his arms just to hear her laugh again.
Ever since you’d found out you were pregnant, Peter had gone a little overboard when it came to buying things. It started out with science themed pajamas and onesies and baby books, but then it developed into tools and kits and books that you’re not even sure you’d be able to understand. There’s an entire shelf in your hall closet dedicated to these purchases, because no matter how many times you laugh and delicately scold him, he can’t seem to stop.
“This is the second time this week!” You remind him, needing to lean back against the countertop to hold yourself up as your laughter becomes unstoppable. You’d like to at least pretend to be upset, but every time this happens, it just becomes funnier and funnier to you. Charlie just started teething, and here Peter is, buying her college textbooks and glassware. “There’s going to be no more room in the closet,” you squeak out between your laughs, you and Charlie stuck in an endless cycle where your giggles only serve to spur each other on.
“I promise I’ll stop,” Peter says as soon as your laughter is mostly under control, making his way across the kitchen to plant a kiss on your forehead, “but there’s another set of packages coming on Friday.” Taking your daughter from his arms, you grin up at him as Charlie settles against your chest.
“It’s going to be devastating when she wants nothing to do with science,” you tease, and as if she can perfectly understand what you’re saying, Charlie lets out another little laugh.
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inkareds · 7 months
Text
Homemade Dumplings Modern Aemond Targaryen
✧.* word count: 2.8k ✧.* genre: Modern domestic fluff ✧.* warnings: the reader is coded to be Chinese/grew up in Chinese culture
Aemond Targaryen grew up filthy rich, which means he didn't have to worry about doing any of the menial day-to-day stuff you seem to like so much. That includes cooking and buying groceries.
Short A/n before you start, the reader is coded to be Chinese by ethnicity (and they can lightly speak it lmao), their nationality isn’t necessary nor is it mentioned in the story. Despite this, it isn’t a big part of the story which means that anyone can read it, just ignore a small amount of the dialogue. 
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“Where are you off to this early in the morning?” Aemond poked his head out of the bathroom when he heard you shuffling in the bedroom. 
Your head perked up at his voice before going back to packing your bag for a trip to the market. 
“Just heading out to the farmer’s market downtown, I need to buy some chives, spices, and baby bok choy from the old Chinese ladies there. They have the freshest Chinese vegs and they always run out if I’m not there early.” 
Aemond quirked his brows a little bit at your statement, he was used to being the early riser in your relationship. Sometimes he even woke up before the sun rose to go for a jog or go to the gym. But here you were now, awake and dressed, ready to go while he had just finished his shower after his morning workout. 
“Did you have breakfast already?” He queried.
“Yep, I woke up not long after you left. I wanted to make some dumplings so I need to buy some ingredients.”
“Hm,” he hummed in response. “May I join you?” 
“Of course, you don’t even have to ask, baby.” You stated before going over to him and pecking him lighting on his cheek. 
Aemond’s stomach fluttered at that, weirdly still getting giddy at the prospect of being with you. He quickly dressed himself and off the two of you went to the farmer’s market. 
When the two of you got there, Aemond mostly followed you around. You would’ve laughed at how adorable he looked, with long platinum hair in a bun, looking very casual in just a t-shirt and sweats. But you were too busy trying to look at every bunch of chive and baby bok choys to find which ones are the best. 
Your eyes observed the array of Chinese vegetables in front of you. Aemond watched as you picked one up and rotated it in your hand, your face twisting in your focus, all before putting it back down with a slight shake of your head. He watched you repeat this a few more times before finding the bok choy you like and putting it in your basket. 
“How can you tell which one to take?” He asked chuckling slightly, he thought it was kind of entertaining that it took you this long to find a vegetable you liked. 
You perked up before picking up one bundle of bok choys. 
“You see this one?” He nodded, “There are slightly yellow and brown splotches on the stem, it means it’s past its prime.” You pointed it out. 
“And this one,” you picked another one up, “The green leaves don’t look as fresh, there’s some holes here and there, not to mention it’s slightly floppy. When you’re looking for bok choy you want the stem to be white and the leaves to be stiff and fresh. You’ll get the one with the longest shelf life that way.” 
Aemond surprisingly nodded along, not realising that there was this much thought to be put into vegetables. You lightly laughed at his furrowed brows as he looked at the difference between the bunches of bok choys in front of the two of you. 
You had prompted Aemond to pick a few more bok choys, the first few he picked you pointed out the slight blemishes in the leaves. But by the third one, he picked a good and fresh-looking one, causing a bright smile to appear on your face. 
Aemond had grown up spoiled, well, that might be understating it. He grew up filthy rich and he still is, meaning he didn’t have to worry about picking the freshest produce or cooking his food. But now that he lived with you, he found that he quite enjoyed learning new and domestic things with you. Things that you learnt through your upbringing. 
On the other hand, you quite enjoyed teaching him. Aemond put a lot of work into learning new things and he stubbornly wanted to be good at the things he put his mind to do. So, everything came almost naturally to him. Even the smallest things like finding the best veggies, something you had to learn through the light scolding of your mother when you were a child every time you’d pick a ‘bad’ one. 
Once you’ve paid the kind old man for your bok choys, the two of you moved on to a cart filled with fresh spices. 
The market was slowly getting busier, which made you realise you should move through the area quicker. As you still had baby bok choys, chives, and homemade dumpling skin to buy. And to be quite frank, the crowd was getting annoying. So, you grabbed onto Aemond’s hand and started practically dragging him along the market to get what you needed. 
When you finally got to the cart with the dumpling skin, Aemond’s heart swelled at the sight of your face brightening at the realisation that the old lady running the cart hadn’t sold out on all her homemade dumpling skin yet. He watched as you adorably conversed with the grandma before asking for two packs of dumpling skin. 
“两个,” You told the woman before she nodded with a smile and handed you a bag with two packets of her homemade dumpling skins, “谢谢!” 
When you turned to face Aemond he had quite the unreadable expression. 
“What? You think you’re the only one who can speak another language? Sorry I don’t think Valyrian is very useful here.” You chuckled nudging him slightly. 
Aemond only smiled and leaned to lightly kiss your forehead before the two of you finally escaped the crowd and went back home. Aemond helped set down the ingredients as you made your way to the kitchen and prep your working space. 
Once you’ve placed down your cutting board and bowls, you quickly make your way to wash all the vegetables you bought and start cutting up the bunches of chives. 
Aemond, watching from a slight distance, couldn’t help himself but tease you. He walked over towards you, your back facing him, and embraced you from behind. Letting his fingers dance around your abdomen as he pushed his chest onto your back. He watched as a grin replaced your focused expression while you stopped your cutting and leaned back into his embrace. 
The two of you relished in the morning domesticity for a little bit longer. The sun that spilt into the room like pools of gold warmed the space. The air was light and Aemond didn’t think his life could get any better than this. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this at peace. All of it thanks to you. 
“Wanna help?” You hummed, breaking the comfortable silence. 
He hummed in acknowledgement, giving your body one last squeeze before going to wash his hands. 
When he returned you’d already finished cutting up your chives and placed all of them in a large metal bowl. 
“Okay, so right now I’m just cutting all the stuff for the dumpling filling, if you want you can cut up the baby bok choys, I’ve already washed how much I’ll need in that bowl over there. While I prep the minced meat.” You pointed it out and Aemond nodded. 
The two of you worked in silence together, you had already placed the frozen minced beef in the fridge right after you woke up so that it would defrost. So all you had to do was open the containers up and mix them in with the chives, all the while Aemond worked very quickly on cutting the baby bok choys. 
A couple of months ago you would’ve had to keep looking over your shoulder if Aemond was helping you cook. When the two of you first moved in together, he barely knew the basics of cooking. You took it upon yourself to help teach him as he always loved watching you work and he seemed genuinely interested in cooking. 
Unbeknownst to you, Aemond only had the urge to learn how to cook after an offhanded comment you made after he asked you why you liked cooking so much. With a smile on your face, you said, 
“My family used to say that the kitchen is the heart and soul of a home and food isn’t just for sustenance but for your soul. Good food means a happy soul.” 
He saw the way you laboured to make good food, even when you were exhausted from the day. You’d still make time into your busy schedule to make something, even if it was something extremely easy and simple. The fact that you put that amount of time and effort into something you could just easily buy made the difference for him. 
He wanted to share that love with you. 
At first, he was rather clumsy in the kitchen. There were a lot of things that you learned through experience and watching the people around you cook, so you found it difficult to explain why you were doing certain things. But, as always, Aemond quickly got the hang of it. 
“Something on my face?” Aemond’s voice cut you off from your daydreams, not realising you had been staring at him for a good minute now, you only shook your head and smiled. 
“Just-” You quickly went to wash your hand so you didn’t touch his face after you touched raw meat. “Your hair’s in the way.” You reached to brush a strand of his white hair behind his ear. 
A soft smile crept onto his face when your fingertips brushed against his cheek. Before you pulled your hand away he dropped the knife on the cutting board and reached to grab your hand, placing it on his cheek as he leaned into your touch. Your expression quickly matched his, lovesick smiles blooming on both your faces as your fingers lightly grazed his scar. 
He hummed in appreciation of your gentle touch then turned slightly and kissed the palm of your hand. A moment later he let go of your hand and turned his attention back onto the dumpling filling. 
“What next?” 
You picked up the cutting board and poured the contents into the metal bowl. 
“Well, all we need to do is just mix this up, season it, and then fold it into the dumpling skins. We can do that last part together.” You explained. 
Aemond watched intently as you mixed up the ingredients and poured in your spices and seasonings not even bothering to measure it. That was one thing he knew he couldn’t ‘learn’ from you. How to season without using measurements, was just one of those things you learned through experience and then intuition. 
Once you’ve mixed everything up, you handed him a spoon and brought out the two packets of dumpling skins along with some large plates. 
“First you wet the edges of the skin with some water, then you pick a chunk of the filling with the spoon and place it in the middle of the skin, then,” you showed in front of him, “You kind of fold the edges together. It takes a lot of practice and sometimes I still mess up so don’t worry about it. If it gets too sticky then grab some of the flour or starch to dry the water.”
You instructed and watched Aemond try to copy what you were doing. Much to your dismay, Aemond actually did it perfectly the first time he tried. 
“Takes a lot of practice huh?” He asked almost smugly causing you lightly swat his arm. 
“Oh fuck off!” 
A loud laugh left him at your little tantrum as he picked up another dumpling skin to make more. 
As time slowly ticked away, the two of you quickly fell into a very comfortable focused silence. And funny enough, Aemond suddenly found it difficult to fold the dumplings as perfectly as he did the first time. On one he had put too much filling, making it difficult, on another one he had put too little making it easy to fold but clearly not going to be very tasty. 
From the corner of your eyes, you could see Aemond slowly start to struggle and it took every single drop of kindness in your heart not to rub it in his face after all the annoyance you felt when he made that first one so perfectly. 
Finishing up with the one in your hand, you placed the dumpling on a plate and went over towards him to help. Though he had bigger hands than you, you couldn’t help but do the most cliche thing you could think of at that moment. 
You placed your own hands on top of his own and started motioning his fingers to fold the dumplings the way it was supposed to. 
“The trick is to not overthink it, when you overthink it you put too much pressure on the skin and it breaks or flattens. Making it harder for you to make consistent folds.”
Once you let go of his hands he was able to finish the dumpling he was holding perfectly. 
“See, easy, also I knew you had beginner’s luck on that first one.” You couldn’t help but tease him, causing him to pick up some of the filling on his finger and smear it onto your nose. 
Your eyes widen, “You traitor! After I taught you how to cook?!” You lunged at him with your hands messy with starch, reaching to smear his face with your hand. 
Aemond laughed as he dodged you. Laughter filled the room as the two of you tried to smear each other with flour, that is until you stopped trying to dodge Aemond and simply lunged towards him to embrace him. 
With so much flour on your own hands and clothes, all of it was effectively transferred onto his black clothing. 
“You’re terrible.” Aemond muttered chuckling slightly. 
“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t start it.” You spoke into his chest. “Plus, you love me.” 
Aemond relenting to the fact that the two of you were now dirty with flour and starch hugged you back. 
“I do,” he hummed, one of his starch-laden hands reaching to your chin. Gently angling it so he could kiss them, “I really do love you.” 
You smiled staring into his eye, relishing in the warmth that bloomed between the two of you. That was before he started laughing. 
“What is it?!” You asked perplexed. 
“You have just a little-” he wiped a part of your cheek.
“Urgh,” you rolled your eyes before pulling away from him, now actually realising how messy the both of you were.
Somehow though, the kitchen itself wasn’t as layered with flour as the two of you were. Thankfully so. 
“Let’s just finish this up and we can shower?” Aemond suggested and you agreed. 
The two of you finished the last of the filling and skins whilst laughing and joking around. Annoyingly, Aemond finally got the hang of folding the dumplings and made perfect-looking ones every time. Though he did make it slower than you. Something you’re sure you’re not going to be able to tease him about the next time you make dumplings again. 
“Why are you making so many anyways? It takes up all the freezer space.” Aemond asked as you placed the plates in the freezer, effectively taking up almost every part of it with the copious amounts of dumplings you made. 
“It’s always good to have frozen dumplings in the freezer so that you can eat it whenever you want. If I put them all in a container right now they’re going to stick together, the trick is to put them in the freezer for half and hour before combining them into one container.” You explained as he nodded. 
Once the last of it was placed inside you both sighed in content and began cleaning up the space. Once that was done, the two of you sort of stood in silence, happy at all that you managed to do this early in the morning. That is until you turned to Aemond and had to stifle a peal of laughter and how ridiculous he looked. 
“Come on lover boy, let’s shower. You look like you just killed a ghost.” 
His black clothes were covered in flour and smeared with some filling here and there, he looked ridiculous. But as Aemond followed you to the bathroom to shower together, he didn’t think he minded getting all messy again if it meant he could hear you laugh so easily again as you cooked. 
When he was growing up he didn’t think the peace of domesticity fitted him very well. Especially with how turbulent his childhood was. But now, being here with you, he realised just how much he loved it when he was with you. 
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helios-writings · 5 months
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There are some days when Shanks feels bad about not being able to give you the life he thinks you deserve. Days where you and he barely see each other because the pair of you are working overtime. Days where the two of you sit at the table, stressed about what bills you can cover and what you’ll have to live without.
Others days, he knows, are better. Curled up in each others arms on your days off, the smell of breakfast cooking even though its two in the afternoon. Still, he’d always dreamed about giving you a life of luxury, about spoiling you and making sure you didn’t have to work another shitty job if you didn’t want to. He’s not quite there yet, but he hopes one day he will be.
The two of you are walking hand in hand through the richer shopping district, windowshopping in all the pricier stores that give him hives just thinking about stopping in, but he loves the way you smile as you envision how you would decorate the foyer of your fictional mansion with a giant gold and crystal chandelier.
He laughs, not at you, but at the absurdity of it. “What would we need with something like that, huh?”
You shrug. “Sometimes things are just nice to have.”
He’d buy you a million of those ugly things if it meant making you happy.
Instead, Shanks points to something else. “And where would you put this?”
“Our living room, right next to the giant comfy couch, so I can admire it while I sit next to you.”
The two of you carry on like this, until you find a cozy old antique shop buried inbetween two high end boutiques.
“Lets go in here.” He tells you, stopping you with a gentle tug on your hand.
“Antiques? I didn’t know you liked old stuff like that.”
“I had a crush on our high school math teacher, didn’t I?”
You roll your eyes. “And yet, you’re here with me.”
He elbows you playfully in the side. “Well, she couldn’t compare to you.”
You just laugh and head inside the store.
The inside smells like dust and the culmination of other peoples belongings, but he’s drawn to the jewelry shelf towards the entrance, whilst you wander off by yourself down one of the countless aisles. The shelf holds many pieces of jewelry, but what catches his eye is a pair of wedding rings, obviously on the older side, but the feeling hits him so fast, it feels like his heart has fallen to his feet.
Shanks had never thought about proposing to you. Not in a “terrified of marriage” way, but to him you already were. But, standing in that store, the need had never been more apparent, and the rings were within his budget. It felt like a sign from on high, even if you were the one who believed in signs like that.
You both left the store half an hour later, his wallet a bit lighter, but pocket heavier.
You make dinner that night, something simple, but delicious and Shanks, never one to second guess himself, jumps right in.
“I want to marry you.”
Your eyes widen as you nearly spit out your drink. “Wh-“
He pulls the rings out and continues. “I know you didn’t dream about living in a one bedroom apartment with shitty heating and cooling, and that you deserve better than I can give you, but I promise you that you’ll have it one day. Whatever you want, a big house, dogs or cats, a huge ugly gold and crystal chandelier in the foyer. I want to give that all to you.”
You take his hand in yours. “Shanks, baby, we may not live the life you think we deserve, but I live the life I want with you every day. I don’t care about any of that stuff, not really. So what if our heating breaks in the middle of winter? So what if I can’t have a big yard or house? I’d rather have you.”
He feels his eyes get a little misty and he turns away. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be crying here.”
You roll your eyes and slip one of the rings on. “I’ll marry you.”
He kisses you deep, a grin on his face that won’t go away no matter how hard he tries.
The wedding takes place in a court house, costing no more than 120 dollars and the two of you wearing the nicest clothes you can afford, but its perfect and neither of you would dream of anything else, not when you have each other. This is the life you deserve, and he can give it to you after all.
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yeonzzzn · 7 months
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💫why do you care?: sim jaeyun
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.5k
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synopsis: a night out with a stranger to get revenge just might be what you need…
genre: strangers to lovers, bar/club!au
warnings: swearing, cheating partner, revenge, some spice ♡
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You already knew walking into the bar doors how flushed your face looked. The red of anger, the sadness in your eyes showing on full display. You never had a good poker face, after all. 
Make a b-line for the nearest stool at the bar counter, dropping yourself into the seat, face in the palms of your hands. 
“May I get you anything, miss?” the bartender asked with the ‘I cannot wait to get out of here tone’ in his voice. 
You nodded, “Just a glass of water, please, and thank you.” 
The shuffling of the bartender's feet left, but then quickly returned minutes later, hearing the sound of glass being set on the counter in front of you. 
You perked up your head, ready to get that good ole H2O into your system, but your already frown became worse. 
Not only did the glass of water set in front of you, but there was also a small shot glass. 
You raised a brow at the bartender, “I didn’t order this.” 
With a sigh and roll of the eyes, he pointed to your left, “That gentleman over there did.” 
With a glance to your left, you see who the tender was pointing at. The man sat four chairs down from you, his black hair parted neatly. His black blazer suit jacket complemented his black tank top underneath. Tiffany and Co. jewelry on his fingers and wrist. The man looked expensive.
He raised his glass of alcohol to his lips, not even acknowledging the bartender or you. 
You were already angry enough, this man made it worse. 
“Hey!” you called out to him, his eyes slowly shifting to you, his glass not leaving his lips. “If this is your way of hitting on me, thanks but no thanks, take it back.” 
He raised his brows in surprise, setting his glass down.
“Wow, alright,” his thick Australian accent huffed, “how ungrateful.”
His words pushed your buttons harder, “I don’t need to be hit on right now, so keep your drinks to yourself.”
He scoffed, turning his body fully towards you, slightly leaning forward, “Darlin, I don’t give two shits about hitting on you, I’m not even interested really. You walked in and I noticed you didn't look well, all I did was buy you a shot since you looked like you needed it. That’s it.” 
The agreement left you, your face, and your body relaxing. You realized his acts of kindness and took it for another. 
“I apologize,” you broke eye contact with his coco eyes, “It’s been a very rough night.” 
The Australian man sighed and stood up from his, planting himself in the chair right next to you. 
“We are gonna need more shots.” He said to the tender, and with a nod, the tender pulled a bottle off the shelf and rolled out more tiny glasses.
“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion. 
“I figured if you’re going to tell me what’s up, then we are going to need more alcohol in our systems.” 
You chuckled, “Why do you care?” 
He smiled, “I don’t really, but you need someone and I’m here.” 
You dropped your head in your palm, studying his face. Now that he was inches away from you, you noticed how beautiful he was. The gods literally sculpted his jawline and his eyes were breathtaking. 
“Now,” he started, handing you a shot and taking one for himself, “we shall introduce ourselves and then I’ll listen to your story.” 
You clanked the glasses together and took down the liquor. 
“I’m Jake.”
You nodded, “Y/N.” 
“Well, Y/N,” he softly said, “tell me this story.”
It surprised you how quickly you opened up to Jake. How comfortable you feel telling this stranger that you’ve been suspicious of your boyfriend cheating on you. How you figured out not even an hour ago that he actually was, and how you followed him to a club and saw everything folded out in front of you. The way your boyfriend was holding onto the other woman, the way he kissed her. How you stormed out of the club and ran as fast as you could until you reached this bar and sat down. 
“Wow, he sounds like a dick,” Jake said jokingly. 
You took another shot down, “no he actually really is.” 
Jake tapped his fingers against the counter, “I’m sorry Y/N, you don’t deserve that.” 
You shook your head, “two years down the drain for whoever she is,” you sighed, “guess I wasn’t enough.” 
Jake perked up at those words, leaning closer to you, “No, stop that.” 
You glanced over at him, “what?”
Jake tucked his lip between his teeth, shaking his head, “Don’t ever say you aren’t enough just because some asshole treats you like shit.” 
With a shrug of your shoulders and another shot down you replied, “So what do I do then?” 
The corner of his lips slid up, “want to get some revenge?” 
~~~
Your hands trembled as you stood behind Jake. Your heart pounding against your rib cage ready to tear through your skin at any moment. 
“Jake, I don’t think this is a good idea.” 
He gave you a smile as he popped open the trunk of his car, revealing the metal baseball bat, tire wrench, and spray paint cans you both just bought from the store. 
“Don’t get cold feet now darlin, you liked this idea ten minutes ago.”
“Well yeah,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your heart from bursting out, “that was before I let you drive me to the nearest store to buy said items and come back to the club my boyfriend is grinding another woman up at.” 
Jake handed your the bag of spray paint, taking the bat and tire wrench in his other hand, and closed the trunk, “And that’s exactly why we are doing this, because of the fact that YOU should be the woman he’s grinding his dick on inside that club, not someone else.” 
You bit your bottom lip, your brain telling you this wasn’t a good idea…but your heart wants nothing more than to make your boyfriend suffer how he’s made you suffer. 
You nodded, “his car is this way.” Jake smirked as he followed behind you. 
The music of the club was loud enough to drown out the sound of metal against metal. The sound of Jake kicking your boyfriend’s headlights, the glass falling to the gravel. 
The words cheater painted across the side of the car by your hands. 
You took the bat and broke the driver-side window, unlocked the door, and climbed inside. 
“Jake, do you have a knife?” 
Jake leaned his body into the car beside you, “What are you thinking love?” 
“I’m going to carve my name into these expensive leather seats of his.” 
Jake chuckled, “damn you’re so sexy right now.” 
He pulled out a small pocket knife, handing it over to you. 
You don’t know where this boost of confidence came from, but you knew it had to do with Jake. 
He was bringing out the rebel inside you, the girl who wanted to scream and fight back but never did. 
He brought that girl out tonight. 
“How does it look?” You asked him, showing how beautiful your name looked in the tan leather. 
“Belongs in a museum.” 
“Doesn’t it?” 
You climbed out of the car, taking a few steps back to look at the damage you both have done. 
The emotions you felt just seconds ago vanished. You thought the sight of your boyfriend's damaged car would excite you. Make all your problems go away. But it didn’t. 
Jake noticed it too. 
“I have another idea of revenge.”
~~~
You followed Jake inside the club, the music blasting against your eardrums. Every beat shakes your bones. 
“What’s the plan now, Jake?” you asked tugging on the hem of your crop top, “I am not dressed properly for a club.” 
Jake turned and faced you, slipping off his blazer jacket, revealing his muscled arms, the black tank top definitely complemented his body in every way possible now. He dropped the blazer on the table next to you. 
“Y/N, you’re sexy as fuck.”
You raised a brow at him, “I’m literally in a white tank, leggings, and my Nikes.” 
He took your hand in his, “and it’s the hottest combination that only you can pull off, and trust me I’ve seen many try to pull it off. You’re sexy and we are going to enjoy dancing at this club to make your man jealous, now follow my lead.” 
No hesitation, you walked with him to the dance floor, passing through the bodies of everyone else who was having a great time. 
“Point out the dickhead.” Jake asked, pulling you to his side, and wrapping his arm around your waist. 
You glanced around the dance room, one by one trying to pick him out, until you finally did. 
His new girl was wrapped around him. His hands on her hips with her face in his neck. 
You were fuming, your blood boiled inside you. 
You heard Jake scoff, “he even looks like a dick.”
Nodding, you slowly looked away from your boyfriend and at the floor. 
Jake pulled you closer, your body touching. 
His hand rested on your chin, pulling you to look up at him. 
“He noticed us,” Jake spoke with excitement in his voice, “remember when I said follow my lead?” 
You nodded, “Yes, obviously Jake”. 
He smirked, “You can dance, ya?”
Another nod. 
“Good.” 
Jake left no room between the two of you, his hands went to your hips, moving them to the beat of the song, in perfect rhythm with his own movements. 
Your body burned from Jake’s touch and the way his hands felt on you. The way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony. Hips grinding together. 
You tangled your hands in his jet-black hair, resting your forehead against his, his breath sending chills down your spine with every touch to your skin. 
“Fuck you’re so sexy,” Jake smirked, inching his lips closer to yours, barely brushing together. 
You glanced over at your boyfriend, seeing the anger and ugly jealousy playing on his face. It fueled you even more to continue. 
“Kiss me,” you brushed against his lips, “I need you to kiss me.” 
Jake chuckled and glanced over to your boyfriend, “I’m going to do more than just kiss you.” 
Before you could ask, Jake connected his lips to yours. 
His hands grasped your ass, squeezing the fat tightly. 
Your breath hitched, his touch sending vibrations throughout your body. Each kiss deepened. 
His tongue touched your bottom lip, requesting for entrance. 
You opened your mouth just wide enough for his tongue to slide through, twisting around in a perfect dance with yours. 
Jake pulled away, hands back on your hips and twisting you around. 
Your back slammed against his chest. Hands back on your hips. 
“Follow my movements,” Jake whispered in your ear, his voice sent chills down you, turning you on even more. 
He slid his hand up your arm, lifting it to wrap around his neck, his other hand pulling you even closer to him, his hard-on against your ass. 
You tucked your lip between your teeth, slowly grinding yourself against his length. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” Jake softly moaned in your ear, “you’re making this very difficult love.” 
You smirked at the feeling of his length hardening even more, “making what so difficult Jake?” 
He nibbled on your ear, “wanting you.” 
The dance continued, your bodies grinding against each other. Jake’s hands feel up every inch of your body. 
Neither of you broke eye contact with your boyfriend, watching as he slowly got angrier by the minute. 
Jake grilled onto your hips, slowly trailing his hands up your torso, stopping just below your breasts, slowly sliding his thumbs over them, barely grazing your nipples. 
Your breath hitched at his touch, mouth slowly opened ajar. 
And that was the last straw your boyfriend could take, leaving his new girl behind,  marching his way over to you. 
“Oops, guess I pissed him off.” Jake snickered. 
The closer your bf got, the more red in the face he became. 
“Hey!” he shouted. 
Jake pulled you behind him, “Hey!” he shouted back. 
“Who the fuck are you?!” your bf said standing a few feet away. 
“Depends on the day.” Jake shrugged. 
“You think you can just dick down my girlfriend like that?!” 
“I dunno mate,” Jake clicked his tongue, “think you can just cheat on your girl and expect her to not find out?” 
Your bf stood there quiet, his eyes darting between you and Jake. 
“Y/N, come here right now.” He said, snapping his fingers at his side. 
Jake raised a brow, chuckling as his tongue slid against his upper lip, “Nah mate, you’re fucking stupid if you think I’m going to let her go.” 
Seeing the way Jake was standing up for you turned you on. Knowing that this is the way you deserve to be treated. You deserved the kindness Jake has shown you tonight. You deserved the way he couldn’t take his eyes and hands off you while you danced. You deserved to be kissed the way Jake kissed you every single day. 
You deserved Jake. 
Your bf shot daggers into Jake, but enough was enough.  
“It’s over.” You shouted, peaking around Jake, “I’m done with you. Go back to your whore, we are done.” 
Your now ex clicked his tongue, shaking his head, “whatever.” 
As he turned to leave, Jake had one last comment, “Also a nice car mate, really loved the detailed work.” 
He stopped moving, you and Jake both noticing how it finally clicked in his head. 
Jake grabbed your hand, quickly pushing past people dragging you behind him until exiting the back door of the club. 
You didn’t stop running there. Jake led you back to his car, “get in quickly!” 
As Jake was pulling out of the parking lot, you saw your ex running out of the club to see the damage done to his car. You both couldn’t stop laughing.
Jake offered to drive you to your apartment, it was three in the morning and he didn’t want you to have to take a cab back home so late. 
The car came to a stop once outside your apartment building. 
“Thank you for tonight, Jake,” you said making eye contact with him. 
He softly smiled back at you, “It was no problem at all.”
You weren’t ready to leave him, weren’t prepared to let him go. You debated on inviting him inside, but not wanting to look so desperate. You’ve only been single for about an hour anyway. 
“What is it love?” Jake asked concern showing on his face. 
“Will I ever see you again?” you softly spoke. 
But to your surprise, he started laughing. 
“What is so funny?” you asked, shoving his shoulder. 
Jake took your hand in his, “Why do you care?” 
You sighed, giving him a glare, “a nice way of turning the tables.” 
“I know, thank you.” he smiled brightly, showing his perfect white teeth with it. 
“Anyways, will I ever see you again?” you asked once again. 
Jake turned the car off, preparing himself to get out. 
“I don’t want to leave you yet,” he reached over and cupped your face between his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips, “and I most definitely want to see you again.” 
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cybiirz · 7 months
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ೃ⁀➷ THE FACADE OF A PUPPETEER
Wriothesley x Fem!reader
Sypnosis : Many moons ago, you were sent to the Fortress Of Meropide for a number of crimes, ones that even criminals would name you evil for. However, even with your already busted up reputation upon entry, in a few short years, you had managed to become one of the most respected prisoners in the Fortress. Your ways were unquestioned by others, but not by the Warden himself. That is what caused you to be stuck having a tea party with the man. Although his attempt at fishing the information out of you seemed unsuccessful at first, it seems you were becoming excited to see where this would lead. But maybe there was also another operation happening, one where your true self would have to finally be revealed.
WC : 1.7K
WARNINGS : Mentions of murder, Wriothesley might be a little ooc idk, reader is manipulative, not rlly much else
A prison warden such as himself would typically be considered strict, would he not? Well, he went against those expectations, mostly. He was surprisingly a kind soul compared to many of the other guards considering the fact that he actually cared for the prisoners well being.
But there was one inmate who just constantly got under his skin. You. In all fairness, you were actually quite the intelligent woman. In the few years you had been pretty much living here, you had already managed to gain many others' trust.
That didn’t mean you were kind though, all inmates had a side of theirs with some evil intent, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. The way you had climbed the ranks seemed to be legit on the outside, but Wriothesley had become curious and did some digging of his own.
And lo and behold, the sweet lady who was too kind for her own good was one of the most deceitful people he’s ever heard of. Gaining coupons by simple pick pocketing wasn’t unheard of, but he had learnt that you were too advanced to participate in such a measly method.
No, instead you would manage to get your hands on other’s coupons through secret events. Small competitions were held that were supposedly led by different people each time. But there was always a mastermind behind the puppet. That mastermind was unknown to the public.
Every person who hosted said competitions seemed to have no links towards each other whatsoever. What no one else knew however was that they all led back to one person, and that person would be in charge of the coupons gained. It was almost like gambling, stupid people would bet their coupons and would either win or lose.
But you were not one to rig such games, goodness no. That would be diabolical. All you had was lady luck by your side. But Wriothesley didn’t buy it, for he had figured out that you practically ran the prison without people being aware. The amount of coupons had earned you respect and power, the two things that could easily become others' downfall.
Which is why he was surprised you hadn’t fallen just yet. The warden had become increasingly suspicious of your activities and would always be on the watch for you. But no matter how hard he tried, your facade of being this gentle soul was always up and about. He had to catch you some other way. Which is how you ended up here.
“Good evening, your Grace. Is this an urgent matter, because I highly doubt you would call someone into your office for a small debuckle,” You questioned the man as you finally stepped onto the floor of his office. Wriothesley sat there with one elbow propped on the arm of the chair and the other flat against the opposite arm.
“No no, nothing you need to be too worried about. Come, take a seat,” He gestured towards the chair in front of him as he stood up and made his way over to the shelf. “May I interest you in some tea?” He asked, his back facing you.
“I’ll pass unfortunately, I recently ate something from the cafeteria so i’m quite full up myself,” You politely declined his offer before taking a seat onto the cushioned stool. You crossed one leg over the other as you placed both hands into your lap.
“Suit yourself. Now, I don’t mean to waste your time here, but I would like to give you some…praise,” He commented as he began to heat up a kettle and grab a tea cup from the shelf. You raised an eyebrow.
“May I ask what for? I do not recall doing something explicitly amazing,” You replied in honest confusion. You heard him let out a chuckle as he poured the hot water into the cup and placed the bag into the liquid.
“Yes I suppose you’re right. What you have done isn’t explicit to anyone else. And it is rather impressive how fast you have managed to gain coupons here,” He took a seat, now sitting opposite you as he spread his legs to get comfier into the chair. Surprisingly, it was weirdly attractive.
“Ah yes, I consider myself astronomically lucky with the amount of coupons I have gained so far. Not to mention the friends I made along the way,” Your response was confident and bright. Just the behaviour he expected.
“Mhm, most people would call it luck as well. However, based on my observation, I would call it something different,” His eyes bore into yours as the two of you made direct eye contact.
“Oh? And what would you call it sir?” You asked in a low tone. The two of you were both aware that he was onto you, but playing along wouldn’t hurt you.
“Pure strategy. From the moment you stepped onto these grounds, you had a plan in mind. One that would immediately raise you to be a respected person which I admire. My only question is, what are the chances you could give me every step of that plan right here and now?” This caused you to become slightly bewildered. He wanted to know your plan?
“And what exactly would that gain you?” You replied. He let out another short laugh before leaning forward slightly.
“It doesn’t need to gain me anything. All I want to know about is the brain behind that beauty of yours,” His remark was shamelessly flirtatious.
“Do you believe that simple flattery will get you anywhere, warden? Do not forget, you are also a prisoner here, all you have earned is the privilege to this fortress’s budget and management. I do not think you deserve my plans. Now if you will excuse me, there is a sparring match in the Pankration Ring which I would rather not miss,” As you began to stand up and dust off your clothing, you made your way towards the steps.
But before you could even step foot onto the metal, a shadow came up behind you before a voice practically rumbled against the walls.
“I don’t believe we have finished this conversation yet,” Wriothesley’s voice was intimidating to say the least, but you immediately retracted your foot and turned your head over your shoulder before turning back to face him again.
You reached out and grabbed the loose tie of his. “Tell you what, how about you let me go and see that match that I have just been dying to experience,” You tightened the red material before patting the knot and felt part of his rough skin against your hands. “And then you can take me on a date and we continue this later under…different circumstances hm?”
Your eyes turned up to face him as you put on that innocent act. Archons, he didn’t expect your teasing to have this much effect on him. Nevertheless, he decided to go along with it.
“I’ll pick you up at 5:30 sharp. Dress pretty, I like girls who put in effort,” He brought his face closer to yours as you felt his breath just brushing your lips. The tension was so thick that you’d practically need a sword to cut through it.
“Count on it,” Your reply was short before you turned away again, making your way down the steps. Wriothesley eyed your figure down as you finally disappeared from his line of sight. Once you did, he went back to his table and picked up a document.
“(Name) (Last Name)
Convicted for first degree murder of *********, ********* and *******.
Danger : Extreme. Do not let her number of facades fool you. Lay low and do not interact, instead observe from a distance. She is evil and we sent her to the Fortress Of Meropide for you to straighten this demon out. Do not disappoint us warden.”
“So much for laying low…” Wriothesley mumbled to himself. How on earth was he going to change your ways…?
A/N : Yeahhh so it’s been about 2-3 weeks since I wrote smth so i’m very sorry for that. I don’t really know how to continue Gepard’s series but I definitely want to. If anyone wants to pitch any ideas, please do. But I am going to be occupied with a bunch of upcoming tests for the next week or two. Until then, i’ll most likely write headcannons, oneshots and maybe some short fics for whatever character you guys want. Apologies again for the long break.
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Once Upon a Time 2
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: Andy Barber
Part of the Bookstore AU
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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That man is back. You see Andy’s gray jacket as he passes through the front doors. You shouldn't recognise it so easily.
You adeptly scurry behind the end of the bookshelf and hide. You know you shouldn’t do that, he’s a customer, but it’s the third time he’s been there in five days. You’re exhausted, not just of him but everything.
Only after his last visit did you realise he’s stopped asking for Pine. The shop owner has grown elusive and the managers bold in his absence. They barely walk the floor and leave you and the other associates to deal with truck and customers alike.
You hide up around the bestsellers and pretend to sort through the Top Picks shelf. As you do, your headset beeps and Chelsea calls your name over the line. She asks you to pop into the fiction. Great, she’s passing off another customer. All she does is scroll through her phone and drink her sugary lattes.
You hit the button and tell her you’ll be right there. You don’t need her yelling at another old woman. That cost you a store credit and a lot of stress. 
You head along the far wall and turn into the fiction section. You don’t see Chelsea but you find a familiar face nonetheless. Andy smiles and gives you a wave.
“There you are. Wasn’t sure you were working,” he greets as you approach wearily. Of course, it’s him. “I finished the last book so… actually, I don’t know if you watch it but I heard there were some books for that Bridgerton show. I just got into it– is that lame?”
He chatters a lot. He has a certain air to him. He can be charming but also seems to believe that everything he says is interesting. You wish he’d realise that to you he’s just another customer. The worst type; the sort that believes they’re your only one.
“I… I’ve seen the first episode but I haven’t been able to catch up,” you humour him, “we have the books. Some of the most popular sellers.”
You guide him down the aisle towards the spread of colourful covers. He follows and stops to peruse the title. He scratches his beard as he hums.
“Thanks, uh, I didn’t even ask,” he turns on you again, “how are you doing?”
You answer with your usual, the thoughtless, “good, and you?”
“Eh, long day at work. Figure I’d stop in on my lunch. Try to distract myself,” he undoes the top button of his coat, “toasty in here, huh?”
“I guess,” you shrug, “was there anything else you need help finding?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” he deflates just slightly, “you’ll be around though, if I do?”
“Sure,” you answer as you repress a wave of agitation. 
You back away as he watches you, almost mournful. You assume he’s a little lonely. You hear divorce is rough. A bit sad to see. He’s probably twice your age and he makes you think of those guys who mope when you tell them not to grind on you in the club. You’re not much into that scene but every now and then Ginny talks you into it.
You see Chelsea a few shelves down. She has an airpod in and her headset dangling. You’re not surprised. Her acrylics tap on her phone as she paces blindly up and down. She won’t be much help.
You stop by the shelf of Garfield comics and fix the few books switched around. Customers tend to mess up more than they buy. The colourful books no doubt attracted children who didn’t know better than to leave chaos in their stead. That’s why you steer clear of the children’s section, even if the plushies are cute.
You spin back, wanting to head back up to best sellers but a tall figure appears from the end of a row. Andy waves at you again, several books against his left arm. He comes towards you as you reluctantly advance.
“Hey, uh, think I found what I need,” he announces, “I was looking at the online shop and you sell the little book lights?” He holds up his fingers to show the size, “they clip onto the page.”
“Oh, uh, yes, those are at the front,” you point, “right on your way to checkout.”
“Great,” he hugs the books tighter. You stand in the lull, expecting him to say more. He clears his throat and traces his fingers around his mouth, “uh, well, you… you can’t check me out?”
“I’m not on cash until one,” you say. “Sorry, but someone will be up there.”
“Mmm,” he nods and looks down at his armful, “you’re so helpful. I wanted to fill out the survey for you.”
“That’s fine,” you shake your head, “really. I hope you enjoy your books.”
"Yeah, I don't know if I should watch the show first or after..."
"Hmm, I don't know," you say. "I hear they're both good."
He doesn’t move right away. His face falls as he lingers. You don’t know what to do. That’s about the nicest way you can say go away.
You put your hand to your earpiece and look away, “yeah, one second, be right there,” you say to no one. “Sorry, gotta get back to it.”
You inch away and twirl around, swiftly dipping down an aisle. His long sigh tails after you as his disappointment nips at your heels. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, he’s been polite, but it’s a bit much. There’s at least six other associates he can bother. You’d prefer it if he did.
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