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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

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Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 | Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N: Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed). It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will. Keep your hate to yourself.

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt. Tom has an idea to solve all their problems. Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts. Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else. In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards. And the press are having a field day. Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt. An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning. Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem. All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of: child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED! THANK YOU FOR READING!

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston angst #accidently married

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pillow-anime-talk · 3 years

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genshin month ; second day.

synopsis: Unlike to your lover, you were in charge of a tiny cafe in Liyue, which was loved by all residents and guests. Brewing coffee, creating new recipes and talking to clients distracted you from thinking about your blonde-haired boyfriend, who was on dangerous and long missions away from you...

# tags: scenario; current relationship; café!au; longing; plot twist; sfw

includes: female reader ft. aether {genshin impact}

author’s note: i love coffee shop au, hhhh.

You sighed gently, but after a while you adjusted the white apron that proudly hung on your waist and quickly returned to the dark wooden bar, smiling at all the customers who were waiting for your hot drinks and sweet cakes or cookies. You said ‘Welcome!’ to every funny man, every beautiful woman and every lovely child, making sure that their orders were perfect and as tasty as possible; sometimes you would even added a tiny shortbread cookie or an extra scoop of ice cream for free to make their day better. You adored your job, and others adored you and your approach to life, but from afar everyone could see that behind your light smile and serene voice hides a great longing and a hundred thoughts about the health and safety of a certain person.

Aether was a good boy who wanted to help everyone around. He always took many missions and requests on his shoulders, so that his trips to other cities/lands lasted from a few hours to several days. Currently, you were separated for the fifth day and the fair-haired told you before leaving that he would be back in about six days. It was extremely tiring, but you tried to be strong to greet him after these six, lonely days with a huge smile on your face, his favorite dinner on the table and a proposal to spend time together in the garden.

“... What’s that sad face?” You heard a low, slightly hoarse voice, which made you raise your head, quickly changing your expression to a much more cheerful.

“N-Nothing like that, sir. Can I accept your order?” You asked softly, and the young man with the baggy hood down over his eyes nodded, laughing and coughing softly.

“You can choose for me, miss.” He instructed, and you could have sworn the slight smile you saw by the corner of your eye was quite familiar to you. Nevertheless, you agreed.

“I hear you have a problem with your throat... That’s why I am happy to recommend black tea with fresh lemon and honey. A cupcake with vanilla pudding for free!” You answered joyfully and sincerely, to which the stranger beck, thanking you softly in meantime. As soon as you took care of preparing a small order for your client, in the same moment, there was still a odd uncertainty in your head about who the average height traveler is. You didn’t want to be nosy, but... you were interested in your customer’s identity. It was human thing. Getting to know others and wanting to be friends with them was something completely normal, even extremely nice and often unheard of.

Thanks to this approach to the whole world you have met numerously personalities; from the owners of the antique shop that stood in front of your smol cafe, through foreigners from amazing countries, to warriors who bore proud names such as Xingqiu, Zhongli and Ningguang. Each of them told you stories that you will surely remember for the rest of your life and you were currently really curious if your new guest also had something interesting to say.

“... What brings you to Liyue city, sir?” You started quietly, placing in front of him a porcelain cup with golden tea and a cupcake in colored paper. “Of course, if you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to do it...!”

“I’m going back to my fiancée after a long trip.” He admitted right away, and you fell silent, looking at his white hood with warm eyes.

“She will definitely be very happy.” You answered hopefully, and the male finally dared to raise his head, chuckling.

“I think so too.” Golden eyes met yours, and you dropped the cloth you had held for several seconds. The voice that used to be hoarse and heavy, after one sip of perfectly made warm drink, it seemed soft and pleasant to the ear right now. “Won’t you say ‘Hello’ to me, love? I know you missed me so much.” He rested his chin on one of his hands, and you immediately moved away from the counter, stepping out from behind it. You ran quickly to the twenty-year-old and he opened his arms wider, laughing happily. “Here is my pretty girl. Hi, dear.”

You had so many questions, so many comments and so many doubts, but before you opened your mouth to ask why he didn’t inform about his arrival earlier, why he was dressed like that, why...

“W-Wait. Did you say something about... your fiancée?” You moved away from the blonde one, and he laughed under his breath, hugging your waist a little tighter and kissing your smooth forehead with his smooth lips. Your lovable, coffee scent made the knight calmly close his eyes.

“Yes, Y/N. You heard me right.” He grunted low, and after a short second his mouth met your earlobe. “... But we’ll talk about it at home, okay?”

Pleasurable chills ran through your spine, and big flushes appeared on your cheeks; it was by far the best surprise your loved one could do for you.

previous day ; lumine ♡ next day ; albedo and sucrose

#— ⛩️#genshin impact month #genshin impact challenge #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact aether #aether #aether imagines #aether scenarios #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

ok so like y/n hanging out with her friends at an ice cream shop and super cute employee kook so happens to make y/n very nervous

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook (birthday boy!!!) x reader

➺ genre; marshmallow fluff level fluffy!!!! if u have a sweet tooth then this drabble is for you, jimin and taehyung are nightmare friends and i don’t know why u insist on hanging out with them all the time, *clown nose honk*

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ what to expect; “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“oh, god. i think you’re going to have to roll me into the car.” you groan as you place a hand over your bloated stomach, “also, i’m… pretty sure i’m nine months pregnant.”

whoever came up with the whole ‘all you can eat buffet!’ concept must’ve been a psychopath because you feel like if you take another step you’re going to projectile vomit all the way across town

you let out a huff as you bend down and place your hands on your knees

jesus

you’re going to be siCK

“no one asked you to eat like seven servings of mac n’ cheese balls.” jimin raises a brow before rubbing your back in comforting circles

“i’m sorry, do you not hear yourself?” you twist your head before looking at him as if he just sprouted two heads on each shoulder, “mac n’ cheese balls. deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. all you can eat deep-fried balls of macaroni and cheese. with a tangy chipotle-ranch dip on the side!”

“alright, i get it.” he snorts before rolling his eyes, “i’m guessing this means you’re not in the mood for dessert anymore?”

you immediately stand up straight before giving your stomach a couple of pats, “where are we going for dessert??”

you’re ALWAYS in the mood for dessert

your first stomach might be full of food but your second stomach is completely empty

the monster inside your second stomach demands something sweet!

“well, scoops is right across the street. i heard the ice cream there is pretty good!” taehyung chirps before pointing at the ice cream place

you immediately feel your heart fall out of your ass

you usually never say no to ice cream but uh

there’s one reason why you’d prefer to go someplace else

jimin glances back when he notices you’re not following them to cross the street

he raises a brow before tilting his head, “if you actually need to puke, the garbage bin is right the-“

“i’m fine, i just-“ your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “why do we have to go for ice cream?? there’s a frozen yogurt place a couple blocks away… and frozen yogurt is just as good!”

jimin and taehyung exchange glances before the two of them look back at you

“weren’t you the one who said that frozen yogurt was just a sad, watered-down version of ice cream and that the day you asked to go for frozen yogurt was the day we should execute you via cruel, unusual punishment?”

“yeah, and the cruel, unusual punishment was to force you to eat frozen yogurt?”

you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek

damnit

they’re right

you friggin’ hate frozen yogurt

“ooh, check it out!” jimin gasps, his eyes lighting up, “strawberry-rhubarb pie. i wonder how they turned a pie into an ice cream flavour!”

“uh-huh, yeah…” you mutter absentmindedly, eyes flitting around behind the large counter

okay

okay!

this is fine

everything is fine

maybe today is his day off something!

hopEfully today is his day off because you are literally about to pop a button on your jeans and the last person who you’d want to have witness that would be-

“good evening, folks!” you practically jump out of your skin and you instinctively duck behind taehyung when he seems to pop out of thin air

he smiles brightly as he props his arms up on the top of the display case, “just give me a holler whenever you’re ready.”

okay

we should probably rewind a little bit

‘he’ would be… well, the person you’re currently hiding from.

you don’t know much about him besides the fact that his name is jungkook (the name tags here are comically large, by the way. it’s actually a little ridiculous. it’s like the employees think all the customers are blind and that’s why they made their name tags the size of a baby’s head.) and every time you come here he gives you extra hot fudge on your ice cream and also he’s very veRY cute

you usually come here after you finish submitting an essay or doing a live presentation as a way to reward yourself

because why live life if you’re not going to treat yourself every now and again??

you started this tradition at the beginning of the year and originaLLy you went to the only ice cream place on campus

unfortunately, the ice cream place on campus isn’t super great

their waffle cones are always stale and the ice cream pretty much melts as soon as you take a step outside of the store

and you werE going to give up and just find another place (your second option was the ice cream at mcdonald’s but that’s actually kind of sad now that you think about it) but!!!!

you felt like you deserved to have good ice cream!!!

so you googled the best ice cream parlours in the city and scoops was one of the only ones that was the closest to campus

only a ten minute bus ride away and you didn’t even have to transfer to another bus or anything

it was pretty much a dream come true!!

and you still remember the first time you wandered in here because you were greeted veRy enthusiastically by jungkook

you were pretty much the only person in the store on that day because it was like 2pm on a tuesday which made it hard to believe that this place was as popular as it sounded

to be fair, 2pm on a tuesday isn’t really the normal time to grab a cone of ice cream so there’s that

“you’re not striking me as the cookies ’n cream type. that seems a little too basic for you…” jungkook mutters as he stroked at his chin thoughtfully, “and i’m not getting a rocky road vibe from you, either…”

“is that so?” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smile and you cross your arms as you begin to make your way down the counter, jungkook slowly following you from where he’s standing, “what kind of vibe are you getting from me?”

“red velvet cake!” jungkook stops in his tracks to point at the tub of red velvet ice cream sitting in the display case, “in a brownie waffle cone… with hot fudge on top.”

your brows perk up in interest

red velvet cake ice cream

in a brownie waffle cone

with hot fudge on top?

…that sounds like something you’d devour in three seconds flat.

you obviously ended up enjoying the ice cream, and from that moment on, you promised yourself that this would be your place to celebrate your little victories

so, yeah!

the ice cream was good and the cute boy was just a bonus

of course… there is one tiny detail that has to be addressed

if it wasn’t already painfully obvious by now - jungkook makes you extremely nervous.

you’re not sure how it started, because you were literally fine when you first met him

the nerves appeared without warning of any kind!!

it was very strange

one day jungkook’s smile suddenly made your heart skip a beat and you had nO idea why because it had never done that before

and another time, when he told you that you were his favourite customer, your stomach started doing somersaults which was also something that your stomach had nevER done before

ooh, AND that one time when he said that he’d make a fresh batch of brownie waffle cones just for you… well, you were pretty much ready to marry him right then and there.

sure, when you saw the occasional attractive person on the street, you’d have the usual ‘oh, they’re pretty cute!’ thought, but that’d be it and then you’d never think about them again

but it was different with jungkook

it was more intense with jungkook

this wasn’t just a little schoolgirl crush.,,. this was,.., this was a schoolwoMAN crush

you initially thought that all these brand new feelings combined with the tingly feeling of chocolate syrup pumping through your veins should’ve been enough to scare you away from scoops forever, but…

the only reason why you keep swallowing your nerves and coming back is because the ice cream is really good here (five gold stars on google reviews!!) aND you can’t say no to extra hot fudge on the house!!!

sometimes jungkook surprises you with a couple brownie chunks or marshmallows or even cheesecake chunks on top without ever charging you which is also really nice of him

not to mention, on the days that you end class a little earlier, you like to come here to get some studying done

you have your own little table in the corner and jungkook always brings you a little treat to enjoy during your study session

nothing huGe like your usual red velvet brownie waffle hot fudge combo because you told him that you were only allowed to eat that if you were celebrating something, so he usually brings you a little cup with a random flavour of ice cream in it

strawberry shortcake

cinnamon toast crunch

banana milk is a really good one

and you can’t noT mention the chocolate-covered strawberries ice cream

the ice cream is a tangy strawberry base with swirls of dark chocolate in it and it is truly.,,. truly one of the best things you’ve ever put in your mouth

you just don’t understand why your knees get so wobbly and your palms get sO sweaty every time he flashes that handsome smile of his in your direction

you see plenty of attractive people every day on campus!

you see plenty of attractive people every day in your lectures!

your two friends are a couple of attractive people as well!!

at one point you even had crushes on boTh jimin and taehyung!!

(you will be taking that information to your grave because if they find out.,,. you’ll never live it down)

so why is this any different??

“so, i’m gonna go with the strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… and-“ jimin turns to look at taehyung (and you, currently peeking at jimin over taehyung’s shoulder), “what are you guys getting?”

your eyes widen and you duck down again when jungkook leans over to look at you and taehyung

“i’m gonna go with… the dark chocolate and caramel swirl… in a plain waffle cone.” taehyung nods affirmatively, “yeah. take the order now before i overthink it.”

“one strawberry-rhubarb pie in a cup… one dark chocolate and caramel swirl in a plain waffle cone…” jungkook mumbles to himself as he rinses the ice cream scooper in the little bucket of water before tapping it off on the side, “-and one red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top, right, y/n?”

boTh taehyung and jimin’s heads nearly snap off when they turn to look at you

taehyung steps out of the way and you freeze like a deer in headlights

maybe if you just… stay very still… jungkook won’t see you…

a good two seconds ticks by before you figure that you probably look like an idiot right now

“um-“ you straighten up a little before smoothing your sweater down, “i… yep! that… yep. sounds good.”

jungkook smiles brightly before nodding, “alright! just give me a couple of minutes to get that ready for you guys.”

your heart starts to drum away in your chest as you watch the back of jungkook’s head

even the back of his damn head is attractive

it’s not fair!!!!

“…i feel like there’s something we’re missing here.” taehyung is the first one to speak up and you force out a chuckle before shaking your head

time to do what you do best

D E N Y

“there’s nothing you’re missing here!” you snort, “he just- i’ve been here like, once or twice, so-“

“red velvet cake in a brownie waffle cone with hot fudge on top sounds a little too specific for you to have only been here once or tw-“ jimin pauses and his eyes widen to the size of saucers, “oh my god.”

your brows knit together in concern, “wh- what?”

a smile begins to creep onto jimin’s face and your mind begins to race with what he could possibLy be thinking when suddenly- “you slept with him!” jimin gasps before whacking tae’s arm multiple times, “she slept with him!!!”

“wha- NO- no, i did not sleep with jungk-!” you lower your voice when you realise that there are children in here and you lean in, “i didn’t sleep with him. i just- i come here a lot, and- i don’t know. he’s nice! a-and he’s cute. he’s- he’s nice and he’s cute. and he gives me free things, sometimes.”

“…yeah, i think she’s telling the truth. she definitely didn’t sleep with him.“ taehyung shakes his head and you let out a sigh of relief

at least someone’s on your side here

you jolt when taehyung suddenly gives you a hearty sLAp on the back, “she’s just in love with him and doesn’t know how to tell him-“

OH my go-

“hey, your ice creams are ready for you!” jungkook, once again, seemingly pops out of thin air and the thrEE of you immediately split up the mini football huddle, “i have them for you at the cash register if you wanna come over and get them! y/n, i tried something new with your cone - i wrapped marshmallow fluff around the top and then caramelised it so it’d turn into, like, a s’mores situation-”

“y-yep! i’ll be right there-“ you hold a finger out and jungkook nods before heading over to the cash register

you turn to look at jimin and taehyung and scowl when the two of them begin to make kissy noises at each other

“oh, y/n, come to the back so i can show you my cone-“

“you can fluff my marshmallows any day of the week, jungkook-“

oh, god

see????

this was exaCTLY why you didn’t want to come here!!!!

in case this happened!!!!!

“oh my god, lemme drizzle my syrup all over your face, baby-“

“okay, c’mon, that’s enough-“

“roll me up like how you roll those waffle cones with your big, strong arms-“

jesus christ

children!!!!!!!

they are both chiLdren!!!!

boys are so GROSS

jungkook waits patiently by the cash register as his fingers drum against the marble countertop

he leans over to peek at you and your friends and smiles lightly when he sees you whaCk at one of them

to be honest, he liked you the moment you stepped into the shop for the first time

he still remembers how excited you were when you were looking at all the different flavours

according to the company policy, customers are only allowed to try four samples but jungkook’s pretty sure he let you try twenty samples on that day

after the first time you came here, he was actually pretty worried that he’d never see you again??

he was pretty bummed about it for a while because he wished that he would’ve asked for your number or something while you were here but he was too busy trying to be the charming ice-cream boy anD he was also pretty busy admiring your cute face

so he was very much pleasantly surprised when you came back a week later and was fully ready to let you go ham on the samples again

>:-)

but, again, he didn’t ask for your number that time around either because he couldn’t figure out a smooth way to ask you

and he wasn’t worried about you noT coming back because you seemed like a pretty big ice cream person

the point is: jungkook’s had plenty of opportunities (practically handed to him on a silver platter) to ask for your number so that he can finally ask you OUT and… he hasn’t.

but today!!!!

today will be different!!!!

today he’ll finally make his move!!!

he’s not giving himself an option!!!

he actually wasn’t expecting you in today because you usually pop up every two weeks or so and you came in last week

at first he thought that maybe you were dating one of the boys that you came in with but from the looks of it, the vibes are very much platonic and not at all romantic

so he thinks he’s in the clear here

jungkook straightens his posture and puffs his chest out a little bit when he sees you walking over

okay

operation: finally ask y/n for her number, you pussy is undERWAY

“well, i’m going to go and pay for your guys’ ice creams and you can just continue to make fools of yourselves-!”

by the time you make your way over to the cash register, jimin and taehyung are stiLL going at it but you’re hoping that jungkook won’t pay it any mind

“alright, how much do i owe you?” you ask as you pull your debit card out of your wallet, “this ice cream is the only thing i’m willing to break my wallet over-“

“actually, all of this is on the house today.” jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet for a second, “it’s the special birthday discount!”

you tilt your head

what special birthday discount?

“birthday discount?” you ask dumbly, “it’s not my birthday, though.”

“no, it’s not your birthday… but it’s my birthday.” jungkook clears his throat, “and… you know, i wanted to do something nice for you!”

“okay, well, first of all- happy birthday!” you smile brightly before that smile immediately drops from your face, “and, second of all- i can’t take this for free, jungkook- you even sprinkled those fancy toasted pecans on top of taehyung’s ice cream! i have to give you something-“

jungkook swallows his nerves

it’s now or never!

“there is… one thing you could give me…” he trails off, his voice starting to grow a little quiet

okay

the confidence is beginning to dwindle a little so he should probably get to the point

“yeah, i can think of one thing- like money??” you stick your debit card out again and jungkook rolls his eyes playfully before whacking your hand away

okay

just say it

just say it!!!!!!

“no, not money…” jungkook swallows thickly before shaking his head, “i was thinking more along the lines of… you know, your number.”

you drop your debit card on the countertop with a clatter

“my-“ you cut yourself off mid-sentence and you feel your cheeks immediately turn bright red, “you- you want my number?”

jungkook… jungkook wants your number?

you feel like money would be better than your number, but that’s just your humble opinion

“i mean- you obviously don’t have to give it to me if you don’t want to! i-i’m not trying to imply that you owe me anything, i just-“ jungkook pauses for a second and his tongue pokes out to swipe over his bottom lip nervously, “i just, um, i don’t know! i… i really… enjoy your company, whenever you come in for a visit, you know? and i think you’re really pretty, so there’s that. i dunno.”

well, he can safely say that his self-proclaimed boyish charm flew out of the window as soon as he opened his mouth

why’s he so nervous all of a sudden??

he’s practiced this in front of the mirror a doZEN times

and every time he hits on himself in the mirror he’s tempted to give himself his number

that’s how good he is at flirting!!

but here he is!!!

fumbling over his words!!!

shoving his clammy hands into his pockets!!!

diverting his gaze from the pretty girl who he’s been dreaming about ever since the first time he laid his undeserving eyes on her!!!

“no, no-! i just-“ you smile shyly as you slide your debit card back into your wallet with clumsy hands, “i would absolutely love to give you my number! it’s just that i- i didn’t- i didn’t think that you… liked me like that.”

jungkook looks up at you before scoffing playfully, “i’ve been giving you free ice cream for the past four months, y/n. you really didn’t think, at any point, that i liked you like that?”

you press your lips together before flashing a sheepish smile at him, “i mean… i was probably paying more attention to the ice cream than to you.”

jungkook snorts

he should’ve seen that coming.

(p.s. he heard every single word of what your friends said earlier and this is just his dumb icky sleazy boy brain speaking but he’d be down to drizzle his syrup on ur face if you allowed him to)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

The Masks We Wear

Warnings: non-consent sex, depression, suicide, self-harm, drugging, overdose. If you don’t like any of these themes, do not keep reading. For real, it’s hidden under a keep reading link so you can check out now. Take care of yourselves, my dudes.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Synopsis: You find yourself at the end of your rope but someone unexpected picks up the other end.

Note: I wrote this for me and I won’t apologize for that. I love a sweet Steve that turns slowly. Heed the warnings.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stared at the number. The digits slowly punched into your phone glaring back at you. Your finger hovered over the icon that would connect the call. The screen blurred in your vision as the tears rose again.

Had it really come to this?

You had to call. You knew that. If you didn’t…

You hit call and raised the phone shakily to your ear. You hugged your legs as you sat on the floor against the side of the couch. You still wore your work uniform, a navy shirt and dark pants. You played with your name tag as you waited for the line to pick up.

"You have reached the National Crisis Lifeline. If you are in emotional distress or suicidal crisis or are concerned about someone who might be, we're here to help. Please remain on the line while we route your call to the nearest crisis center in our network." The automated voice recited the greeting as you unclipped the tag and set it on the arm of the couch behind your head.

It wasn't too late to hang up. To suck it up. You could help yourself. You were an adult. So why was it that you couldn't put the phone down?

"Hello, my name's Steve. Who am I talking to today?" The voice was placid, calm. You were thankful not to be met with the usual, fake, chipper customer service voice.

"Uh," you uttered. You stared at the window across from you and blinked. "Um, um, um."

"Take a breath," the voice was male; soothing. "Whenever you're ready."

You inhaled and closed your eyes. You bent your elbow over your knees and dropped your head. You said your name and sniffed. " I don't know why I called."

"We don't have to talk about why you called. We can just talk." He offered.

You cleared your throat and wiggled your nose as you felt more tears prick at your eyes. "I don't have much to talk about. I work, I come home, I sleep, rinse, repeat. Even when I have free time I got… nothing. No one."

"You don't have family?" He asked.

"Not that I talk to."

"Hmm, have you ever thought of reaching out to co-workers? You already spend hours with them."

"Most of them are kids. College freshman who'd rather do anything else than hang with me." You sat up and leaned your head against the couch. "I'm a thirty-year-old loser. I work retail and eat ramen for dinner. I may as well burn my degrees… maybe along with this damn box I live in."

He said your name, gently. "I want you to take another breath and then tell me three good things about your life. Just three. It can be something that happened today, it can be something you own, it can be something you like about yourself, or even something you can do tomorrow to look forward to."

You scoffed and shook your head. He repeated your name and you swallowed your resent.

"Alright," you took a breath, "I have a roof over my head."

"Good."

"I… I made a woman happy today by finding her a gift for her daughter."

"Mhmm."

"And… and I still have some of my favourite tea left."

"Amazing. See?"

"I guess but… but these things are so small and it's always the same. Nothing ever changes. Nothing's going to change and nothing is going to get better."

"Change is small, like those things, so sometimes it's harder to see those changes."

You were silent. Tired.

"I want to ask you something, okay? You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable."

"Alright?" You shrugged.

"Have you ever hurt yourself or thought of hurting yourself?"

The question made you squirm. The tears finally broke through and trickled down your cheeks.

"Yes… but it's better than hurting someone else, isn't it?"

"No, because you're still hurting someone. In fact, you're hurting the most important person in your life. Right?"

You were quiet again. You wiped away your tears and leaned your chin in your hand.

"Sure."

"I want you to do something for me. Actually for yourself, okay? I want you to go get some of that tea and make yourself a cup. Then I want you to drink it slow and enjoy it. Every last sip."

"What?" You snorted.

"I want you to make it a habit. Every day I want you to do one nice thing for yourself."

"It's just tea."

"What kind of tea is it?"

”It's this blueberry lemon stuff I found down at the market. Nothing special."

"That sounds delicious." He said. "Where are you right now? Are you sitting? Standing?"

"I'm sitting by my couch. On the floor."

”Alright, baby steps. Stand up.”

You huffed but did as he said. "Okay?"

”Now, let's go to the kitchen.”

Again, you obliged him.

”Now, let's get the kettle on and a mug.”

”Alright," you grumbled and took out everything you needed as he listened from the other end, ”Alright, it's all good to go.”

”And what are you thinking about?”

"The tea?" You said dumbly.

"And? Anything else?"

"No. Just…"

"When you get frustrated with standing still, it's not about making big leaps. It's about the small things. So don't think about what's happened or what's going to happen. Think about what you can do now. Think about the present and what you can do to make it a little better for yourself.”

You frowned. He was making sense. You hadn't been worried about your wasted years in university or the angry customers on your horizon, you had been thinking about the tea and what mug to use. All that stuff didn't matter in that moment.

"You said you're Steve?” You asked.

”Yes,” he answered softly.

”Thank you. I… I'm sorry if I wasted your time."

"You didn't. You're not.” He assured you. ”We can keep talking if you like.”

"No, no, I think… I'll enjoy my tea and you can help someone else."

"Alright, but will you do me another favour?"

"Um, sure?" You watched the kettle, a long way from whistling.

"I work every Tuesday and Thursday after six. Will you call me next week? I'll give you my extension. Just let me know you're okay and how the tea was, okay?"

"I…” you rubbed your chin and turned to lean on the counter, "yeah, I'll call."

📞

You decided to call Steve on Tuesday. The same nerve-wracking wait before the line picked up and you quickly punched in the extension he gave you. There was a beep as you were held on call waiting and you fiddled with the edge of the notebook where you'd written down his information.

He picked up after two minutes. The same greeting as before.

"It's me." You gave your name and winced as you wondered if he even remembered you.

"Hey," he said smoothly, "Good to hear from you. Did you have a tea today?

"Um, now, I just got home."

"Well, did you do anything nice for yourself?"

"...no." You admitted.

"Well, then go make a tea and tell me everything else you've done this week to be good to yourself."

"I…” you stood stiffly and went to the kitchen. "I haven't… I went to the park on my day off," You filled the kettle and put it on the stove, "But I've been working mostly."

"That's it?"

"I've been busy," you said.

"You don't have five minutes for you?" He asked doubtfully. "You gotta make the time. Even if it's just five minutes to sit down and clear your head."

You opened the cupboard and stared at the line of mugs, each one different than the last.

"Steve…" you said carefully, "What do you do when you're not doing… this?"

"Tell me what you do and I'll tell you." He countered.

You sighed and grabbed the mug shaped like a teddy bear. " I work at a clothes shop. I know, it's exciting."

"What kind of clothes do you sell?" He asked.

"I don't know… mostly, uh, business stuff." You placed the cup down and fished out the blueberry tea. "I sell clothes to people with more important jobs."

"Your job is important. You help people. You told me yourself last week. You know, I help people too. How we help isn't as important as the fact that we do help."

You rubbed your chin as you fingered the chip along the handle of the mug. "How exactly do you help people, then?"

"Well, I do this," He answered, "And I work security."

"Security? Like at a bank or something?"

"Or something," He replied, "So, did you just call to tell me you're okay or did you wanna talk about it?"

"I told you, not much changes." You muttered.

"It will once you take my advice. One thing a day. Got it?" He urged. "I want you to start by going to the market tomorrow and getting yourself a new flavour of tea."

"I gotta work," you bemoaned.

"Five minutes on your way home," he said, "we're not looking for the perfect tea, just something new. Then you call me and tell me if it's any good."

"I thought… I thought you didn't work Wednesdays."

"You're right," he chuckled as if he hadn't realised. "Tell you what, I'll give you my number and you text me. Every time you do something for you, let me know… and if you don't, I'll remind you. Deal?"

"I… I don't know." You picked at your nail as you held your phone between your shoulder and ear.

"One text a day. That's all." He said. "Wouldn't hurt to have someone on your side, would it?"

"I g-guess," You stuttered as you caught your phone before it could slip. "I'll get a pen."

📞

The texts were small at first. ‘Had a tea’, ‘started a new book’, ‘read a chapter on my way to work’, or ‘bought a piece of cake on my lunch’. Each one seemed more absurd than the last but after a few weeks it became a habit. Steve nearly always responded quickly, just a few encouraging words but it made the days easier. It made life easier even when the big things got you down.

It was your day off. You took on a few extra hours the week before so you decided to go out for your treat that day. You went about your routine slowly, not your usual frantic I gotta catch the train pace. You preened yourself and pulled out a pair of pale jeans and a knit sweater. You tucked your feet into your comfy sneakers and headed out with your purse and headphones.

You would take a long walk through the park then sneak out the east gates to grab something special from the coffee place just across the street. Then you would head back and enjoy the scenery as you sipped at whatever overpriced concoction you settled on.

It was the early days of fall. The warm air was undercut with a cool breeze; an omen of the seasons to come. You put one earbud in and tucked your hands in your pocket as you walked along the winding path. The leaves were still green and lush and the air smelled of pollen. You stopped on the small bridge that crossed the small creek at the centre of the park.

You continued on and checked the time. It didn’t matter, you had the whole day to yourself. Like Steve said, think about now, not then, not later.

You came out onto the New York sidewalk and neared the curb. You looked both ways before dodging between the stagnant traffic and hopped up onto the pavement on the other side. You neared the short iron fence that edged the patio of the coffee shop and joined the queue of people as you looked over the menu.

Hmm, a rose-infused latte was different. You’d never thought of flowers in your tea but you never were overly creative. You ordered, the largest size despite your troublesome bladder, and waited for your turn to grab your cup from the ledge. It was busy that day and you hid against the wall to keep out of the way of others.

Your name was called and you grabbed your cup. You went to a table and slid your phone from your pocket. You snapped a frame of the drink and typed beneath it before you hit send. ‘Today’s little thing is actually a large :)’.

You pushed your phone back into your pocket and wove your wait to the exit. You were stopped as your name was called for a second time. You turned as a blonde haired man neared you. He was oddly familiar. Startlingly, actually.

Steve Rogers was calling your name. Not such a strange sight in the city but you’d never chanced to see him beyond a television screen or magazine cover.

“Hey, what are the odds?” He showed you the phone in his hand; the picture of your drink stared back at you. “I never thought--” He smiled. “Oh, this is weird, isn’t it?”

“Steve?” Your eyes were round and your mouth fell open. “You’re… oh, wow, I…”

Someone else called his name and he peeked over his shoulder. “I’m up. Would you… would you wait for me?”

You nodded dumbly and watched him stride through the crowd to take his coffee from the counter. He gave a thanks and dropped a large tip into the jar. You watched in shock, barely stepping out of the way of another customer.

He passed through the opening of the fence and neared again. You snapped your mouth shut and swallowed. Your mouth was dry but the steam rising from the cup warned you it was too hot.

“How… how did you know it was me?” You asked.

“Well, I heard your name and then saw you with your phone and uh, well, the message was just confirmation of my suspicions, really.” He grinned. “Which way you heading?”

“Um, I came through the park,” You pointed across the street. “Probably not your neighbourhood.”

“I can make a detour,” He waved you towards the street and you hid behind a car as you waited to cross.

He stepped out first and caught your hand before you could fall behind. He pulled you to the other side and you nearly stumbled onto the curb.

“Sorry,” he let go suddenly, “You know New York drivers.”

“No, it’s… fine,” You walked beside him as he neared the archway that fronted that end of the park. “I’m just… I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit shocked right now.”

“I know it’s weird and a bit… unethical. At the centre, we’re not supposed to associate with callers outside but… it’s all just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I, uh, suppose,” you lifted the cup and inhaled the sweet aroma of sugared petals, “but I’d hate to get you in trouble.”

“Nah, it’s fine, if you don’t tell, I won’t.”

“I… can delete your number.” You offered, “You didn’t have to--”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He eschewed, “It’s fine. I just… you didn’t seem to like calling the hotline but I didn’t want you to get lost in the shuffle.”

You chewed your lip and played with the strap of your purse. You let out a breath, heavy and anxious. You’d never expected to meet Steve. More so, you didn’t expect him to be THE Steve Rogers. You had spilled out your ridiculous insecurities to him. God, he must have thought you were so pathetic.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I would’ve… been fine. I was just in a bad spot.”

“So…” He walked close to you. His cologne smelled of sandalwood. “How’s work?”

“It’s work,” you shrugged, “Wait, you said you did security. Jesus!”

“Well, I do, in a sense,” he chuckled, “You know they really don’t encourage me telling people I’m an avenger at the centre. It kinda shifts the attention in the wrong direction.”

“Hmm, I guess it would,” you muttered, “Well, thank you, for all your help. Really, you have helped.”

“I never expected… I don’t know what I expected,” he went on, “how I pictured you. I just didn’t-- Not that-- I don’t mean...”

He shut up and cringed. He looked around at the trees and let out a sigh.

“You’re right, this isn’t a little thing,” he mused, “it’s beautiful out here.”

“Yeah,” you said rigidly and raised your cup to your lips and tasted the foam, “I guess I’m just happy it isn’t raining on my day off.”

📞

Steve walked you to the other side of the park and you left him there. You finished your latte in the block before your apartment. You were still shaken from the meeting. The chance of such an encounter was so vast you hadn’t even thought of it. You had built yourself up to talk to a stranger on the phone and leave it at that, not to face him and your problems all in one. You were embarrassed despite Steve’s friendliness. You couldn’t help but feel the taint of pity.

You tried to leave your shame on the street. You went up to your apartment and slid the chain into place. You turned on some music and did your leftover dishes, a sense of accomplishment as you wiped down the counters afterward. The rest of the day was yours to do with as you wished. But you were restless. The feeling that made you want to pace and chew your nails.

You flipped on the television and opened your phone to stream some mindless video from Youtube. You settled on a compilation of clips from a reality show and slumped onto the couch. As you laid back, your phone shook your hand and a notification flashed across the top.

‘Hope you got home safe.’ Steve’s message disappeared just as you read it. You pulled down the status bar and hit the bubble to open the chat.

‘I did. Thanks. Funny running into you. Hope the rest of your day is good.’ The message was clunky and awkward. The whole thing was weird and you just wanted to forget about the run-in.

‘So what else are you doing on your day off?’ His next message made your phone buzz and you blinked at it. He never really said much in return, just things like ‘that’s awesome’ or a few emojis. You thought of how excited he had been to see you. You were sure he talked to hundreds of people so why?

‘Watching TV’, you answered and put your phone down on your stomach. You tried to focus on the television but your phone rattled again.

‘I don’t want to overstep but can I ask you something?’ You were on edge as you read the message three times over.

‘Okay.’

‘You think you might want to get coffee again next week?’

You hesitated. Was he asking you out? No, that couldn’t be it. Was he merely checking in to make himself feel better? That was a better explanation. Believable. You let the screen turn black and thought. You could say no. Probably should.

You unlocked the phone as you heart pumped in your chest. It was Steve Rogers. What harm was there in saying yes? Maybe, for once, you would actually make a friend.

📞

You met at the same coffee shop. This time you sat down and got a scone with your tea. Steve got a coffee and nothing else. It seemed an afterthought as he only watched you pick at the crumbly dessert.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you sipped from your tea.

“Yeah, just… I’m sorry, I’m just a quiet person.” You shied away.

“That’s fine,” he said, “I understand, you don’t talk to many people outside work.”

You frowned and sat back. He was right but it didn’t make the truth easier to hear. You nodded and shrugged.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I guess I have the same problem, you know. I spend most of my time with my team members or talking to the press.” He rested his hand around his mug. “It’s nice to have someone who isn’t tied up in all of that.”

“I mean… I’m just… me.” You ran your nail down the side of your cup.

“And? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” He insisted.

“Well, you barely know me,” you countered.

“I don’t? How many people know about the dark times? How many people do you let know?” He asked.

“It’s not… it’s not their business.” You crumpled the napkin and tossed it on the empty plate.

“It might help if you opened up more. You said you were lonely--”

“I was having a bad day,” You snapped. “Steve, I don’t… I didn’t come here to talk about all of that.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because you asked me to.”

“And why do you think I asked you?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms.

“I asked you because I see what you can’t.” He said evenly. “You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re beautiful to be completely honest, and you won’t let yourself see it because the world hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows for you.”

“I-- I--” You sputtered and looked around. “No.” You stood and gathered up your dishes. “I gotta go.”

“You’re doing it right now,” He stood too and blocked your way, “Trying to run from the little bit of good.”

“I don’t know you. The only reason we ever met is because I was going to--” You gulped, unable to force the words out. “I think this was a mistake.”

You pushed past him and planted your dishes on the counter. You stormed out as Steve followed and the door jingled behind you. He trailed you across the patio and onto the sidewalk. He caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m trying to help you,” he hissed.

“I don’t need you to save me, Captain,” You yanked your arm away. “I’m not one of your missions.”

His brows drew together and his lips turned down. He had never looked anything but happy, neutral at worst.

“Fine, go,” He threw up his hand, “But I’ll be around if you need me. When you need me.”

You spun and stomped away from him. You were humiliated, assured of your worst suspicions. You were a pet project to him. He was trying to fix you. Another rescue mission for the First Avenger. Next time, you would listen to your gut and say no.

📞

Work. Again. It was dead and Marcy, your manager had you dusting the racks for the fifth time that day. You dragged the duster over the already shining rod that held hangers of dress shirts. You felt your phone vibrate and ignored it. Likely just another reminder to claim your daily prize in that stupid word game.

You kept on as you were, staring out the windows of the store front onto the shining street. Your phone buzzed again and you peeked over at Marcy. She was reading one of her novellas behind the large counter. She never hid it very well but really didn’t seem to care either.

You slid your phone out and moved onto the next rack. It had been over a week since Steve had messaged you. He had tried several times after the tense coffee date but had given up at your silence.

‘How are you?’ He asked as if you hadn’t been ignoring him. You pushed the phone back in your pocket and it vibrated for a third time. You should just block him already. You took it back out and ready the next message. ‘I know you’re working but you can answer me.’

You squeezed the phone and blacked the screen. You put it away and returned to your futile dusting. The door opened as you neared it and you stopped short as one of the only customers of the day stepped inside. You gaped as Steve looked around with a grin.

You heard Marcy clear her throat and you looked over at her. You shifted on your feet and lowered the duster.

“Hello, sir. Welcome to Silkz, how can I help you today?” Your throat was tight as he focused on you.

“You know, I need a gift for… a friend but she’s a bit hard to please.” He said.

“Oh,” Your lip twitched as you tried to smile. Marcy was always nagging you for your resting bitch face. “Well, what were you thinking, sir? A scarf? Some jewelry?”

“Maybe a dress. I always tell her she needs to change things up and I think it would be a good switch up.” He replied and stepped a little closer.

“Over here,” You said abruptly and backed up as you waved to the wall behind you. “This is our new collection. Lots of reds this fall.”

You glanced at Marcy as she smiled primly and her eyes fell back to her tale of romance. Steve followed you closely as you touched a long-sleeved burgundy dress with a pleated skirt.

“This should be plain enough that it should fit anyone’s taste. Of course without being too plain.” You offered. “Did you know what size you would need?”

“Oh, she’s about your size,” Steve said, “And I was thinking something less… well something with more skin.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep your distance from him and found a dress in a lighter shade of red with cutouts at the sides and a slimmer silhouette. You grabbed it and held it almost like a shield. He barely even looked at it.

“I’m sure it will look wonderful on her,” he remarked, “Can you show me the jewelry? I might get her something to go with it.”

The jewelry stand was in the other corner. Far from Marcy as she kept to one side of the counter and hunched over her book. You rounded a table of folded slacks and led him to the rack. He followed and stopped beside you as he took a necklace with a feather ornament and pretended to look at it.

“You haven’t been answering me,” he said under his breath.

“Yeah, might be a hint,” you retorted, “what are you doing here?”

“Checking in. Making sure you’re okay… since no one else knows how you can get.”

“Do you realise how fucked up this is?” You hissed. “I… You can’t bring those things up.”

“You won’t. You can’t outrun it forever. I see it in you. You told me yourself. You’re desperate for a change.” He hung the necklace again. “I can change everything for you.”

“What do you want?”

He looked down and took a bracelet from the rack; a silver band with a red rose ornament. He held it out to you. “I want a change too.”

You took the bracelet and backed away with the dress folded over your arm. “Is that everything?” You said loudly.

“For now,” he answered as he kept close and you kept away by rounding the other side of the counter, “I think she’ll love it… it’ll look great on her.”

“I’m sure it will,” you said as you scanned the items. “How are you paying, sir?”

📞

The rest of your day dragged by. There were no distractions to keep you from thinking of your run in with Steve. It was as if he had flipped a switch. No long the cheerful, concerned man, there was something sinister behind his otherwise caring words. The way he’d watched you, followed you so closely, the mere tone of his voice. He was angry and you couldn’t help but feel you had asked for it.

You left reluctantly as Marcy locked up. You caught the train, watching over your shoulder. You had never told Steve where exactly you worked, you realised as you swayed with the movement of the subway. There were dozens of clothing stores in the city, how had found yours?

You got off and climbed the steps to your apartment. Would it be too much to file a report? He hadn’t done anything but bought some merchandise from the store you happened to work in. But he had offered his number to a caller at the centre and he had pursued her beyond that. Yet, you had agreed to it all.

You were, as ever, so stupid.

You stepped off at your floor and your hands fumbled with your keys. You couldn’t calm down. There was something so off about all of it. Steve showing up, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. You pushed inside and swung the door shut before you could process what awaited you within.

Steve leaned against the back of your couch, arms crossed, as he watched you expectantly. Your hand lingered on the door and he shoved himself away from the sofa. He tutted his warning.

“You won’t make it down the hall but I don’t mind a chase.” He sneered. “You’ve already taken me on one, haven’t you?”

“I don’t--Steve… whatever it is you think…”

“I think I’ve only tried to help you. I think you just like to be the way you are. Low, sad, pathetic. I can make you more.” He neared and you pressed yourself to the door. “I will make you more. I will make you happy.”

“Please,” you whimpered as he took your purse from you and placed it on the table beside the door.

“Shhh,” he ran his fingers along your cheek, “You know what they always told us at the crisis center; you gotta hit bottom before you can lift yourself up.”

You shuddered as he dragged his thumb across your lip.

“This is your bottom, sweetie.” His hand dropped to your shoulder and ran down your arm. He took your hand and pulled you away from the door.

He led you around the couch and sat, taking you with him. You tugged against his grasp and he squeezed your hand painfully.

“Sweetie, I just got us a nice bottle of wine.” He smiled. “Take a breath, have a glass, relax. We’re going to figure this all out. Together.”

Your lip trembled as your thoughts bloomed all once; the confusion, the fear, the despair bubbled up and left you speechless. He replaced his hand with a glass of wine and held your fingers around it. He let go gently and you held onto the glass if only to keep from falling apart entirely.

“Go on, have a drink.” He urged.

You looked at the dark red alcohol. You were never much of a drinker. Your father had been a lush. Your heart sank as you found it impossible to move. He pressed two fingers to the base and pushed it up until the rim was at your lips. You drank and he tipped the glass until you emptied it. When he let you lower it, you were dizzy and your stomach burned.

You placed the glass down and fell back against the couch. You touched your hot cheeks and he leaned in as he watched you. “The alcohol will add to the effect but I’ll call someone before it’s too late.”

“Effect? What?” You touched your forehead and your lashes fluttered. You tried to breathe away the wine but the spinning only got worse. “What did you do?”

Your vision was blurry as you looked over at him. He put his phone to his ear as his other hand rested on your thigh. “Hello? Yes, I need- I need help.” His voice was frantic, perfectly believable. “My girlfriend, she-- she’s passed out. I found her on the floor… I think she took something. Please, I can’t get her to wake up.”

He played the part so well you even believed him as you were drawn deeper and deeper into the void. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him give your address and you slumped against the arm of the couch. Your limbs were heavy, your head heavier. You couldn’t resist the warmth that surrounded you.

📞

You woke up to steady beeping. The sterile smell of the hospital made your nostrils dry and you groaned as you fought to open your eyes. Your entire being hurt; inside and out. The bright lights made your head throb and a figure beside you moved closer. Your vision cleared slowly as you looked at Steve and he took your hand in his.

“I’ll get the nurse, sweetie,” He said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wha-- St--” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

He left you and returned with a woman in green scrubs. She made a note on your chart and looked at the machines you were attached to. She was gone just as quickly and left you with Steve who once more clung to your hand.

“I’m here for you, sweetie. We’ll get through this together?”

“What… what did…” You mumbled, “what did you do?”

“I saved you,” he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Alright,” The doctor swept through the open door, “Now, it’s good to see you stable, miss. That was a close one.”

“I--” You blinked as you tried to pull your hand from Steve’s but were too weak to do more than moan.

“We’ve managed to flush the drugs out of your system and your vitals have returned to normal. It is hospital policy to keep you under surveillance for three days but given Mr. Rogers’ crisis training and reputation, we feel it in everyone’s interest to release you to him.” The doctor explained. “We’ve explained to him the precautions to be taken and you should be confident in your safety under his care. Furthermore, we will have you return for some counselling when you are up to it. Again, you must already be aware that Mr. Rogers is also capable in that aspect.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Steve said as you stared.

“Please,” You said weakly.

“Remember, Mr. Rogers, your check-ins. Every four hours.” The doctor took a paper from his clipboard and handed it to Steve. “She’s lucky to have you.”

The doctor left and you watched helplessly. How could they release you to this stranger? How could they not keep you under their own supervision? Were you just another bed to be freed up?

You grumbled as you tried to sit up and only did so as Steve helped you.

“I’ll get a chair and then we can get you dressed, sweetie,” he said, “you’ll be safe with me.”

📞

The world passed by you as you watched it through a haze. You couldn’t seem to break through the frosted window before you. Steve moved you from the hospital to his car to his building to his bed. You barely recalled any of it as you reclined against the fluffy pillow. You were trapped in a limbo; never quite awake and never quite asleep.

And then you were painfully conscious.

Steve was beside you. The room was yellow with soft sunlight. You felt lighter but not free. A thick arm slung across your middle and he drew you close. He rolled you against him and you pushed against his chest as you faced him. His blue eyes were on you, deep and dusky.

“I called your work. Let them know you were on an indefinite leave.” He bent his arm behind you as he hugged you to him. “Permanent if you want.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” You breathed.

“Changing your life. That’s what you wanted,” he brushed his nose against yours, “you don’t have to work. You can stay here and find your happiness. With me.”

“No, please, Steve…”

“You said you were lonely, you hate your job, that you’re running out of time,” his breath glossed over your lips, “I can fix all that.”

He lifted his head slightly and kissed you. You curled your fingers and clawed his shoulder. He rolled you onto your back as his tongue poked at your lips. You resisted but he was persistent. You let him in and moaned around the intrusion.

He pulled away and framed your face with his hand as he gazed into your eyes. “I meant it when I said you were beautiful,” he purred, “The moment I saw you, even the moment I heard your voice, I knew I needed you. I knew I was the only one who could make you happy.”

“Steve, you don’t know me…” You pushed against him. “You don’t even know me.”

“No one does because you won’t let them,” he traced your hairline with his fingers, “But I’m not going to give up. Ever.”

His hand closed around your chin and he kissed you again. He rocked his body against yours. You wore only a tee shirt and nothing else, the cotton thin between your bodies; his entirely naked, you realised.

His hand slid further down as his lips moved against yours. He pushed his hand beneath your shirt and groped your chest with a hum. You winced and sank your head deep into the pillow as you tried to turn away from him. He circled your nipple with his thumb as his cock twitched against your thigh.

He forced his knee between yours and you gasped as you ripped your lips away from his.

“Steve, what are you-- please.” You begged.

“I just want to love you,” He murmured, “You deserve to be loved.”

His hand crawled down your stomach and nestled between your legs. You flinched and your thighs tensed against him. You wriggled and crashed his lips into yours again. You tried to pull his hand away from you but he was too strong. You suffocated beneath him and against his will.

His fingers slipped along your cunt. It had been more than a year since you’d been touched. It was intoxicating despite your reticence. You shook and as his fingers flicked over your clit and you gasped into his mouth. He rubbed you until your arousal slicked his touch and you grabbed his arm as a tickle spread down your legs.

He turned his hand and pushed his fingers inside of you. He bent them and pressed his hand to your bud. He parted from your lips and rested his cheek against yours. He rocked his hand and the pressure inside of you mounted in his grip. You arched your back and bent your legs around him. You couldn’t resist the sudden flutter deep in your core.

You slapped your hand against his neck and your fingers curved against his skin. You gulped at air as your orgasm rose against your will. Your muscles tightened all at once and the pleasure flooded from you suddenly. You drowned in it and let it carry you away.

Slowly, he removed his hand, leaving a trail over your stomach as he pushed your shirt up. He shifted and his cock prodded your pussy. He prodded your entrance and lined himself up he cupped your breast. He pushed inside a little at a time. Your nails sank deeper into his flesh and your other hand went to his shoulder.

He pushed himself to his limit. You had never felt so full. He tilted his hips and you moaned. You turned your head back and forth as he began to thrust; carefully, decisively. Each time, your voice grew louder.

He caught your chin and kissed you. He planted kisses along your cheek and down your neck as he continued to rock into you. His pace built, little by little, and the bed quaked beneath your bodies. Your hands fell to the pillow and you clenched it as your body melded with his.

You forgot all that had brought you there, the worries that hung over you endlessly, the fears, the doubts. You whined as another orgasm burst within you and you squirming beneath Steve. He grunted as he sped up, fueled by your cries, and pushed himself up as his hips moved against you.

He stared into your eyes as his sweaty blonde hair fell forward and his square jaw clenched. He saw back as he grabbed your hips and tilted you against him. He snarled and his motion turned stunted and strained. He growled through his teeth as he came, his nails cut into your flesh and he filled you with cords of hot cum.

He stilled you and let out a long breath as his shoulder curled forward and he hung his head. He squeezed your hips and caressed your thighs. He lowered himself over you and turned onto his side, keeping you against him as he lingered inside of you.

“I’m happy,” he uttered, “Are you?”

Your lashes fluttered as hot tears rose in your eyes. As reality sunk in like concrete and you stared over his shoulder at the wall. You were numb yet your heart swelled in terror. You nodded as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye.

“Yes,” you lied.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #marvel #mcu #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #one shot

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softomi · 4 years

Text

The Specials of the Day

prompt: I’d never want to have you to eat alone, so even if my stomach explodes, I’ll eat with you

pairing: osamu x reader

As he hurled into the toilet, hunched over the bowl, gripping the edges for dear life; Osamu knew exactly how he could have prevented the situation. In fact, this wasn’t the first time he became friends with the toilet after a particularly gruesome lunch.

But how could he resist the way you look at him. The way your eyelashes batted softly, eyes adorned with love, lips perking as you spoke. You were even inviting him to do his favorite thing: eat.

“There’s a great restaurant down the street.”

“A new café just opened up on the other side of campus.”

“I really wanted to try the new menu, are you sure you can’t come?”

And each time you suggested something, he would foolishly agree despite fulfilling his stomach to his extent earlier. It wasn’t foolish, he tried to reason, if he was hopelessly in love with you. Osamu built a bond with you over food, or perhaps it was food that brought you two together. He had met you through working together at a restaurant, Osamu would always catch you eating some food. Your cheeks puffed, a soft grin, your hand attempting to hide your caught state. Osamu, a cook, and you, a waitress, the day a manager caught you with food in your mouth, Osamu rescued you.

“She’s taste testing.” He had said the moment the manager asked you why you were eating. He didn’t know why he was so eager to save you, perhaps it was a coworkers united thing at the moment, but the way he remembers it now; it was definitely the cute fearful look on your face when you glanced at him.

“Hey.” You stopped him on his way out of the restaurant, “Thanks.” You grin, “Seriously, I was so hungry I thought I wouldn’t be able to last the whole shift.”

Osamu nods, “No problem, wouldn’t want the best waitress to get fired over eating.”

“Best waitress?”

He blushes, “Just saying, you don’t get frustrated with us cooks, we all think your nice.”

“Ah.” An innocent smile on your lips, “I should treat you though.”

“It’s okay, no worries.” He tried to continue walking but you ended up following him in the same direction. Awkward with new people, Osamu cursed that employees had to park in the same location.

You turn to look at him periodically, he can practically feel the burn in your eyes, “There’s a really good restaurant near here, I was there with one of my friends the other day and their menu is just spectacular. Everything, cooked to perfection.”

He was hooked. What you had said about the restaurant was vague, but he was hooked on you. Osamu soon realized that your love for food extended to everything, he couldn’t figure out if you had literally the worst tastebuds in the world or was just over optimistic about everything. Every dish was perfect for you, even when he spit out the saltiest fish he’s ever had in his life, you happily noted that it was still good. He forced you to stop eating, fearful of your sodium intake.

When he finally determines he’s done throwing up, Osamu can only sit on the ground, his stomach still feeling bloated.

“Sir?” The door to the bathroom opens, “If you want to head home, I can close the restaurant at the end of the day.”

He couldn’t go home though; a new shipment of rice was coming in and Kita liked to deliver the rice personally. But that didn’t mean he had to look good for his friend, it meant that he could complain about how he wanted to never eat again despite dinner being on his mind.

“You ate twice?” Kita looks at Osamu, the male sitting on the ground, his stomach still queasy.

Osamu groans, “Well, Tsumu wanted to eat at a buffet so we did but then right after we finished eating, y/n called me saying that she really wanted to eat at the same buffet, so of course I agreed and ate again.”

“Why didn’t you just not eat a lot your second time.”

Osamu looks at the older male, “I feel bad making her eat a lot alone, and she can eat. But this isn’t even the first time, last week I had three full course meals in the span of four hours. I literally thought I was giving birth.”

“Okay, just don’t eat with her then.”

“But then, what if she never wants to eat with me again.”

Kita isn’t amused, “I think you’re over thinking.”

Osamu rests a hand onto his stomach, “I feel so nauseous.” His cell rings in his pocket, the way your name pops up onto his screen has him forgetting the nauseousness in his stomach, “Hey!” He’s a little too eager in his answer.

“Hey, I know we just ate lunch together but if you wanted, we could go out to eat for dinner. I know a great place.”

Love struck, he laughs, “Of course, I’d love to have dinner with you. Where should we meet?”

“I’ll stop by.” You say, “then we can head out together.”

Osamu notices the expression on his older friend but the lecture he’s about to receive from Kita is nothing compared to the cute way your cheeks puff with such excitement over food.

He couldn’t wait for the day to be over, as the time neared for the closing of his restaurant, he tried to ready himself for when you walked through the door. As the last of his workers left, he can already spot you skipping in from outside of the windows, casually greeting some of his workers on their way out. He even noticed the way some of his workers snickered with their looks towards him; it was no secret at Onigiri Miya that the owner had the biggest crush on you.

“Hey!” You jump in, pulling yourself into one of the stool seats.

Osamu leans over the counter, just close enough so he can get the nice scent of you. You were always sweet scented; it came as no shock since you worked at a bakery. Every time he saw you, he could tell what you were baking that day, some days cookies, other days, cakes. He wonders if you still liked to sneak food into your mouth during work.

He’d be lying if he said he was listening to what you were saying. Your pretty lips were moving but all he could see was how beautiful you were.

“Samu?”

He straightens up, hoping that the flush of his face isn’t as visible under his hat, “Sorry, long day at work.” He lies.

“Well, I got you something.” You’re rummaging into your bag, pulling out a bottle and placing it in front of him.

“Digestion medicine?” Osamu eyes the bottle.

You were sitting there, arms crossed, a light grin on your face, “I was telling Atsumu about the buffet we went to today and he told me that you two ate there earlier.” Your expression softens, “Knowing how much you ate with me, I can only assume you spent the day in agony, next time, just tell me that you already ate. I can always eat alone.”

He’s silent, but the way you look at him with such concern, he can’t argue. You grabbed your bag, standing from your seat, “Wait.” He stops you any further from moving, “What about dinner?”

You beam excited at him, “I’m going to my favorite restaurant. The owner there is really cute.”

Osamu deflates, “Oh, well, see ya I guess.”

“Okay. See you.”

Osamu watches you make sure you have everything, a silly habit he knows you have; you were always afraid of forgetting something. He feels dejected as you begin to walk away, but the way you round the counter, footsteps pitter pattering towards the cash register makes him confused.

“What are you doing?” He questions.

You lean over the register, giggling as he stares at you, “I’m starving so I came to my favorite restaurant.” The grin on your lips makes his heart stop, “Best. Onigiri. In. The. World.” You tap a finger onto your lips, “but the service is okay, I’ve been here for ten minutes and no one’s taking my order.”

Osamu makes his way to you, palms getting sweaty as he gets nearer and nearer. The owner there is really cute. Your words echo in his head and he’s starting to overthink. Did you really mean what you said, or were you merely teasing him.

“What can I get you?” He speaks in his customer service voice and it makes you press your lips into a smile, “Would you like to hear the specials?”

“Specials?” You perk up.

“Yep, there’s two specials of the day.” Osamu leans forward, “One is called the ‘I Like You Onigiri’ and the other is called the ‘I Don’t Like You, Leave Me Alone Onigiri’.”

You purse your lips, “I think I’m allergic to I Don’t Like You, Leave Me Alone Onigiri.”

It was like you were playing chicken with him, the way you leaned just a bit closer to him. He’s taking in more of your scent and it’s driving him wild, “Would you be interested in one of our new signature drinks?”

“Hm?” You tilt with a question in your expression.

“Can I Kiss You.”

“Oh.” You breathe out a smile, “I’ll take it in a large.”

Osamu places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into his lips, drinking you in as much as he can. Your hand tips his hat back, fingers running through his hair as the hat falls with a thud. When he lets you go, you pull away, wiping your lips. Flushed cheeks, a laugh coming from you, Osamu pushes his hair back to refix the hat onto his head.

“I’ve never actually made onigiri before.” You were staring at the ingredients on the counter.

“Well, it’s your lucky day then, I’ll give you a free lesson into the Onigiri Miya way.” Osamu fits the apron on you; you don’t notice the way it has his name written across the front. You preferred to look up at the man as he wraps the ties around your waist, pulling you into his chest as he finishes tying the strings around your back.

You think for a second that he’d stand next to you, showing you the way he formed the rice. Instead, he positions you in the center of the ingredients. Pushing his chest to your back, resting a chin on your shoulder, his hands running over yours, using your fingers as his to mold the rice into its intended form.

“Perfect.” He whispers.

Distractedly in awe of the onigiri you just made, you’re wiggling out of his grasp to take pictures of your own set of onigiri. He’s cleaning up, washing the dishes as you munch your food. You offer him a bite which he fully accepts. You miss the way as you turn your back to him, he spits out the overly salty onigiri into the sink.

“Mm.” He masks a grin onto his face, “So good.”

#is it obvious i love the miya twins?#osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #osamu scenario #hq osamu #haikyuu scenario #osamu miya #osamu x y/n

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kakashiswilloffire · 3 years

Text

Cold Brew

ao3

word count: 1.9k

kakashi x gn!reader, fluff, coffee shop au

warnings: none!

***

It had been a terrible day. Things had been going well when it began, but it took a turn for the worse, and now, it had been a fucking terrible day. You kept your head down as you walked along the busy sidewalk, careful to avoid other passersby. If nothing else, you deserved to something to look forward to after everything you’d been through, and hell if you weren’t going to get it yourself.

And maybe this time, you’d get the barista’s number with it.

There was a light chime as you pushed open the door to the Starbucks nearest your apartment. Logically, you understood that every Starbucks made their drinks the same way, with the same formula and ingredients, but there was something about this location that made your drink seem a little bit sweeter and richer in flavor. You didn’t come here every day by any means, but if you had the time and a little extra cash, it was a good way to relax and reward yourself for working as hard as you did.

One of the staff members behind the counter, the one who always somehow had a white towel stained with red syrup hanging from his front pocket, called out a rushed greeting upon your entrance. When he finished wiping his hands and returned the rag to its home, he looked at you properly.

“Ah! What can I get started for you today?” he grinned. “It was the red velvet last time, right?”

You returned the grin, allowing tension to start melting off your body. “That was the time before last. Last time, it was—”

“The lemon loaf, Asuma,” scoffed the employee who had just finished blending a drive through customer’s drink and came around the corner to see who had walked in. Teasing, he added, “I can’t believe you can’t keep it straight.”

“Fuck off, Kakashi,” he mumbled, making sure to swear at a volume no one else could hear. The silver-haired twenty-something laughed, and you felt yourself become lighter and had to stop yourself from letting your head tip to the side.

These two worked frequently when you came in, and had been actively following your journey in trying all the bakery items they served to determine what paired best with your coffee order. It had started accidentally, with you getting three different bagels on different days in the same week, and Kakashi had made a comment about it, and now it was your mission. Together, you had gone through the bagels, the cake pops, and were currently testing out the cakes. The lemon loaf had been an excellent contender, and you weren’t sure what would be able to top it.

Except, of course, Kakashi getting the hint.

He was normally making drinks when you came in, and you had watched him occasionally in awe while waiting for your order. He seemed to know each recipe innately, and he created lattes, frappuccinos and everything else almost as quickly as they were ordered. His hands moved with surprising speed, accommodating any modifications as he expertly and gracefully crafted drinks. That had been what first drew you to him, and then you became aware how elegantly he did everything. He even made the green apron look great—pairing it with a long sleeve deep blue, nearly grey shirt and keeping an assortment of pens and sharpies in the chest pocket.

He was charming, and beautiful, and graceful, and damn if Asuma didn’t know exactly how you felt about him. Asuma normally took orders, having a great rapport with customers and a talent for figuring out what they meant when they ordered lattes with no espresso or milk. It had taken about a month before he had put two and two together about your feelings for his coworker. Kakashi had interrupted him taking your order to ask a question about the previous customer’s drink, and when he walked away, it took Asuma waving a hand in front of your eyes to bring you back to the present. He had nearly giggled, encouraging you to ask him out on the spot and reassuring you that he was single. You were mortified and flatly refused. Since then, Asuma had made a point of being unavailable to hand you your drink or baked good, and had even tried a couple of times to get Kakashi to take your order himself.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Kakashi asked, leaning across the counter and gesturing for you to lean toward him. You complied, fighting a blush when Asuma looked back and forth between you and tried to make eye contact. He pointed at the display case and dropped his voice to a loud whisper.

“I know you like to stick to one category at a time, but the banana nut’s no good today. It thawed out and then got re-frozen because the new guy, Iruka, left a whole case out for a couple hours yesterday. The texture is garbage.” He nodded at a nervous trainee in the corner, looking a little panicked by a hissing espresso machine. “Go with a blueberry muffin. Classic, and good with everything. Also, it’s my favorite.” He stood back up and winked, turning to go help his coworker who yelped as the milk he was steaming splashed onto the back of his hand.

Your head spun for a moment, then you turned back to Asuma. His grin had now become so wide it looked painful.

“So, one blueberry muffin,” he said as he rapidly tapped the screen. “And then what size today?”

“Venti, for sure.”

“That kind of day, huh?” When you firmly nodded, Asuma furiously tapped again. “I’ll ring you up for a tall and have your boy just make it a venti. How’s that?”

You felt a blush creep across your face by the favor and the description of Kakashi. “No, don’t worry about it, I can pay—”

“Already done. I’d have to void the order to change the size now.” His eyes glinted with a little mischief. It was not the first time he had under-charged you, and it would likely not be the last. You always looked much happier as you left the store than you did when you entered it, and on days like this, you glowed just a bit more.

You relented, reaching for your wallet. “Fine. And while we’re at it, he’s not my boy,” you chided as you handed over your card.

Asuma waved the plastic rectangle back at you as he warned, “I can call him back over here and we can change that.”

“Don’t you dare!” you whispered aggressively, snatching your card when it was handed back. Asuma chuckled, sticking the printout on a large cup.

“One of these days, I swear…” he teased, walking away to pass the cup to Kakashi.

You shook your head, crossing to the other side of the counter to wait for your order.

It only took a few moments for your order to be completed. You watched Kakashi, as you normally did in the open concept kitchen, talk Iruka through the single latte he was making while he blazed through six other drinks in the same time. He reassured him that with practice, he’d become just as fast. You had your doubts.

Asuma placed the thin bag holding what, presumably, was your muffin on the counter, winking at you, before heading directly into some back room a beat before Kakashi finished your drink. Adding the lid, he pushed his silver locks out of his face as he scanned for the missing coworker. He shrugged it off and brought it to the counter himself, calling your name.

“I went ahead and added a little extra sweet cream. I know you think the cold brew is the star, but you looked like you could use a little indulgence, you know?” As he passed you the cup, his fingers brushed yourself and you felt sparks ignite, swallowing hard and focusing on your grip to avoid spilling it.

He checked the wax paper bag next to him, frowning. “You got the blueberry, right?” You nodded, and he grabbed the bag. “Asuma gave you a chocolate chip muffin. Idiot. Give me a sec.”

He took the bag into the back room and returned a moment later, a luxurious smile painted across his face as he handed off the muffin. “Enjoy.”

You thanked him, nodding lightly as you held both items close to your chest.

“I’ll see you soon. Banana nut next time?”

Again, you nodded, feeling yourself flush. “Sounds like a date,” you agreed, a little surprised by your boldness. You caught sight of Asuma, returning to his position behind the register, give you a proud thumbs up. It was progress, at least.

Kakashi carded his fingers through his hair and lingered a beat longer at the counter before one of the metal cups used for steaming milk crashed to the tile ground and he sighed, giving you a small smile and heading back to Iruka. You didn’t envy him, though you were impressed with his patience as a trainer.

Reality seemed to set in a little duller as you left the shop, purchases in hand. Before you let it sink in too far, you admired how the vanilla cream cascaded through the viscous cold brew, tumbling off each block of ice and forming tendrils as it made its way toward the bottom of the cup. You took one drink now, relishing the hit of sugar and vanilla, then twirled the plastic cup in your hand, blending it into a light beige. Now, when you took a sip, it still gave the same satisfying sweetness, but you also got the rich coffee.

The cold brew was great, but it was the extra hit of sweet cream that really did make the drink sing.

You smiled into your cup before remembering the muffin, unfolding the top of the bag. The smell was intoxicating, and you were pleased to find it warm. You pulled it partially out of the bag and took a large bite out of the top. It was excellent, and combined well with the cold brew. It was a solid suggestion from Kakashi, though you felt a pang of emptiness to know that you’d gone another encounter without finding the courage to ask him what he was doing off the clock. Though, you had made decent progress and maybe next time would be what cinched it.

As you made your way back to the safety of your apartment, you tuned the rest of the world out and focused solely on your two treats. You finished the muffin right before arriving, freeing up a hand to unlock your door. Inside, you set down the two-thirds of coffee you had remaining and crumpled the paper bag to throw it in the trash.

However, the bag was weirdly heavy.

Frowning, you smoothed out the wax paper, feeling the square lump in the bottom. You checked inside, sure you had thrown the wrapper away already. Instead, you found what appeared to be an index card, roughly folded twice with delicate, though rushed, writing. The outside had your name spelled out. When you unfolded it, you froze.

It was seven digits, with a hyphen in the middle.

And beneath that:

Be the sweet cream to my cold brew?

-K

#kakashi x reader #kakashi x gn!reader #coffee shop au #kakashi oneshot #kakashi fanfiction

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kim-seungmine · 4 years

Text

moonlit

title: moonlit

characters: fem!reader x lee minho (lee know) of stray kids feat. bang chan, kim seungmin, hwang hyunjin, kid!yang jeongin

genres: exes to lovers au, romance, angst, based on eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, chan’s one sided love if you squint real hard, bff!seungjin.

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking and food, mentions of insecurity/emptiness, minho is lowkey a flirt (and smooth af), this one is WORDY, sometimes nonlinear (flashbacks marked in italics, phase 2 completely happens in the past), lots of inner conflicts, watch me repeat the same words again and again.

word count: 14k

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, you have lee minho clinically erased from your mind... only to be reminded that while memories can be erased and forgotten, feelings will always demand to be felt.

Phase 1: Awakening

You clamp your shaking legs together, desperately trying to look like you’ve got it all together. The carton box on your lap feels heavier with each passing second as you wait for your name to be called. When the receptionist finally tells you to enter the consulting room, your head is full of him. His laugh, his voice, his touches, his smile, his empty promises, his lies, his last words…

This is why you’re doing this. You want him gone.

“Miss Y/N, please have a seat.” The doctor, Seo Changbin, motions at you to sit at the back of the room. A nurse places a tripod in front of you, setting the camera so it will capture your whole body. “Your sessions will be recorded, and we will keep all the recordings as archive. These recordings are confidential unless they’re needed for national security purposes. And, of course, if you wish to get your memories back in the future.”

Dr. Seo smiles, the calming tone in his voice doesn’t match the weight of his words. “You… you can restore the memories back?”

“I can’t,” he answers. “Patients are usually able to remember some past memories when triggered. And at least you will be reminded of why you want to do the erasure procedure in the first place. There are a lot of patients who regret doing this, and the last thing we want is to get sued because people make the wrong choices for themselves. I’m sure you have already read that part on the consent form.”

Great, you’re going to stop him from messing with your head by letting strangers literally damaging your brain.

“I won’t sue you. Let’s get this over with.”

“Sure.” Dr. Seo points at the camera. “Now, tell us everything, starting with who you want to erase.”

You grip your box tighter, as if to check if all the things inside still cause you pain no matter how many times you’ve seen them. You could have done this the normal way—crying, cutting your hair, even turning to God for help.

The thing is, one of these days the pain is going to swallow you up, and then you’ll be left with nothing. Nothing but an empty shell.

You should have been able to do this the normal way, but you’re too weak. Can’t you be weak for once? You can, right?

Clearing your throat, you stare at the lens. “Lee Minho.”

“Lee Minho,” you repeat. Louder. Clearer. “I’d like to erase Lee Minho.”

Chan finishes his beer in one gulp while you’re still struggling to open yours. It’s a shame, really—you drink almost every week, he drinks twice a year. He tosses the now empty can to the trashcan before opening another with ease, handing it to you. Mumbling a quiet thank you, you take a sip and watch him tear a pack of dried squids open.

“You’ll never go to those parties again,” he says. “I didn’t know my parents invited you because of that.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine. They meant well.”

He pulls his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe they said that in front of everyone! You must’ve been so shocked. I’m sorry.”

You grimace, the unwanted attention was indeed quite embarrassing. Enough to make you politely reject the next time Chan’s parents invite you to another gala. Mr. and Mrs. Bang have always been supportive of their eldest son, letting Chan started his own business instead of taking over the family business. Chan’s mother had called you a few days prior, asking you to accompany her son since it would be a good opportunity to “build connection and expand your business.”

You and Chan did exactly that, so it wasn’t like they were lying. But Chan’s parents also used the opportunity to try to convince the two of you that you’re match made in heaven.

“Can we drop this?” You glance at your watch, stretching your limbs before rising from your seat. The traffic light turns red and you signal at your best friend to walk faster. “I keep getting flashbacks of CEO Kang’s son laughing at us.

Chan follows suit, placing his hand at the small of your back before crossing the street. You let out a relieved sigh when you reach the warm subway station. “Kang Younghyun has more embarrassing incidents than ours combined,” he scoffs. “This is nothing compared high school. No worries.”

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asks as you train is arriving. “I should’ve brought the car instead of letting my parents drive us to the party.”

You click your tongue at him. “Then you’ll miss the last train.”

“I can take a cab home. You always fall sleep on the train it’s giving me headache!”

“Bang Chan.”

The train stops and opens its doors. “Fine,” he mumbles. “Just don’t fall asleep.”

“No promises!” you tease, stepping into the train a second before it closes. You wave at Chan until he disappears into a small dot before choosing the seat beside the door. The train is almost empty; standing near the door is a high school student listening to an online lecture and sitting across you is…. the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. He meets your eyes for a second before shifting his attention back to his phone again, leaving you slightly disappointed.

You despise socializing at parties but you want the Hottest Man Alive to talk to you? Y/N you’re so pathetic.

The sight of a bundle of name cards inside your purse is what gives you a reality check, various names and faces are popping up in your mind. Only now you feel how exhausted you are, parties and talking to a bunch of strangers have never been your thing. You take your platform heels off just as the train makes its stop, one of them almost hitting Hottest Man Alive as a result.

Apparently God has decided to make you the embarrassment icon of the day.

“I’m so sorry!” you panic, about to reach your flying heel when he stands up and picks it up. He silently places it in front of you before pulling out a card out of his pocket.

“It’s okay, just check out our café when you have time.” Hottest Man Alive slips the card into your palm, rendering you speechless with his bashful smile.

Oh, you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

You run your eyes over the black embossed letters once more, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat as you mentally convince yourself that he does want you to pay his café a visit. Your whole life has always been normal, so alarmingly calm and peaceful it makes you question your whole existence. Sometimes it feels like you’re living in someone else’s dream, foreign and temporary. Uncertain and insecure.

Last night was… weird, to say the least. You’ve never felt that attracted to someone before, not even your ex-boyfriends. In that moment, you felt unstoppable, carefree, happy… everything that wasn’t you.

Sadly, that moment didn’t last long and now you’re back to your overthinking self. What if he was just playing with you? Will he find you desperate or, God forbid, easy if you actually show up at his café? But what café owners don’t want a new customer? Besides, you’re bringing Chan, so Hottest Man Alive (or Lee Minho, according to his name card) is getting two new customers. If anything, he will be thanking you and hoping you will come again, just like any normal business owner.

“Hey,” Chan calls out to you, knocking on the car window. “We’re here, daydreamer.”

You shove the card back into your wallet, met with Chan’s confused eyes when you finally open the door. “You okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You look so out of it.”

Chan knows nothing about your encounter with Hottest Man Alive; he would’ve freaked out if he knew you wanted to visit a café because a random (handsome) stranger told you so. “Just thirsty. It’s so hot,” you mumble.

Eat Here Café gives off the homey atmosphere that immediately calms your nerves. You quickly scan the whole building, looking for any sign of Hottest Man Alive. You feel lighter yet bummed that he’s not there, except for some photos of him with a group of children pinned on the wall.

You choose a table near the cashier. “I’ll order. What do you want?”

Chan shrugs. “Any kind of cake.”

The puppy-like part timer greets you with a smile when you reach the counter. “Good afternoon, what would you like to order?”

“Injeolmi bingsu and Coke, please. Oh, and a vanilla cake!”

He repeats your order politely and you decide that you like the boy, taking a glance at his nametag that says Kim Seungmin. You never really pay attention to part timers before, but this one is remarkably efficient, polite, and very very cute (in a “I’d like to adopt him!” way).

You drop some cash into the tipping jar, the twinkle in Seungmin’s eyes feels so rewarding that you’re ready to put it into your “little things that made my day” on your journal later. He hands you the buzzer with a bright smile. “Please wait for your order!”

“Your stingy ass never gives such a generous tip. Did he flirt with you or something?” Chan marvels—loud enough to get Seungmin’s attention—when you return to your table. There are times when you regret being Chan’s business partner, but you realize that you’ve invested so much of your time and energy into building the company. That, and Chan is actually a dependable friend when he’s not trying to ruin your image.

Chan gets your order after the buzzer vibrates, digging into his cake right away. “Whoa this is good!” he exclaims. “How did you find this place?”

“…Instagram.”

“Do you think they hired a branding consultant already?”

You shake your head. “They post pretty regularly but I don’t think so.”

Chan’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think we should ask to meet the owner or something?”

“Hey Seungmin, iced Americano please! And remind me to pay your bonus later.”

The faintly familiar voice stops you from answering, your eyes wildly searching for the source. And there he is… the one you’ve been dreading to meet and also the one you’ve been yearning to meet. Lee Minho saunters into the café with his charming bunny smile and soft eyes, earning everyone’s attention except for Seungmin who’s still taking orders.

Seungmin only replies with a short hum, not taking his eyes off the cash register. You glance at Minho, mentally surprised by the way he doesn’t seem to be bothered with how Seungmin treats him.

“Quit staring before you start embarrassing yourself,” Chan warns you in the most boring tone. “I think he’s the owner.”

You almost spit out your drink. “I’m not staring!”

Minho exchanges some words with Seungmin before focusing his attention to all the customers. Your bingsu is melting, but you still follow his every move through your peripheral vision, not knowing whether you want him to recognize you.

“You really came!”

Chan points at himself, then at you. “Us?”

Minho shifts his gaze to Chan like he didn’t even notice the dimpled man was there whole time.

“Ah… y-yes,” you stutter. “This is very a nice café.”

One look at Chan and you know there’s no way for you to hide anymore. “He invited me!” you quip. “I mean, us.”

“Do you have anyone handling your social media accounts? Planning the digital marketing? Creating ads?” You have bombarded Minho with questions before Chan says anything, skipping the whole small talk step in “how to smoothly intrigue clients” manual.

Seungmin arrives with Minho’s iced Americano, putting the tall glass in front of him with no words before smiling at you and Chan. “Does any of you want anything else?”

“Yes, please,” Minho interrupts before you can refuse. “Please order whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

“Pulling the boss card, huh?” Chan jokes. “Then I’ll have orange juice.”

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have a chance to try the vanilla cake Chan ordered because he inhales food instead of digesting them, but the chocolate ice cream looks beyond tempting—

Minho chuckles. “How about our vanilla and chocolate ice cream?”

“Did I say that out loud?” you mumble to yourself, but proceed to thank Minho for his suggestions and tell Seungmin you’d like to have those. Minho flashes you a soft smile, almost making you melt on the spot if it weren’t for Chan’s leg kicking yours.

The conversation continues without any embarrassing incident. Chan lets you do all the talking, only adding further details when necessary while Minho asks you challenging but intriguing questions you answer passionately.

The so-called meeting ends with Minho promising to sign the contract by next week and Chan shaking your hand under the table, both confused and impressed.

“Is that why your employees are so relaxed around you? Because you just want everyone to eat and live well? I swear Seungmin didn’t even try to curse discreetly when you told him to wipe the counter for the 5th time,” you ask.

Minho laughs as the said boy exits his station, backpack slung across his shoulder. “Yes I’ll transfer your money after our guests leave. Don’t you dare remind me again!” the former yells playfully before the part timer opens his mouth. Seungmin bows to you and Chan before scowling at his boss. “You’re the one who told me to—nevermind. See you tomorrow, hyung.”

“I really like that boy,” you coo when Seungmin closes the door.

“I treat them as my friends,” Minho says. “I decided to do this because I just want to help everyone, including my employees. I don’t want Eat Here to be one of those expensive, pretentious cafes. I just want everyone to eat what they want, that’s why we have all sorts of things here. Combination of Eastern and Western, stuff like that. But this is still business, I have to do things to keep it running, right?”

You’ve met a lot of people with beautiful visions, but you’ve never met someone who wants something so simple yet complicated like Minho. It’s been quite a long time since you’re genuinely excited for a project, and now you know why Chan didn’t freak out upon knowing that you met Minho on the train.

“You guys can do whatever you want,” Minho adds, waving to a pair of part timers clocking in. “Are you going back to the office?”

Chan stretches his limbs. “Yeah,” he groans. “Gotta make sure our intern doesn’t jam the printer again.”

Your phone rings the moment Chan finishes his sentence. ”You jinxed it! Hyunjin is calling.”

“Whatever it is, wait until we’re back!” you whisper-yell at your intern.

“But noona, the printer—”

You give Hyunjin no chance to blabber about one specific printer and end the call. Minho giggles at your antiques, and you don’t have the energy to stop yourself from admiring his pretty features in the most obvious ways possible.

Chan pats your back before grabbing his phone and stands up. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.”

“Take these.” Minho writes your name on one of the paper bags, handing them to you with a big smile. “For everyone at your office. Thanks for reaching out to us.”

You peek inside the bag that has your name scribbled on it, not surprised to see both vanilla and chocolate ice cream inside—it’s the clear bottle that you’re curious about.

“Bye! I’ll send you the gym’s contact later!” Your best friend slash business partner waves at your new client slash crush from the driver’s seat. You take out the bottle, it’s filled with sikhye.

Your favorite drink, but Minho isn’t supposed to know that.

“Everyone deserves a fresh start. Don’t let anyone from your past haunt you. Start Erasure now.”

Minho mutes the television, heaving a sigh as he recounts his fateful meeting with you yesterday. The world has always been rather weird, he would say, but nothing defeats meeting his ex-girlfriend—his first love—who has no recollection of your time together. He heard from his former classmates that you sent them a message a few years ago, informing them that you would undergo the erasure procedure. According to his friends, you specifically told them to “never ever mention Lee Minho’s name or ask you about the procedure.”

You’re back in his life now, happy as ever, and the last thing Minho wants is breaking your heart all over again. He no longer owns that special spot in your heart, you owe him nothing. He left you insecure, disappointed and soulless, and now it’s his turn to be haunted by all the questions and what ifs in his mind.

His phone vibrates as soon as he flips the signage open, your name flashing on his screen. “Hey Y/N what’s up?”

“Minho I can’t multitask so please give me quick and accurate answer. I’m at the traffic light in front of Lotte now—”

“You need to turn left.”

“Okay… didn’t know my non-existent sense of direction is that obvious — damn, let me change lanes.”

Minho suppresses a chuckle. You’ve always been bad with directions.

“Turn left once more, and you’ll find us. We’re right across the first G25 store on the street.”

He steps out the café to welcome you when he spots a white Kia arriving. In contrast to his horrifying memories of teaching you to drive, you manage to parallel-park your car smoothly in 10 seconds, stopping Minho from offering to help you park your car.

“Sorry,” you grimace. “I suck at directions. Last week was the first time I went here and Chan was the one driving so I wasn’t really paying attention… and before you ask, no I can’t use GPS while driving. I barely managed to dial your number.”

Minho lifts his hands. “I was just going to say hello.”

“Oh, good! People always judge me for that!”

You don’t let him respond as you point at the photos on the wall. “Tell me about them!” you request. “Our photographer Hyunjin is going to be here any minute, and we’ll give this corner a special attention. Your customers need to know this.”

Minho scratches his head bashfully, the glint of admiration in your eyes is making him a bit dizzy. It’s been a long time since you looked at him like that. “Uhh, okay. These are the kids I’m supporting, they live in Africa,” he starts. “I hope I can visit them someday, but they’ve been sending me letters, saying thank you... telling me about their days and all.”

“Wow!” you marvel. “How does it feel? To receive such lovely letters?”

“Honestly, it kinda makes me feel like a parent,” he replies. “It feels wonderful.”

Moving onto the next set of photos, his smile grows wider. “I teach these kids dancing, sometimes taekwondo. They’re all very sweet, especially the maknae, Yang Jeongin.” Minho points at a boy with contagious smile. “He can be a brat sometimes, but everyone loves him.”

“Is this an orphanage? Can I meet them?” you blurt out.

“Of course! You’ll love them to bits.”

“You have to come back with Y/N noona!”

A few weeks later, Minho took you to the orphanage. You played with the kids all day and watched him teach them dance. You thought the kids wouldn’t like you as much, but now they’re trying to persuade you to stay the night.

“Aww, of course I’ll come back. Be a good boy, and we’ll be back sooner than you thought!”

Yang Jeongin, the youngest boy in the orphanage, has done everything to make you stay. If it weren’t for your “adult responsibilities,” you would have caved in because nothing could beat his puppy eyes and hopeful smile.

“Alright, go back inside, everyone. All of you need to sleep.”

The kids grumble at Minho’s command, slowly walking back to the main hall. After making sure no one sneaks out to follow you, the two of you make a stop at a nearby park that Minho claims to be the perfect place to admire the moon.

“Okay, you’re not lying. The moon does look pretty from here.”

The man sitting beside you smirks in satisfaction. “I never stay too long but I always like spending time here. Now that I think about it, you kinda resemble the moonlight.”

The switch of the mood has you cackling. “Aren’t everything about the moon associated with werewolves and murders? You’re expecting me to fall for such a lame pickup line?”

“That’s not how I see it.” Minho disagrees. “I think you’re radiant, bright but not blinding. Take it as a compliment.”

The word radiant strikes you light a lightning, forces you to face the harsh reality that you’re doing a really good job in hiding the hollowness inside—all the lingering questions and uneasiness. You’re far from being the light Minho admires.

“Trust me, I’m not radiant whatsoever.”

Minho stiffens, observing you carefully until you feel brave enough to look at him. At first, you see pity in his eyes, but it morphs into something that feels too good to be true. You find tranquil in his gaze, so serene that you nearly let your tears fall.

He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together before pulling you up from your seat. “I’ll tell you whenever you’re being the moonlight that you are,” he promises, his voice is a perfect mix between sincerity and mischief. “Prepared to get sick of me because I’ll remind you everyday.”

Just because most people often cross the line doesn’t mean that being able to exert self-control when needed is something to be proud about, but Minho has always thought of it as his positive trait.

He’s going to cross it out of the list today.

His hand is still holding yours tightly, chatting away with a lopsided smile on his face. And yours. This wasn’t what he intended to do, but life loves to play God and tests him the moment he thinks he knows what he’s doing. Giving you his name card on the train has spiraled into taking you home hand-in-hand, peppering kisses on your temple when you become too cute to handle (which is almost all the damn time) and falling in love with you all over again. What happened in the subway impulsive and dumb, but he couldn’t control himself. He wanted to see you again, he longed to talk to you.

Minho just wanted a second chance to be good to you, but will things ever be enough? How will he make things right again? Providing you free coffee and say thank you for your visit? It was a selfish wish he shouldn’t have acted upon.

“We must’ve crossed paths somehow. There’s no way that we’ve never met before!” you say, swinging your intertwined hands happily.

It’s too late. History repeats itself, but Minho’s too far gone to stop. He’s trying to feel it, the need to exert self-control—he can’t.

“I didn’t come home often,” he lies, every word feels like knife stabbing his heart. You hum in response, a yawn escaping from your mouth as both of you are nearing your unit. Minho watches you enter the door password, mouthing the numbers silently, 2 3 0 9. Your grandma’s birthday. It’s always been your password for everything—phone, laptop, even Minho’s old apartment since you were the one who set it for him. It stays with him until this very day although he no longer lives in the same apartment.

You tug at his sleeve. “Come on in.”

Your stuffs are pretty much the same, if not exactly the same as a few years ago. The only things missing were those related to him. Polaroid photos of you together, the umbrella he left at your place, the mug he…. wait.

The purple mug Minho bought for you is sitting on the kitchen counter, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. Did you forget to get rid of it before the procedure?

“Let me go change first,” you tell him. “Feel free to grab any snack. There’s cold water and beer in the fridge.”

He can barely answer as you disappear into your room. Memories start flooding his mind, it feels as if he finally finds all the folders with your name on them that he tried so hard to bury, stashed in the deepest part of his heart.

Those memories were so painfully beautiful he has to bite his lip to prevent his tears from falling.

“Oh that’s my favorite mug!”

You’re back, dressed in the black loose T-shirt you always wear during summers. Minho’s eyes automatically dart to your left shoulder, spotting the hole on the shirt that exposes a part of your shoulder.

Another thing that hasn’t changed. Another thing that makes you the you he knew. Another thing that diminishes his self-control into nothing because you have no idea how much he loved to—

“Minho?”

You cradle this face softly, wiping the tears he didn’t know he shed. Confusion and panic reflected in your irises. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” He touches his cheek before attempting to laugh. “Something probably went into my eyes...”

“Let me see.” Before he refuses, you’ve taken a step closer, gently blowing into his eyes. “Better? Want some eye drop?”

Minho shakes his head, removing your hands from his face and plants a kiss on your forehead. Another mistake that feels so right. “I guess I’m just tired. Is it okay if we chat some other time?”

You mumble an okay, following him to the front door. When he turns the door knob, you reach for his hand. “Hey,” you murmur, slowly examining his face. Minho tries to read yours in return, sensing your hesitation. He waits for a good minute patiently, letting you form words in your head.

“What are we? These things we’ve been doing… what do they mean to you? Does this mean we’re…”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more directed to yourself than him, and Minho understands what you’re talking about. He tightens his grip on the knob, desperately begging himself to stop all of this. You don’t deserve another heartbreak when you’ve done everything to continue living.

You’re a whole new person, yet you remain the one he adored. How can you be so different yet familiar? How can you be so… dearly you?

“Minho, does this mean that we’re—”

Minho throws his arms around you, burying his head into the crook your neck before slowly trailing his lips towards the exposed part of your shoulder. You have no idea how much he loves leaving kisses there, on that particular spot. As strange as it sounds, it gives him the strength and hope he needs. Minho never told you this; you’ll never be able to imagine how happy and relieved he currently feels when he plants one, two, three, countless kisses that set his whole being on fire.

“We are,” he whispers, dropping one last kiss before pulling you even closer, enveloping your body in his embrace.

There’s only one thing in Minho’s head now: love. He can only think about loving you better than before, and in this moment nothing can stop him from doing so because whether he likes the old you or the new you doesn’t matter anymore.

Minho just loves you, and he doesn’t want to think about anything else. Not even his selfishness. And especially not your future heartbreak.

“You’re so precious, Y/N. You’re so precious to me.”

Hyunjin is the only one at the office when you arrive. He’s busy with his camera, changing its setting every now and then before capturing random things on his desk. You and Chan were on the fence about hiring him at first since you’re just a small company and he’s a student with high expectations. However, Hyunjin turns out to be the one of the most eager apprentices ever, and you’re going to bawl your eyes out when his internship ends next month.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, only earning a distracted “Huh?” as an answer.

“Hyunjin, don’t forget to go over the photoshoot details with me before we leave later, okay?”

He lifts his head a little this time. “Okay. Let me just finish trying out this new technique Seungmin taught me.”

You chuckle, snapping a photo of your intern yelling at his camera when he messes up. Sending it to Chan, you write, “We should give him a raise.”

Your phone rings a few seconds later, frowning when Chan’s urgent voice greets you. “I’m inside my car. Can we talk?”

“Whoa, relax. What happened?”

“Y/N, please. Just come out for a sec.”

No one wants to start a fight with Chan when he’s talking in that tone, so you inform Hyunjin you’re stepping out for a bit. Chan’s sedan is parked right in front of the building, his conflicted face prompts you to enter the car right away.

“You told me there’s something weird about Minho but now you’re dating him? And you’re hiding it from me?” he deadpans without waiting for you to close the door.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” you murmur. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Chan sighs in exasperation. “Why do you think you owe me an explanation? I’m your best friend, not your mother. How is Minho different from any other guy you’ve dated that you really tried to keep it a secret from me?”

You gulp. “Things between Minho and I… it’s different. I thought I knew what liking someone felt like, but after meeting him I realized I knew nothing about it. Everything feels so overwhelmingly wonderful and insanely intense I think I may fall apart if I start talking about it.”

Your best friend gives you a knowing look, but says nothing as he stares at a random stranger walking down the street. “And I know you’re not really fond of him so I was trying to look for the perfect timing to tell you. Sorry.”

“I just want to keep you safe. This guy knows small details about you that even I didn’t know. Are you sure you never met him before?”

He pauses, taking a deep breath before adding, “Did you do that erasure procedure?”

“How am I supposed to know?” you snap. “Isn’t forgetting about the whole thing the point of the procedure?”

“You love him, don’t you?” Chan’s voice is soft this time, but his words hit you right in the gut you have to stop yourself from flinching. Hearing someone say that they love you is scary, admitting that you are in love is a hundred times scarier.

Taking your silence as a yes, Chan turns on the engine. “Look, the last thing I want is seeing you sad. It breaks me, more than you know. So please consider trying to find out the truth. How are you going to love him if you don’t trust him? How is he going to love you if he keeps you in the dark?”

You lean your head against the window, watching your best friend dialing Hyunjin’s number to tell him that both of you will be back after lunch.

“We better be quick,” Chan says. “Hyunjin’s terrified he will have to answer Mr. Song’s call again.”

“We should definitely give him a raise.”

“Oh we will,” he snickers. “If he survives Mr. Song’s call.”

“You’re cruel.”

For the first time in your life, you feel like a ruling queen inside your island instead of a trapped princess. You know every nook, every secret passage, every hidden treasure that nobody else has ever explored. Everything feels real for once, you’re in control and you want to stay here forever.

Eat Here has gained more regular customers since you and Chan started handling its social media accounts, and the face-splitting grin on Minho’s face whenever a new customer pushes the door open makes you feel proud and giddy at the same time.

You weren’t able to witness your Hottest Man Alive greeting his customers happily today, but you promised to pay him a visit at the café. It’s a few minutes past 10, meaning the café has closed for the day, so you were prepared to see everyone cleaning up. To you surprise, there’s nobody inside when you arrive.

“Minho?”

Your boyfriend waves from inside the pantry. “Coming!”

Moments later, he comes out with a tray of food. Gesturing at you to take a seat, he places a bowl of potato salad, a pot of kimchi jjigae and some side dishes. “Wait, let me get some more.”

You recall your phone conversation 2 hours ago, vaguely remembering telling Minho that you haven’t had dinner. When he serves the last batch of side dishes and a bottle of sikhye, you tease him for being so sweet.

“I’m not being sweet though?” He pulls out a chair for himself, watching you eat with content eyes. “You said you were starving, so I prepared you some food.”

You shrug, letting him pour sikhye into your glass. “I just never expected that you’re someone who…”

“… cooks?” he finishes for you. “I just did the bare minimum. Do you really want to see me being sweet?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Minho clears his throat, the way he stares at you makes you fidget in your seat. Only God knows what’s inside this man’s mind. One second he’s nonchalant and cool, then he’s Mr. Flirty and makes you all swoony.

Patting his thigh, he smiles at you. “Come here baby.”

You shake your head in fear of completely losing your sanity. “No. What are you trying to do?”

“Being the most romantic boyfriend ever. Come on.”

Minho tries his best to suppress his laugh as you finally settle yourself on his lap, not sure whether you should rest your head on his shoulder or peck his lips or marvel at how firm his thighs are... damn it Y/N, what are you? 17?

Although you’re just sitting there like a log, Minho looks unbothered and reaches for the chocolate cake. He slices it into smaller bites, taking a piece of it with the fork before telling you to open your mouth. “If you still want ice cream then we can get some on the way home.”

“I’ve had enough ice cream for today. I went to this cute ice cream parlor with Chan.”

You take the plate from him, stuffing yourself with the rest of the cake. Minho’s soft pats on your shoulder and the sweet taste of chocolate seem to flush all the initial awkwardness from your system.

Another hour passes with you curling up on Minho’s lap, the latter listening to your little speech about how grateful you are for vending machines as if you’re talking about world peace. Your back hurts and his thighs ache but the way your head nestles in the crook of his neck and the way he pecks your cheek every few minutes are enough of a spell to trap both of you in this exact moment, where lies, doubts and regrets cease to exist.

You wake up with a jolt, reaching for your water bottle on the bedside table. It’s surreal for a dream to feel that real—it almost felt like a memory, something distant but present nonetheless. You’re sure that was the younger Minho you saw in the dream instead of the one you know, and before you come to a realization that it’s currently 2AM, you’re already dialing his number.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “Hmmm my moonlight, missed me?”

His sleepy voice causes you to blush, definitely not seeing that coming. “Nothing.” You wince at your parched voice. “I just had a dream.”

Minho lets out a low laugh, you can hear him sitting up on his bed. “About me?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Tell me about it.”

You sink into your bed, heaving a sigh you forget to hide. “It’s complicated.”

“Was it a bad dream?” Minho’s voice is firm but oh so calming that you start recounting every detail you can remember. He listens to you attentively, humming once in a while, and your muscles are all relaxed now. Minho is here, listening to your bullshit in the wee hours of the morning. Minho is here, calling you his moonlight with the most caring tone ever.

“I miss you,” he declares the moment you finish talking. “Can I come over?”

“All of sudden? Minho, it’s 2AM.” You glance at the clock. “Wait, it’s 2:18 now.”

“Then I’ll be there at 3AM.”

“But—”

He hangs up, and you just sit there until Minho enters your room at 3AM sharp, taking in your dumfounded state before plopping himself onto the bed and pulling you close. “I’m here,” he sweetly says and you can only nod, eyes boring into his as he runs his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I like you, exactly the way you like me. I like you more.”

You shake your head, burying your head in the crook of his neck to hide your red cheeks. “It was just a dream,” he adds, enunciating each word like a mantra. Closing your eyes, you repeat his words again and again inside your head, traces of pain from the dream still crawling up your skin as Minho’s sweet praises lull you to sleep.

“I’m sorry but that’s classified information. We cannot mention anything about our patients.”

“But she did the procedure because of me! I’m the one she erased!”

“That only gives us more reasons to forbid you from obtaining any information. It’s our policy to protect our patients, especially after the procedure is done.”

Minho wonders how this sullen kid managed to land the job, but bites his tongue before he really gets kicked out. He takes one deep breath before pleading at so-called receptionist (his name is Kim Seungmin but he could care less) once again. “May I at least know whether she was in so much pain?”

Seungmin fixes his glasses. “People her age mostly spend their money on traveling or whatever cool things they want to do, but she chose to have her memories manipulated so she wouldn’t have to remember you. I think that’s enough of an explanation.”

It’s no big deal, Minho tells himself. It’s normal for people to have the Erasure procedure thesedays. In fact, it’s become so normal that no one bothers to talk about it anymore. Erasure is simply another way to move on, just like Love Alarm is another way to detect love. If you decided that your memories together weren’t precious enough to keep in your heart, so be it. If he hurt you that much but you chose to erase him instead of confronting him, then it’s your loss.

Exactly. Was he that bad? Did he hurt you that much?

“Excuse me, Sir?” Seungmin is already standing by the door. “I think it’s better for you to leave.”

“Alright.” Minho lifts his hands in defeat, starting to feel bad for the poor boy who’s just trying to keep his job. “Hang in there, kid.”

“Congratulations, you just earned a VIP pass to Hell.”

Eat Here is doing well, the kids he’s supporting are starting school soon and he finally gets to return the feelings of the girl he loves the most but yes, Seungmin is right. The gates of Hell are open for Minho.

“Right,” he scoffs. “As if you didn’t greet people with a smile and convinced them that erasure was the best solution for all their problems.”

Seungmin grits his teeth; talks about Dr. Seo Changbin’s Erasure Centre are never easy for both of them. For Seungmin, it reminds him of all the pain, rage and guilt he thought he was used to seeing. For Minho, it reminds him of his selfishness and failure to make you happy.

“The erasure did help a lot of people though,” the puppy-eyed boy trails off. “It’s been years yet I’m still torn between wanting the procedure to perish and thanking it for saving lives.”

“Maybe it does save people. But then there’s Y/N.”

“And you,” Seungmin adds.

Minho chuckles. “And you.”

“Are you just gonna wait until she realizes that those dreams actually happened?”

A long silence looms over them until Seungmin slides a clear CD case along the counter. “I guess it’s time to reveal how I risked my life for you the day I quit my job there.”

A label with your name is plastered on it along with the logo of the centre. It’s the answer to all his questions when he first met Seungmin. The sole proof that everything between the two of you happened.

“I can get sued anytime,” the part-timer warns jokingly. “So use it well, and don’t cry. She said some hurtful things, but you deserved it anyways.”

“Do you think it could last another hour?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo and tells the models to get a 5-minute break. “Do you want an honest answer or an intern-can-make-anything-happen answer?” he whispers at you while checking his shots.

You’re currently at a photoshoot in Gyeongju with a client you desperately need to impress, but your clumsiness just had to choose today to get in action. Chan was almost furious when you told him you left all the cameras’ charging cables at Minho’s apartment.

“So we’re fucked up,” you conclude. “How many outfits are left?”

“Including this one… three.”

“We’re so fucked up,” you correct yourself, approaching Chan to relay the expected bad news when a familiar car arrives at the villa. You barely hear Hyunjin muttering, “God is a male… for today…” before rushing to take the black duffel bag from Minho’s hand. He only smiles when you tell him he’s getting all the hugs and kisses later.

The photoshoot continues smoothly; allowing you, Chan and Hyunjin actually breathe after 5 hours trying to make the cameras’ batteries last as long as possible.

“I’m so sorry Chan,” you sigh.

He lets out a weak chuckle. “It’s fine. The problem’s solved anyways.”

“No thanks to me.”

“Thanks to you.” Chan glances at your boyfriend who’s leaning on his car, watching you from afar. “Minho brought the chargers, but you were the one who made him drive all the way here. You need to stop underestimating his feelings for you.”

You let Chan’s words sink in, eyes meeting Minho’s in the process. For a split second you forget about everything’s that’s been bugging you, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in his affection for you.

“Do you trust Minho now?”

Chan puts his hand inside his pocket, exhaling softly. “I know he’s crazy for you Y/N, I’m not dense. But does that mean he’s being honest with you?”

Hyunjin snaps one last photo that marks the end of the shoot, giving you a reason not to respond to Chan, jogging towards the models instead. “Thank you, everyone!” You bow to them. “There are some snacks left inside so please eat before you go, or you may take them home.”

You can still feel Minho’s eyes on you, following you wherever you run with the sweetest kind of fondness that makes it hard for you to question him. He’s like a prince who comes from another kingdom after crossing the long bridge and fighting in the wild forest. He stands there in front of your castle, waiting for you to deem him worthy of your love, of you.

How do you say no to that?

But how do you know if he sees you the way you feel he does?

After that night, you’ve had other dreams—the ones you never told him—each dream etched itself into your mind, filling in the empty spaces slowly but surely. They become a part of you so naturally that you’re convinced you somehow lived them.

“What are you thinking about?”

Minho has just finished loading the last box of props into Chan’s car trunk, now waiting for you to break your train of thoughts with an amused smile. You barely hear Chan and Hyunjin saying goodbye before they enter the car, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Minho’s smile is long gone, his expression mirroring yours: confused, lost, a bit scared. “Are you okay?”

Even your 18 year-old self knew what to do then. A bit late, but she did it. The thought of embracing her as a part of you is making you nauseous, the acknowledgement of having a past you don’t remember is disturbingly scary.

“Those dreams... they were real, right? Those are my memories.”

Your stomach churns when Minho nods, surprisingly calmer than you expected. He pulls out a CD out of his bag, carefully slipping it into your hand. The thin plastic feels heavy in your hold, the world as you know it crumbling at the realization that this Lee Minho was the same boy who had your heart in his palm and broke it.

“I tried to picture this situation in my head every single day, but never had the courage to actually tell you. I’m so sorry Y/N. For everything, then and now.”

Lee Minho, the one who sees you as his moonlight, was also the one whose heart could never be yours.

“I’m Lee Minho. We’re both from Gimpo, and we met at high school. We were best friends, then sometime during 11th grade we started dating. You were this amazing, lovely girl who wore your heart on your sleeves, and I was the asshole who failed to realize how blessed I was to have you.”

Minho pauses to look into your eyes, the sorrow in his orbs triggers the tears you refuse to shed. “I became your boyfriend because I didn’t want to lose you,” he continues. “I was stupid, wasn’t I? Stupid and inconsiderate. All I had to do was tell you how I felt…”

"B-but why?” you sob. “Y-you l-lied to me, Minho. Again.”

“I did. Fuck. I did,” he admits. “You have every right to never ever forgive me. But Y/N, I never meant to play with your feelings. I was too late, but I loved you then. I love you now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to love anyone else even if I try.”

Phase 2: Forgotten Days

“A mug?”

Minho hums as an answer while copying your English homework in a speed of light, failing to answer your questions about why, out of all things he could buy in Japan, he decided to gift you a mug. You let out a huff when he leaves your next question hang in the air (“How did you know that I needed a new mug?”), but lets him be since the bell will ring in 15 minutes.

The purple mug is quite heavy and somehow that makes your heart flutter. Minho gave all the other classmates green tea Kit Kats and keychains, but he was willing to fit the bulky mug into his tiny suitcase for you.

You don’t know what’s going on inside his head most of the time, for all you know he could’ve bought the mug because he forgot to buy something for you and decided to grab the first thing in sight. It’s just a little gift, something you should just appreciate without thinking too much about it, but you can’t help but wonder. Sometimes you feel sorry for yourself for overanalyzing Minho’s every little gesture, trying to guess how much he likes you.

“I’m done!” Minho exclaims, returning your book before grabbing his wallet. He finally looks into your eyes, smiling at you as he ruffles your hair. “Gotta grab some snacks. You want anything? Strawberry milk? Chips?”

When he comes back with both although you told him you only wanted chips, Minho argues that he knows you’ll get hungry in the middle of lessons. Again, it shouldn’t feel so special, but he’s looking at you now, you and no one else. Lee Minho is like an enigma, but at times like this, you bask in his bright smile and everything is forgotten.

Summer is the enemy you’ve managed to beat every single year, but combine the scorching heat with excruciating cramps and you don’t stand a chance. You peek into the practice room once again, but Minho is still practicing his dance routines, his phone laid neglected at the corner of the room. The supposed-to-be 30 minutes practice turns into an hour, and you decide to just wait outside since you don’t have energy to go home on your own.

The door opens when you’re on the verge of passing out, luckily someone has caught you before you collapse on the floor. “Y/N,” Minho’s voice forces you to open your eyes. “What happened?”

“… cramps…”

He lifts you and dashes to the infirmary without saying anything else, yelling at some other students to “fucking move!” while trying not to trip over his undone shoelaces. You try to tell him that you’re alright, just a little tired from enduring the pain but he gives you no chance to talk.

Minho finally stays still after kicking the infirmary’s door to no avail. He makes no other attempt to open the door, slowly making eye contact with your drowsy eyes. You love seeing fire in Minho’s eyes, especially when he dances or plays with his friends. This is the first time Minho sees you with such intensity, but this is not the passionate flame you’ve been craving to see. This fire is destructive, painful. It breaks your heart that he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the source of all unfortunate events that happens in his life.

You feel like you’re the unfortunate event in his life, and the thought is enough to make you break free from his bruising grip, pushing the door open yourself.

“Go back to practice,” you tell him, sitting on one of the beds. “I’ll lie down for a bit then go home.”

Minho rummages through the medicine cupboard, taking a painkiller pill and fills an empty glass with warm water. “Drink this, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Minho…”

He shakes his head. “You’re sick and I’m taking you home.”

Too weak to argue, you swallow the pill and let him walk you home. Minho keeps his hand around your shoulder the whole time, not even bothering to check his ringing phone. He doesn’t talk to you either, and at this rate the silence is more concerning than your cramps.

“Can you go up on your own?” he murmurs when you reach your apartment building. “I have to go back to school, but I’ll stop by later.”

You only nod, about to wave him goodbye when he reaches for your arm. “Wait.”

Minho cups your face, pressing his lips on yours and stealing your breath away. Soon, he starts kissing you harder, but his lips still feel cold against yours and he still feels so faraway even when he’s gripping your waist like his life depends on it.

“Minho,” you manage to rasp, cradling his face to stop him from planting another kiss on your lips. He opens his eyes, staring at you with those beautiful eyes that, sadly, never really shine for you. “Your friends are waiting.”

Still panting, Minho gives you a nod before pulling away. The fire you saw in his eyes earlier has died out.

As you watch him walk away, you finally realize that you’ve been asking yourself the wrong question. It’s not about how much Minho likes you, it’s about whether he likes you at all.

If Minho could choose only one person to be with for the rest of his life, he would choose you. He enjoyed watching movies with you, he loved sending his silly selfies to you, he always wanted to end a tiring day by talking to you all night long.

He can still do that, you’re still his friend. The only difference is that he can hug and kiss you and tell other people that he’s yours. Minho doesn’t know why he lets the words “boyfriend and girlfriend” change the dynamics between the two of you, but it’s too late to undo everything.

“Can we just be friends again?” he repeats the question in his head over and over, yet he can never voice it out. The look in your eyes will be too devastating for him to bear, and he will you lose you forever.

“I’m outside,” he tells you over the phone, trying not to flinch at your excited “Oh!”

A few minutes later, you step out of the elevator, walking towards him with big steps.

“Feeling better?” he asks, noting the way your eyes light up at the question.

“Hmm. I took a short nap and it’s gone.”

Minho sighs. “Don’t wait for me next time. If I take too long, you can just go home. I’m sorry that I let you wait around like that.”

The last sentence causes you to lower your gaze, seemingly self-conscious with the fact that he forgot you were waiting for him. “Bought you some ice cream,” Minho says, trying to distract you from your thoughts. “Chocolate, vanilla, mint choco, it’s all there.”

“As an apology?” you half-tease, the tinge of sadness in your voice causes Minho’s heart to clench a little.

He quickly pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. “Yes and no,” he murmurs into your hair. Part of him is relieved when you don’t question his answer, only humming against his chest before wrapping your arms around him. It’s so easy to make you happy and it angers him. You’re too kind. Too patient. Too loyal. You’re too in love with him, and it hurts not being able to feel the same.

But as the warmth of your body starts to comfort his senses, Minho realizes this is where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, no matter what the labels are. “If you miss the last bus you’re gonna have to walk all the way home,” you remind him, voice muffled since neither of you wants to let go.

“One more minute,” he replies, fingers playing with the hole on your shirt. He places one feathery kiss there, a silent promise that he’s going to try his best loving you. The one promise that could have made you stay, but it remained unsaid until the day you left him.

“Surprise!”

Minho lets out a yelp, coughing up confetti that you pop right in front of face. His parents, standing a few steps behind you, are giggling at their son’s reaction. “I thought you had to go somewhere with your mom!” he exclaims, the surprise in his eyes is now replaced by confusion and… annoyance?

You quietly step aside, letting him shake off the confetti as you’re trying to find your voice. Minho’s parents don’t seem to notice the tension, laughing and explaining that they invited you over for the family birthday dinner.

His mother ushers both of you to the dining room where the feast awaits. “After all this time you still haven’t introduced Y/N to Soonie!” she protests jokingly while the said cat is purring at you. Coming over to Minho’s house without his knowledge sounded like a terrible idea right from the start, but now you really wish you had turned the offer down. The birthday boy only pats you on the back before telling you to sit down, and you spend the rest of the dinner conversing without ever looking at each other in the eyes. That’s no surprise, what surprises you is the fact that you don’t even bother trying to get him look at you.

After 2 years, you’re finally tired of waiting for Minho to love you.

“Soonie doesn’t usually like strangers,” Minho says as you’re walking to the bus stop. “But he really likes you.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Like me. Do you like me?”

Minho chuckles. “What kind of question is that?”

Words are bubbling inside your head, all emotions threatening to spill out you have to literally swallow them down. It feels like the world has come to a stop—the realization that your world has been revolving around Minho all this time makes you feel queasy.

“Y/N?”

You want to explode. You wish you can explode. There’s nothing you want more than taking out every piece of your broken heart, count all of them and show him how much you’ve been hurting. You thought your love was enough for both of you, but the bigger your love grew, the farther the distance between the two of you became.

Minho keeps his gaze on you as you’re mustering up courage to ask the most heartbreaking question. “Why?” you quiver. “Why do you pretend that you like me? Why do you bother doing that for 2 years?”

“I-I like you. So much,” he stutters. “Just not in the same way you like me…”

Blinking your tears away, you return his tormented gaze. “Then why did you let me like you alone? Every fucking day you let me wonder how much you like me, if I mean anything to you… I wait for you, convincing myself that you must’ve liked me if you chose to be my boyfriend. But it’s just a game to you, isn’t it?”

Lee Minho has always had his own way to love. You’ve seen him showering those around him with love in ways that seem so ordinary that people often take it for granted. But you see and feel everything, including hints that your feelings have always been one sided. You bury all those hints, telling yourself that he only needs time.

That time never comes, and you have run out of lies and excuses and hope to cover up for both of you.

Phase 3: Chasing Moonlight

The Queen lived under a spell all this time, believing that the foreign kingdom was her whole world while she didn’t even have a home to begin with.

But the ruins of her castle—the only thing that’s left of the kingdom she tried to understand her whole life—will become one. She’s going to build herself a new kingdom, one that she knows by heart, and call it home.

“Noona!!! I’m going home!!! Don’t stay there too long!!! You’ll get sick!!!”

You tear your gaze from the cloudy sky as Hyunjin shouts at you from the ground. You dismiss him with a little wave, forcing a small smile so that the boy will leave instead of going back to the rooftop.

“He’s right,” Chan adds. “You’ve been here for hours.”

After showing up at work with puffy eyes and hoarse voice, Chan attempted to send you home, but you insisted to complete some of your tasks before breaking down during lunch after Hyunjin accidentally revealed that he would meet Seungmin at Eat Here.

So here you are, finally sated after crying all the tears you had left at the rooftop during the remaining working hours.

“I’m fine,” you croak, cringing at your own voice. “You can leave.”

“And let you stay here until you’re all stiff and frozen?”

“Just let me be pathetic for one more day.”

He furrows his brows. “You’re not being pathetic. After what he’s done to you, weeping is the least you should do.”

You let out your first laugh of the day. “I surely wept.”

Looking incredibly relieved that you haven’t lost the ability to feel other emotions than sadness, Chan continues, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what hurts the most?”

He takes the longest time to think, but shakes his head at the end.

“The fact that I’ll probably never see him again.”

“That’s supposed to be a good thing, but go on.”

“Should I give him one last chance? Or should I just hate him until I die? What’s the right thing to do? What should I do to heal? What should he do to heal? All these questions are driving me insane.”

Those questions are the easiest to answer, so you expect Chan to sigh and tell you to snap out of it, but he just smiles at you. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Have you tried answering your own questions? What you want to do is what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy, my dear friend.”

“I want to…”

Your mind wanders to last night, recalling that agony on Minho’s face that mirrors your own. A small part of you wants him to suffer for the rest of his life, consumed by guilt and the sheer horror of being erased from someone else’s memories.

“I want to curse him out.”

Chan playfully smacks your head. “You didn’t do that?”

“My mind went blank, then I started crying. That wasn’t cool at all, I know,” you huff. “I should’ve told him to go to hell or something.”

“After that? What do you want to do?”

You bury your face into your palms, ignoring the teasing tone in Chan’s questions. “The last time we talked, you were Lee Minho’s #1 hater. What happened?”

“I just wanted him to be honest with you. I never hated him,” he tells you softly. “Do you?”

You may never get all of your memories back, but the ones you can remember are enough to know that being with Minho used to be a silent torture. He was a thorny rose, beautiful yet unattainable. You wanted him so much you refused to look down and see your bloody fingers. The thorns were stuck there for the longest time, eventually infecting your soul until you were too weak to heal yourself.

But he’s not that boy anymore. He’s just Minho who listens to all of your rambles and actually keeps all those details in his mind. He gives you the warmest hugs and the most sincere kisses. He stays by your side, and you will always want him to stay.

When you finally lift your head to answer Chan, he gives you his reassuring smile that never fails to make you feel better. It’s the first time he’s talking about Minho without a frown, and you hope it’s a good sign. “Like I said,” he sing-songs. “Do what you want to do.”

The sound of footsteps approaching prompts you to curl yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible under the dining the table. Jeongin manages to push the heavy door open after a few tries, mumbling that you’re not going to take the “king of hide and seek” title from him. You can’t help but giggle at his determination, waiting for him to find you while he’s scanning the whole room.

“Minho hyung!”

You stay still, not wanting to fall into the 5 year-old’s tricks so easily… until you hear Minho’s voice calling the little boy’s name. “What are you guys playing? Where’s Y/N?”

“We’re playing hide and seek,” Jeongin answers, his eyes still as sharp as a hawk. “I’ve found everyone, only Y/N noona is left!”

Minho hums. “Want me to help you find her?”

You don’t hear Jeongin responding, but the next thing you see is a pair of pretty eyes staring into yours. “Found her,” Minho murmurs.

Jeongin pulls you out with a huge grin on his face. “I knew you were there! Thanks for helping me, hyung.”

Minho ruffles the boy’s head before gazing back at you. “If you’re thankful, can I borrow her for a second? We just need to talk, then she’s all yours.”

You can’t find the strength to say no, hoping Jeongin will somehow be clingy this time. “Are you guys fighting?” he asks instead.

“Do you think we’re fighting?”

Jeongin nods, his sparkly eyes turn gloomy. “If I let you talk, will you make up?”

Minho glances at you. “I don’t know… I made a huge mistake.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“Yeah,” Minho confirms, voice thick with remorse and you’re not sure how long you can pretend to be okay in front of Jeongin.“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?”

You crouch down, pinching the boy’s pout with an endearing smile. “I promise nothing bad will happen. Can we go outside now? I’m sure everyone is waiting for you.”

Still a bit sullen, he links his hand with yours and lets you lead him out, Minho trailing behind the two of you. Once you’re back at the garden, Jeongin whispers into your ear, “I’ll always be your friend, noona. I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course you won’t,” you laugh. “I’ll join you soon, okay?”

Minho turns to you as soon as Jeongin goes back to his friends, studying your expressions carefully. You want to tell him so many things, yet the only words you can produce are, “Fuck you, Lee Minho.”

You feel slightly lighter when Minho says nothing to defend himself, sitting on the grass before gesturing at you to do the same. It fuels your need to let out the pain you previously sealed inside your heart, ironically basking in his comforting presence as you do so.

“The whole time I felt like something was missing. You knew that, then went on hiding the rest of the puzzle pieces and left me there, incomplete. Just like that.”

This isn’t your first time baring your heart to Minho, the last time you did it you were left with such immeasurable pain that erasing a part of your brain—your soul—sounded like a better choice. You wait for the sadness and rage to take over your mind, but the storm never comes. You wonder what makes it different until Minho shifts to look at you in the eye.

Minho is looking at you with those pretty eyes like you’re the only one he can see. It’s not just a sweet dream you tried to dream of every night when you were 17. You’re no longer the only one who’s wearing your heart on your sleeves.

“Am I doing this because I feel guilty or because I genuinely want to be with you?” he begins. “Believe me Y/N, I spent months trying to find the answer and justify what I did, but I guess you can never exactly separate those two feelings.”

His confession is bittersweet; you know it won’t end all your personal battles. You still have to fight them, help yourself to understand why you are thinking and acting the way you are. The gaps have been filled, and now you have to be the one who define yourself.

“I thought I could just treat you better for the rest of our lives. I was sure my love would be enough to heal you. That was very stupid and selfish of me, and I’m sorry. You’re free to hate me, push me away, ruin my life… the decision is yours. But I don’t wanna hide how I feel anymore. Not from you.”

You’re still pondering his words when Jeongin comes to check on you, making sure Minho isn’t making you cry again.

“No, Jeongin, I’m fine. Look? I’m not crying!” you reassure the pouty kid.

He beams at you with his toothy smile. “Really?! Did you make up? Friends have to forgive each other!”

“I know, sweetheart,” you coo. “And yes, we made up. Friends forgive each other.”

Minho shoots you a surprised look, but you ignore him until you convince Jeongin that he can continue playing. “I don’t know whether we can go back to what we were,” you tell him, gazing at the clear sky. “I still need time to process everything, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t ever see you again. So we can be friends, if you want.”

He chuckles, eyes sparkling and hopeful. “Hi. I’m Lee Minho.”

“I’m Y/N,” you reply. “Anyways, Lee Minho my new friend, how did you know that I’m here?”

“Your scary friend Bang Chan told me you’d be here.”

“So you think Chan is scary.”

Minho does something that’s between a shrug and a shudder. “He’s always shooting daggers at me how do you not notice?!”

As you and Minho spend the rest of the day laughing and enjoying the sun, you rediscover the magic of following your heart.

It’s heavenly.

To Minho, there are only okay days and good days. Bad days almost never happen, but today is a bad day. Everything started from Eat Here’s fruit supplier sending them the wrong strawberries, then Seungmin called in sick minutes before his shift started, and now he has to deal with a couple whose order hasn’t been processed since 40 minutes ago.

“I apologize for the inconvenience. We’re processing your order now and it will be on us. Jisung, we need another 2 glasses of lemonade—”

“We need our food, not—”

Minho’s lips stretch into a thin smile, the kind of smile he hates because you once said you could sense that he was faking it. His business smile is the only that can save him now, so he ignores the fact that you’re watching the whole chaos and says, “It will be on us. You’re going to need more drinks while waiting.”

After making sure that he’s appeased the angry customers, Minho goes back to the small table at the corner where you’re waiting for him. He can no longer mask his fatigue and annoyance when you lay your eyes on him, all he wants now is to hold you in his arms and sleep everything away. He knows he can’t ask you for more, he’s already getting more than he deserves since you agreed to be friends with him again.

He’s undeniably the luckiest man in the whole galaxy, but it’s human instincts to always want more. There are days when his longing for you is too much to handle, and today is one of those days.

His train of thoughts is interrupted when a cold glass is pressed against his cheek. “Minho?”

“Huh?”

Your eyes crinkle knowingly when he focuses his eyes on you again. “I want to listen to you ranting but I really need to go now. Chan needs me back at the office.”

“Okay,” he answers rather brashly. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Minho almost pouts the way Jeongin does (that pout always gets him) whenever the two of you are going home, luckily he stops himself just in time, opting to wonder what will happen if he tells you that he wants you to stay just a minute longer instead.

You make your way to the door, but not without stopping to give him one last advice, “You better not complain that everything is annoying every 5 seconds if you want that new guy to last more than a day. He’s been looking like a lost quokka!”

Your “warning” came out a bit too loud than you expected. Of course, it reaches Han “that new guy” Jisung’s ears and Minho hopes he remembers to give the poor kid a slice of cheesecake for free after his shift ends. You flash him an apologetic smile, turning to Jisung to convince him that his boss isn’t as bad as he seems before your phone rings.

“He’s harmless, Jisung, just make him iced Americano everyday, praise his cats, and you’re good. Okay, I have to go now or I’ll be jobless in an hour! Byeee!”

Minho’s mouth has curled into a lovesick smile at your antics, waving at you until you close the door of your car. The way you naturally calm him down surprises him everytime, it’s like you’re unaware of how much power you have over him.

God, you really own every inch of his heart, don’t you?

Second chances are overrated.

People change, but once you pay attention to them a just a liiiitle more, you realize that they’re still the same. Lee Minho believes he doesn’t deserve any second chance from you, yet he finds himself seeking forgiveness the moment he looked into your eyes again. As selfish as it sounds, Minho wants your love. Nobody else’s, just yours.

He tried to fill in the empty space you left with other people, but none of them fit. It was always too much or too little, punching him right in his gut for ever thinking that what you two had was too much, that you were too much.

Seeing you fast asleep in his living room with Soonie, Doongie and Dori is another reminder that you were never too much.

You were, and still are, his everything.

Dori opens her eyes before jumping out of your arms, making you stir. Minho quietly strokes your hair to lull you back to sleep, but soon your eyes flutter open as well. “Hmmm look who’s here… the hottest man alive,” you mumble.

Minho points at himself. “Not that I’m surprised, but thank you.”

Your sleepy smile and the breathy chuckle that comes after make his stomach flip. It’s just a simple reaction, something you probably didn’t realize doing, but it feels breathtakingly intimate and loving to Minho. A small part of you that only him can see, something that will cross his mind sometime during work, making him wish time to pass quickly so he can rush back home. To you.

Damn, he promised himself not to let him picture a life with you as the love of his life, but look at his defense crumbling right in front of you because of a mere smile.

You seem to notice his dilemma, lips forming another smile. Opening your arms, you whisper, “Come here.”

The voices in his head are drowned by your request, it’s echoing inside his head like a deathly spell. You have him in your embrace nanoseconds later, curling your hands around his neck as he completely succumbs to his longing.

Minho’s head buzzes with the need to tell you that he loves you, wants you, and misses you to the point that he almost asks you to please please please please forgive him and take him back.

“Okay.”

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, eyes flickering to yours. You chuckle at his reaction, cupping his cheeks with your warm hands. “Say that again.”

“Say… what again?”

Minho blinks up at you, tiny groans of regret escaping his lips when he realizes that he just spilled everything out loud. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I know this isn’t about me, but—”

“Did you mean it, though?”

“Of course I did,” Minho says. “But I want to go according to your pace.”

“If I didn’t want the same thing I wouldn’t be here, Minho.” Your voice is as sweet as honey, hypnotizing him into dropping his hopeless pretense. “I’ve built a new home that truly feels like home. It’s probably just a small house, filled with everything that makes me me. But it feels like a beautiful kingdom, and it’s not complete without you in it.”

You don’t have to say it; the way you hold his gaze with such a raw, pure sincerity and the way you asked him to be with you as if he’s the best person in the whole world are enough to let Minho know that he’s all forgiven.

Feeling a tug at his shirt, he meets your expectant eyes once again. “Are you going to continue staring at me like that until we fall asleep?”

The last traces his fear for disappointing you melts away as you start stroking his hair. “I love you,” he rasps, unconsciously leaning in until his lips brush over yours. “My precious moonlight, I’ll do my best so you won’t ever have to erase me again. I love you, Y/N, please don’t leave me.”

You barely manage to nod before Minho finally crashes his lips against yours, not giving you any chance to steal a breath as he lets his feelings overtake himself. He explores every part of your lips like a madman and you accept whatever he gives you, trying to keep up with his feverish kisses and letting him know that he doesn’t need to hold back.

The sudden urge to see you encourages him to pull away. Minho says nothing for a while, only looking into your eyes with silent adoration. Still breathless, you prop yourself up to reward him with a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, the sweet gesture causing Minho to attack you with a series of playful smooches.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask in between kisses, giggling when Minho switches your positions, you’re now lying on top of him.

“This?”

You pinch his cheek. “I gotta admit it feels kinda nice to hear you saying please so many times.”

Minho arches an eyebrow at your cheeky remark. “Is that so? Wait until you find out how much I like hearing you beg.”

“Minho!” you exclaim, dropping your head on his chest to hide your flushed cheeks. He wraps his arms around you, ready to make you even more flustered before accidentally locking eyes with his cats. You lift your head when you feel his body stills, following his gaze.

“Oh no,” you murmur. “The kids saw that, didn’t they?”

He smiles sheepishly at each of them, somehow feeling like he’s gotten caught by his parents. “This kind of thing happens when you love someone,” he attempts to joke. “So get used to it, okay kiddos?”

You nudge his chest with your chin. “God, you’re shameless.”

“They’re cats!”

“Then why are your ears so red?!”

Minho tuts. “That’s it. We need to do this more often so they’ll get used to it.”

As he silences you with another searing kiss, Minho almost malfunctions at how addicting and comforting it is to have you as his again. It’s impossible to fathom all of his feelings for you into words, yet he still hopes you’ll feel every single one of them.

And you do, because Minho is yours. Entirely yours.

“How did you pass your driving test? Did you bribe them or something?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to answer Seungmin’s accusation, eyes glued to the road.

“Watch it,” Minho warns monotonously while you’re gripping his hand, too scared to witness the younger trying to drive. Seungmin shrieks in horror when Hyunjin hits the break almost too late. He glares at the passenger seats where you and Minho are seated. “Hyung can you just take over? Or at least switch seats with me?”

“I can’t.” He points at you. “Y/N is scared as hell and I’m not gonna let you hold her hand.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath when several other cars pass him. “Give me a break! This is my first time driving at the highway,” he argues. “And I was supposed to borrow Chan hyung’s car! Driving your car makes it even ten times scarier!”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my car?!” your boyfriend protests.

The three men continue talking over each other, causing you to roar, “SHUT UP!! Hwang Hyunjin, if you take your hands off the wheels you’re gonna die before you even scratch the car!”

Twenty painful minutes later, Hyunjin succeeds in parallel parking the car with the help of a very frustrated Seungmin. The two boys are heading to the orphanage right away, leaving you and Minho alone for your little date.

Minho opens the trunk, setting it up quickly before pulling you to sit beside him, handing you one of the toasts he packed this morning. “Whoa, the moony park is even more beautiful during the day,” you muse, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees. “Should we come here more often at this hour?”

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re with me.”

Minho snorts at your cheesy answer, but you still sense his wary from the way he keeps glancing at you from time to time. “Is this about the erasure recording you found in my room yesterday? Is that why you took me here?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re still keeping it. I thought we agreed to destroy it,” he says, doing his best to conceal his uneasiness. You initially thought it was a great idea to forget it ever happened, but no, you’re not running away. You want to accept all the consequences of the decisions you have made, especially this one.

“We did, but then I realized I didn’t want to. I don’t want to erase anything anymore, Minho. I want to live life as it is. It’s a memento from the most important period of my life, and while it hurts, it’s a part of me.” You throw your arms around him, squeezing his body until he turns to you and return your hug. “It’s also a reminder that what we have is stronger than anything, don’t you think? I erased you and I still fell in love with you again. Like an idiot.”

Relief washes over you when Minho chuckles, carefree and amused. “You’re not an idiot,” he teases. “You just have an exceptional taste, and I’m way too irresistible. Let’s face it, you were already crazy for me even before I gave you my card.”

“No I wasn’t! I just thought you were attractive!”

“I am the hottest man alive.”

You sigh. “You’ll never let me live it down.”

“No,” he affirms. “Because you’re right. It’s time to stop trying to forget our past. I’ll never forget the fact that you’re calling me the hottest man alive, just like I’ll never forget how much I’ve hurt you. And how much I’ll always try to make it up to you.”

You laugh at his comparison. “I honestly can’t tell whether we’re having a serious conversation or just trolling each other.”

“It’s my talent, baby. Life is always fun with me.”

Although the park has become more crowded and your boyfriend is never big on PDA, you have no choice but giving him a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything for me,” you whisper. “Just love me.”

“Hmm.” His lips stretch into a loving smile, the one smile reserved for your eyes only. “That I do.”

Minho isn’t a prince charming who sweeps you off your feet. He is your wandering prince and you’re his moonlight, illuminating his gloomy world. You show him that he doesn’t have to wander for the rest of his life, that he can call you home and stay.

And Minho will always be with you, showering you with the love you deserve. He’ll be the one who fight the demons for you and with you, he’ll be the one who reminds you over and over again how strong and precious you are whenever you lose faith in yourself. Together, you are moonlit. Together, you are complete.

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snowpeawritings · 3 years

Text

As Long-Standing As The Earth

Every day, Zhongli stares down at a little cube. The cor lapis-colored thing humming with Geo energy as the little dial that shows on one side slowly ticks.

When the dial reaches its peak, Zhongli feels like the earth is alive again.

Reader is gender neutral

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Reincarnation AU, Modern AU, Zhongli character story spoilers, blood warning

❄ Snowpea’s words: LET’S GO ZHONGLI BANNER DROPPING TOMORROW I WROTE 2K WORDS LIKE I PROMISED--

The first time he held the little cube, you were dying in his arms.

It shouldn't shake him, he thinks. He is the god of war, death became a norm when mortals and archons alike are associated with him. He is the long-standing pillar that brought his army to victory. Just like the earth that continues to stand, just like his energy that reshaped the land, he will not bow to whatever danger his immortal lifetime will experience.

It shouldn't shake him. It shouldn't shake his hands when he holds your lifeless corpse, your blood running down his skin like water weathering down stone. It shouldn't.

Yet it does. Each stream of blood crumbled his visage, eyes pleading at your dead ones to see if you will laugh at how ridiculous he looks. He would take any sort of jest from you just to see you that you were even capable of making jokes while bleeding out.

You never did.

And just like sand, he crumpled down onto the earth, hoping that he would be swallowed in when the gods took you away from him.

The second time he held the cube, it was when he used it for the first time.

He remembers it fondly; you were pledged to him beyond Teyvat's mortal realms, as a god and a mortal who were sworn to each other. You joked about it, saying you two were practically married to each other and wondered if he hated the fact that he had been tied down to a mortal.

Before, he would've laughed at the thought and said that you were silly.

He wished he could've done more than just laugh at your insecurities.

The Guili Plains were slowly coming to life as he spent his energy on making his abode. You mentioned to him before that you would've loved to sit back and eat your favorite cuisine underneath a red tree, surrounded by water as the sound of nature encompasses your dining wonderfully. He had hoped that the tree in the center was big enough for you to see.

As if realizing his fondness, a little cube-no bigger than his palm-glowed from his pocket. It hummed with elemental energy as he gasped at the dial pointing at its peak.

Terraforming would have to wait.

Ever since the Archon War, he began to loathe being an archon.

He sees old friends come and go or worse, die during the war. It wouldn't be a surprise that he was used to death.

No… that's not how he would describe it.

He was used to loneliness…?

Close.

Ah, he grew tired of being lonely. He supposes that was an agreeable feeling to describe him. The price of him wanting to end his loneliness was a price his heart couldn't bear. He was a smart god, cleverly providing strategies in order to gain the upper hand in the war.

Clearly, he wasn't smart enough to know the long-term consequences of his need.

The gods had warned him and he stood his ground as resolute as the mountains of Liyue.

The bustling village greeted his sight. Newcomers of Liyue and old villagers walked around, giving space for him to walk. Whether it was fear or admiration towards the archon, he couldn't care less. He set sight on a rather large house, its windows and doors opened for the public as wounded laid down on cots. Victims of people attempting to colonize Liyue, Treasure Hunters, or the sad case of Hilichurls, he couldn't care less.

He spots the aura of yellow energy before he could properly see the person. They were wearing a nurse's outfit, caked with blood and unknown grime from treating patients. Yet he never saw a more beautiful sight.

He approaches you and he feels the cube in his hand vibrate in tune with your aura. Making a deal with the devils be damned, he can never throw this opportunity away because he was an immortal.

"Oh, hello sir!" You greeted him and he felt the earth tremble slightly from your voice. "What can I help you with?"

He smiled at you, placing his palm in front of his chest pocket where the cube hummed. "My name is Zhongli. I heard that you are an excellent doctor?"

The third time he held the cube, he nearly threw it away along with his past.

He was no longer Morax, or Rex Lapis. He was just Zhongli, the head of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.

It was ironic, to be connected to a place of death and moving on when he tries to do the same thing. Not once did the thought of moving on never crossed his mind. Not once did the thought of giving up his life never crossed his mind because he was so tired.

His past seemed just as resolute as the earth, he thinks bitterly.

The cube that he wanted so badly to discard still kept reappearing in his sight. Whether throwing it outside the window or burning it in the fireplace or even chucking it at the Chasm. It doesn't matter, it keeps reappearing like it was gloating at him. Like it was sneering at him as it reminds him about this perpetual curse that follows him until his dying breath.

But that doesn't matter at the moment. He has a job to do as the head for doing the rite of passing. He follows the Traveler to the floral boutique, wanting to buy the best Silk Flowers for Rex Lapis's passing.

How fitting.

Before he could try to get a word out for the history of Silk Flowers, his words got trapped in his throat. He sees the same yellow aura that he associated with the color of Geo. No matter how much time has passed, he knows those vibrant colors anywhere. The cube inside his coat hummed annoyingly like it was trying for him to do something. You were blissfully unaware of his longing stare, busy trying to barter against a merchant for the cheapest price of cor lapis.

Oh, how much he wanted to march right next to you and barter with the merchant himself, say that the cor lapis he sold couldn’t hold a candle to the aura that you emitted, that he was willing to put the price of the cor lapis on his tab because you were worth it--

"Mr. Zhongli?" The Traveler's travelling companion asks. "Are you okay?"

He ignores them, chest tightening at the thought of seeing his love for the third time. "I… lost my thought. I apologize."

Stand as resolute as the earth, Zhongli scolds himself. You can't stay like this forever.

... Forever is nothing compared to an archon, though.

After having dinner with the Traveler with a smooth rite of passing, he would've loved to take Barbatos's advice and drink until he can't think.

The fourth time he held the cube, it was when he felt his powers slipping away.

The times have changed, he fears, for the Statues of the Seven slowly dwindled out until they were almost ruined. The age of metal and alchemy conquered Teyvat instead of the elemental energy and Visions that people possessed. He couldn't heal using the broken down Statues but at least he could share one last drink with Barbatos before the inevitable.

"You should see them build the first plane!" He said excitedly as he downed his umpteenth drink. "Looks like they don't need the winds from their archon anymore!"

Somehow, he wishes he could share Barbatos's anguished laughter as he drank himself into forgetfulness.

The age of innovation grew higher and higher towards its peak while Zhongli's powers grew lower and lower. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't mind it.

Anything to get rid of the blasted cube.

He gave up trying to get rid of it. Gave up on trying to find his love when the dial hits its peak. If giving away his gnosis meant that the cube would no longer work, he would. Even more so with the depletion of everyone's belief at Archons.

He hopes.

Alas, it appears Celestia would laugh at Zhongli's hopes, for when the cube glowed for another time, he nearly tore his hair out.

How many lifetimes? How many more heartbreaks? How many more funeral rites?

And yet he seemed to be the biggest fool despite being the eldest Archon, for when he sees you, an inventor innovating the new gadgets for tomorrow, he felt the earth beneath his feet tremble.

He missed this feeling.

"Hello sir!" You greeted him with enthusiasm that he wished he could relate to. "Care to see the future of mankind?"

He is the biggest fool there was. "I would love to."

And he may as well die as a fool.

The fifth time he held the cube, he was only fidgeting it around.

Funeral parlors were becoming commonplace but not a lot of customers. With globalization and the new funeral trends being used, people have mixed feelings about having such an expensive and extravagant rite of passing.

And it also doesn't help that he gets confused when some people don't even bother asking for his services. They just stare at him with a wiggly smile on their lips.

Regardless, he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. He sees the dial on its peak but he doesn't pay heed to it. He gave up. With how many people there are and newer countries emerging, he lost hope.

No, more like he doesn't care anymore.

It was probably an insult to you-no-it was a clear insult and it was scary that he doesn't care anymore. He can't be the man that existed before, assisting the Traveler and Childe. He can't be the broken down Archon that shared drinks with Barbatos. He was so goddamn tired that he deserves this sanctuary.

If he could even call it that.

And yet, he persisted. Not for Guizhong, not for you, but for himself.

He takes his time with his tea, relishing in the flavors as he used this time to calm himself. The sounds of the clock ticking, the ceramic of his cup hitting the table, and the distant sound of birds chirping were all welcomed to his ears. It appears that his daily tea rituals haven't changed at all ever since he was born.

As he sips up the last bit of his tea, a knock broke him out of his concentration. He allowed entry.

An employee under him bowed before straightening his back. "Mr. Zhongli, you have a customer."

He sets down the cup. "Bring them in."

The employee nodded at him before walking back to fetch the customer. He fixes his tie and moves his finished tea away, wanting to look best for the customer.

Hearing an extra set of footsteps, he raised his head to greet the customer but he felt the earth tremble.

Maybe Celestia had enough of his sulking as he sees you smile at him like the first of you smiled at the archon all those millenia ago.

"Hello, Mr. Zhongli," you greeted and his name never sounded so poisonously sweet in his ears, "I hope you aren't too busy with what I have to ask…"

He may as well start his own funeral rites for himself.

He takes a while before composing himself, not meeting your eyes as he gestured to the vacant seat on his left side. He can’t meet your eyes even when you sat down and smiled politely at him. It felt like his heart stopped, then jump started like an engine.

“So, um…” You said, fiddling with the tips of your fingers and Zhongli had to resist the urge to take your hands in his. “Mr. Zhongli, I was hoping that I could ask you something.”

He steeled his spine in order to not show the shiver he felt when he heard you say his name. Gods, when has it been that your past reincarnation said his name? Even in a non-romantic way? “Well, as long as it is within the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s power, I’ll do what I can.”

This time, you averted your eyes from him, your hand moving to scratch the back of your neck. “About that… it’s not really something related to the funeral parlor perse…”

He raised his brow, your nervousness almost easing him. “Oh?”

Your face flushed and Zhongli can’t help but feel his heart race just like before. “It’s ah… It’s just that I have a research thesis that I’m doing and for some reason, the people I’ve asked recommended you.”

He slightly deflated, then wondered why he felt disappointment in the first place. “A research thesis? Pertaining about...?”

You immediately perked up and you reached out from behind you. Your bag was sitting behind you, smooshed against the chair as Zhongli watched you curiously. From your backpack, you fished out a laptop, a heavy history book, a slim book, two notebooks, and a pencil case that’s practically bursting at the seams with stationery. You set them down on the table, the force clattering the plates but nothing was spilled.

You booted up your laptop, getting one of your notebooks and grabbing a pen. When the laptop finally booted up, you logged in and presented Zhongli what was on the screen.

He felt the earth tremble from his knee knocking up against the table.

‘History of Rex Lapis And Their Influence On The Modern World’

“I’m a huge fan of history, you see!” You explained quickly, grabbing the large book that shows an old copy of Rex Lapis Incognito, a book that he hasn’t seen a while. “I really appreciate everything that the old archons did for the world, even if people don’t believe in them anymore. I especially have a fondness for the adepti but they’re even more forgettable-but I don’t mean it in a bad way! I want to write this with intentions of people remembering what both archons and adepti did for Teyvat…”

He zoned out soon after you said ‘history’. He wasn’t the type to pray for a blessing when, after all, you’re a literal god. But it comes to a time where, after heartbreak after heartbreak, he grows tired and soon goes numb. He thought he hardened his heart ever since he subjected himself to this but it appears even bedrock can be reduced to dust.

He let out a small, shaky breath before raising his head. That doesn’t matter now. He was Zhongli, used to be adeptus, used to be archon, but now: a man.

He couldn’t be any happier.

“I admire your fondness for researching ancient history.” He said, cutting off your rambling. “I may not be as knowledgeable as any other book, but I will try my best. We should speak about this somewhere else, though. It would be dreadful to speak in a funeral parlor.”

Just like terraforming, he can be rebuilt.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #snowpea writes #scenario #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH ZHONGLI BANNER DONT HURT ME KSDKFNSKF #I OFFER THIS AS TRIBUTE

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dykefoosh · 3 years

Text

It's been a year! Transcript: 8/3/21 Here is also a google doc of the transcript if that is easier to read!

*Starts out with happy birthday on a guitar playing*

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthdayyyy to meee, Happy Birthday to me

*Drinks a swig of alcohol*

Ah. Yeah it’s my birthday today, which um seems odd, it doesn't feel like i've been here that long… but I have. Cheers everyone uh. I realise I haven't really done much in a while.

I woke up this morning, rolled out of bed, put out this cake I made three months ago and uh, that's kind of been it, but yeah… I don’t think I’ve left this room in 80 days. About 80 days… How long is 80 days? I- I- that's a lot of months… that's been a long time… Also my vision just went black, I’ve been drinking a lot, um this is that possibly catching up with me um please return vision, I’d really like for it to be back, well I can hear things so at least i'm not deaf ya know? The lord has kept my hearing but I am blind, no um yep there we go.

I decided to get dressed up as well. I figured that would be nice, ya know? I’m pretty sure I was part of them back when I joined, so.. .I don't know if it felt like it made sense to dress up again. Um, fucking hell, I have not cleaned. *sighs* I’ll be honest, in the time I was gone, not very… not very much has happened, uh, it turns out you need customers to support a hotel, and I don’t know about you guys but I haven't seen one on this place for a pretty long while. So uh, basically what I’m saying is… the big jack manifold hasn't been going too hot, god, you don’t provide these guys with food for eighty days and they all go bones and evil.

LEAVE out you bard, you-

The point is, very little has been done here for quite awhile, and um I haven't been outside or seen anyone, and I- I didn't’ finish the pub. Um, you may be asking me, “but jack wasn't that the only thing you were working towards? I know but with the failure of the hotel, I kind of realised that again pubs also rely on customers and the very limited people on this server, as we can all see it really ah um, well it didn’t seem very fruitful. So um, we're kinda just here, living here rent free ever since we claimed this place… I actually don’t know who pays the rent.. Maybe Tommy still does um. I Don't know- anyway since I’ve been here for a year and I haven't really looked around in three months, I thought we would go and look around at everything that we once saw, you know?

I must admit the investment of the alcohol from the pub has been the only thing keeping-.. I shouldn't say that, let's not speak about that part. Yeah it turns out that this place, look I haven't been outside in eighty days and I think maybe since I’ve been here for a year I can go back and have a look around at everything. And um as I said I dressed up for the occasion, so um you know… lets see what's changed hmmm?

Anyway let's walk around shall we? Well this didn’t change, we still got mcpuffys here. Hehe, no one noticed my balls sign hehe, no one noticed, I forgot about this, no one noticed I replaced whatever the original one was with balls in hope they wouldn't notice and they didn't. Ahh that's good, I like that. Anyway, there's the duck and Ponk’s tower that seem pretty much the same.

This looks different, this was a hole.. Who are you? Alright? You know we are the only two people on the server right now? (talking to shroud) This basically means we gotta become friends. So.. tell me about yourself.. Sir? Madam? Shroud, alright. Oh Ohhh I stole some of these! Did I ever give them back? Whoops, oh well. Ahh, it's been quiet without him ya know tommy. I’ll be honest, theres been very little to do, with him gone, um, the fuck did ninjas house go? Why does it look like a very small mcdonalds?

Right, this tower, this seems pretty much the same. Does the sewer still exist? Hm oh wait does it not? What ohh no what happened to the sewers? Aw, there was a whole sewer system out there one time and oh wow. Why is there no longer a sewer there? Wait oH OH it is down here!

One of the first things I remember is me tommy and tubbo and quackity, before he even joined and was still in juvy we, hehe, we did a little heist on everyone and we stole the poo machines and stole everything and then we had a little room, and it was here and we stole the phantom membranes. It was a good time, it was a good time, I liked that and then ah there had only been one war. It's crazy to think there's been more, I thought we’d figure it out the first time, you know? It was fun. And we were called the beatles. Either way yeah.

Why the fuck is half of this place beatroots? Why are half of these beetroots and the other half potatoes? Why is it all farm?? Why? Why is it beats? Wait where did gay target go? Why is there just a beacon here? At least there's huts pizza. Employee of the first two days, of dunderbeatlin… the fuck is dunderbeatlin? What's this? Why are there new things? I know it's been eighty days but why?

This is the L’manburg museum, bearing in mind I'm dressed like this I should go see it.

Oh! It's like different things. This is like the community house, okay that's cool and that's the egg.. This is a replica it won't hurt you… oh it doesn't it won't actually hurt you. I guess they remade that shit. What even happened with that thing? I remember it tried to possess me once and then I bathed in the holy water and I was good again. Oh wow it's like a map of the whole server and there's egg gunk. And then and then and then here.. Where am I? Oh… is that lmanburg? Where is lmanburg? Oh wait oh yeah yeah wait I forgot…. Oh…. yeah….. Um….heh yeah….

OH its the lmanburg walls! I remember tearing them down and rebuilding them a lot and the hotdog van! Does it have the declaration in it? No it doesn't… It is blue. Ohhh…… I joined the day after this (the final control room) God, it's been a whole year since then… What's this? Wait… I feel like there's missing lines here. I don’t know if sorry, you know? Oh, look here, oh it just says i'm sorry. (erets apology book) I’m not all that sure that sorry quite cuts that. What's this? Oh this looks unfinished. Oh here's a map of old lmanburg! OH that's ze house! Before… I burnt it down and decided I wasn't gonna have manifold land anymore.. I miss that, I miss lmanburg.

It was a lot easier to dream when we were friends. Everyone feels so distant now but maybe that's because I haven't seen them, maybe that didn't help I mean no one came to say hi to me. Oh, oh, my main takeaway was that, wait it's not glass anymore, it's like a cavern, it was glass the last time I was there, it's changed since I was here to remember what happened… Why does it look like this? Hmm I don't know. Ah this was my cove, and it was untouched until I burnt it down fuck you.

Oh and theres my secret base that I never finished, FUCK YOU - fuck I hate him, anyway… oh there's the big obsidian bridge, oh isn't this where tommy was exiled? Over this way? I think… That means it was somewhere along here that… wait no it was right here… right? We turned on these stairs, stepped down, and pretty sure it was right here… he dug this.. I don’t think I want to visit this place. I want to go back, this isn't really where I want to be.

Anyway um, I wonder if Snowchester has changed. Lets go visit, okay um, that's weird that's freshly planted. Let's head over to Snowchester its that way. Since when was Tubbos' house back? Didn’t Tommy burnt it down? I swear this got burnt down.. I remember the ruins of it, there was a nether tree farm then in it… anyway…. Let's go check out fundys place. I haven't seen him in FOREVER. The last time I saw him was the last war… the day… the last war… WHY ARE THERE BIG MUSEUM THINGS EVERYWHERE??

Where's fundys house? I built it. I remember building it as a prank and then he liked it and lived in it.. Where's my tower? It was here next to the fox, his little fox hole… my towers were gone, it was definitely here, it was a million percent here and it was right next to it. It was somewhere there was a button it had a button. There was a big sign made out of obsidian…

I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve been pretty purposeless for the past eight days… what the fuck? That's a HOLE. That's a big ass hole! That wasn't always there?! When did a hole show up?? There's a HOLE in my hotel!! I'm trying not to lose my cool and you know when I go the day that I joined, and the first person that greeted me was tommyinnit and still, I wish, I just wish someone logged in and said “hey jack happy one year” and I try to build them a pub and one of these *drinks a swig of alcohol* I mean at least..

Every time….. Everything here and how come it's all the things I care about that get blown up? Lmanburg… Manifold Land- Well I did manifold land but I was pissed off - Everything I care about on this server gets blown up, or destroyed or taken advantage of or.. Betrays me, that happens a lot. I’m not sure if I wanna be here anymore.

I’m not sure if I want to have anything to do with this… maybe that's it. Maybe that's it. What does this place bring? What does this place bring? Ever since I have been part of the “Dream SMP” Things are given to me that are eventually taken or destroyed, friends leave, DEATH, not everyone has died on the server and come back to life admittedly, I have now but the point is, I AM VERY DEFINITE I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS SERVER ANYMORE… Alright? Almost everyone that has promised me something has turned their back. Almost everyone. The last thing anyone said to me was “Ah when las nevadas comes about, we will have a deal jack.. I’ll make it big” Yeahh.. .he really brought a lot of business. How's Las Nevadas doing?? Because when I HEARD it would be done and bring me customers, surely not another person would give me false hope.

Tubbos was the only one I can trust, Tubbo and Niki. I know Niki has become an anarchist or whatever but at least she's happy, and Tubbo was always kind.

I think Las Nevadas is somewhere over here. Let's go look at how “done it is” and how ready for business they are… Looking PRETTY finished for me. Big sign, big building, nice roads. Looking pretty… done. Pretty ready for a business deal. Isn't that a shocker… Isn't it weird yet again that someone promised me something and it fell through again?

So FUCK IT I don’t wana see Snowchester, I dont want to see anything, My WHOLE TIME on this server has been doing things for other people and fighting peoples wars, right? Keeping up hotels and pubs for people to stay, trying to kill people at worst that wasnt me and fighting for them. I haven't done anything for myself. ANYTHING AT ALL. And I said the hotel was for me and look where it got me- in a room for 80 days and a giant bottle of cider I have yet to finish- so fuck it! I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. The “DREAM SMP” I’m gonna go out and start my own thing. I’m gonna call it the “Dream SSP” survival single player because I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. Alright?

The day Tommy died, I said I was done with manifold land because the only thing it ever stood for was trying to get rid of him, and although it was also about getting back at him, it was about other people, but this time, I have something new in mind, something completely different…

NEW Manifold land will not cater to anyone else, not fight for anyone else, to I don’t know be anything for anyone else really. New Manifold land will stick very strictly to the name and persist of purely Jack Manifold, and I might steal Godzilla back from Tubbo (his arctic fox). Because as much as I said Niki was kind and Tubbo was kind, where they been the past 80 days? No one came to the hotel. No one came looking for me to which point, I say I’m gonna find myself my own little place. I’m just gonna live. I’m gonna do what I want, the only thing is, I need to find an area of my own, we need to travel. So let's get moving hmm?

#dsmp transcript #transcript #jack manifold #c!jack #big manifold hotel #c!niki #c!tubbo #c!tommy #dsmp #lmanburg #manifold land

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willowbleedsonpaper · 4 years

Note

Hiya! I love your writing! Would you consider writing a draco malfoy x reader soulmate au? Maybe post war? Like you feel a harsh burn when you meet your soulmate but it immediately stops when you look in theirs eyes?

Carrot Cake

A/N: Thank you anon for being my first request and I hope you enjoy it!

W.C. : 4500

Warnings: A little bit of swearing.

Soulmates were a tricky thing. Even more when you found your perfect match in the entire world by the touch of skin against skin, showing you what true pain was before it all went away with the look of the one person that would love you no matter what. The fire that they ignited in you being washed away by you swimming in their eyes, diving into their gaze and letting it take all the pain away.

That sounded like a fairy tale, didn´t it?

Well try it at school, with thousands of teenagers looking for the one they would love until they took their last breath. It got intense at times.

You had witnessed the desperation of many at the very halls of Hogwarts. Girls and boys alike, walking way to closely to the one they thought was the one for them. “Accidentally” brushing hands to just get the disappointing feeling of a sweaty hand or the looks of confusion in the person. Many didn’t even try to date until they were sure it was their soulmate.

“I’m saving me the pain of a heartbreak.” they would say as they carried on with their lives.

It was funny to watch when two people found out they were soulmates. Your favorite one being at a Quidditch match. It was almost summer and the uniforms were just the necessary layers to prevent they passed out because of the heat. Hufflepuff was playing against Ravenclaw, the two seekers flying after the golden snitch at such speed they were flashes before the eyes of the crowd.

The Ravenclaw seeker had the snitch at the slightest stretch of her arm, but the Hufflepuff team couldn’t lose so he did the only thing that came to his mind. He forced his broom to the right, clashing his body against the one of the Ravenclaw seeker.

The matched stopped completely at the cries from both seekers rolling on the ground, their fall wasn’t that high so everyone stared at them with wide eyes as they screamed in pain. Only when one student reacted everyone understood what was happening. They were soulmates.

“LOOK AT HER, YOU FOOL!” someone yelled from the back of the crowd, and so he did. He forced the pain aside and opened his eyes meeting tear stained ones.

They felt as a cold bucket of water was poured over them, the pain fading into a feeling of bliss and fulfillment. The young seekers had found each other.

But you? You were neutral. You see, you were sure neither of your friends was your soulmate or you would have known since the moment you shook hands for the first time. And it wasn’t like you could go around touching every single person you crossed paths with. So you took the matter with patience.

One thing was for sure: You would meet your soulmate. Whether you were eleven, sixteen, thirty or fifty years old was up to fate.

How ever your friends, or more like one friend, was extremely worried about you.

“You won’t find them if you don’t look for them, Y/N” Hermione scolded you with a stern look. This was the third time she had brought up the subject in the week, whether she did it out of genuine concern or just mere curiosity of who you were destined to be, you didn’t know.

“That’s easy for you to say ‘Mione,” you said with the tilt of you head “You found yours when you were eleven.” your eyes falling to her and Ron’s hands together.

She rolled her eyes, dropping his boyfriend’s hand before she turned to the dark haired boy at your right “Harry?” she said, looking for the some kind of support.

He just shrugged, giving her a tight smile before returning to the book he seemed to have glued to his body. You’ll have to talk to him about it soon.

Hermione’s scoff returned your attention to her “All I’m saying is: It wouldn’t hurt if you made the effort, you know?” she said in defeat “Your soulmate is not going to drop out of the sky or go and knock at your door. You have to get out there and try.”

You smiled at her, and she returned it with a hopeful glint in her eyes “You’re right,” you said, pausing a little “Although he might drop out of the sky. We live in world with flying brooms, remember?” you said with an innocent smile.

Ron and Harry snickered around you, bursting in a full fit of laughter as Hermione yanked his hands away from yours. “You’re impossible.” she grunted, crossing her hands over her chest and turning away from you.

“Just leave her be, Hermione.” Harry defended you “If she doesn’t want to push it that’s up to her.”

You gave him a genuine smile, mouthing a thank you his way. He nodded his head with a smile, returning to the open page in front of him. Harry was right, you weren’t going to push it.

**********************************************************************

You couldn’t deny that after the war panicked was a current state you found yourself at least once a day. What if Hermione was right? You could have made the effort back at Hogwarts to find your soulmate, but no one could assure you that he or she was there.

Still you would have known. What if they died at war? Many students died at the hands of Voldemort’s forces, students and adults alike that had every possibility of being your soulmate. Age wasn’t a problem and you knew that first hand. The story of Professor Lupin and Tonks was well known among the wizards, besides the fact that you had meet the little Teddy Lupin in one of your visits to Harry. The boy was proof that the Soulmate bond was never wrong.

No one ever told you anything about what happened if your soulmate died before you realized who they are. Yes, you met but you never touched or interacted enough to realize you were soulmates.

At 25 years of being alive you had meet thousands of people who you had never even shared the same space. What if you already met them and you never realized because the interaction was so fast. Was that even possible?

The sound of the bell at your door ringing brought you back to reality, you stood from the stool you sat and straighten your apron before the person on the other side of the counter got there.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a smile “What can I get for you today?”.

After the war the last thing you wanted to do was work at the Ministry of Magic or anything that could put your life in danger again. So you worked to save enough money to open your own café, the recipes of your mother and your love for coffee making it success after the first year of opening. It also helped that the upper part of the little building worked as your home. A flat with a room for you and a big open space for the living room and a small but functional kitchen.

The person in front of you was clearly a new customer, reading over the menu hanged high on the wall as he took all the options in “I’ll have a black coffee with a slice of the double chocolate cake, please.” he said with a smile.

You nodded your head “Be ready in just a second!” you said turning to the coffee maker to get a fresh pot. He went to the stools that faced the busy street of Diagon Alley, the wooden bar filled with all kinds of beautiful plants that Neville had once showed you and you ended up loving.

The door burst open again, the sound of the outside world filling the place with the flowing chatter of the group that had just entered, taking one of the tables from far in the corner.

“Here you go, Sir.” you told the man waiting patiently on the bar.

He turned to you with a smile, taking the bag from your hand “Thank you!” he said, paying you and waving goodbye. You hadn’t even noticed the crowd that had gathered in the register until someone spoke from behind you.

“Well if it’s none other than Y/N Y/L/N,” said Blaise Zabini with a grin in his face, his eyes roaming all over your body before they landed on your eyes “Couldn’t find a better job?” he asked, the smug look in his face making you want nothing more than to throw the hot pot of coffee in his clearly expensive clothes.

But you held yourself back, you had dealt with clients like him before. With maybe too much force you placed the pot in the counter, putting a fake smile on your face “What can I get for you today?” you asked kindly, hoping the tick you felt in your eye was only a game your mind was playing on you.

“Awww,” he said with a fake pout of his lip “Sensitive subject?” he said with little voice. The ones accompanying him laughed under their breath, taking a glance their way you recognize them as Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle. She was still one of the prettiest yet meanest persons you had ever met, her sense of fashion hadn’t changed much, fortunately, her looks the only attribute you could save from her. Goyle was the same as he was back at Hogwarts, he looked more mature and adult-like but the chuckle at what Zabini had just said proved you that not much had changed.

“Are you going to order something or can I carry on with the rest of the line?” you asked, your patience starting to wear thin as more people got behind them.

“Answer me this first and maybe I’ll order something,” he said, resting his arms over the counter. The bell to the door sounded again but you paid it no mind, your hands starting to get sweaty at the sardonic look in his face “Is it true you haven’t found your soulmate yet?”

You stared at him, your eyes turning into a glare before you took a menacing step forward “This is not an interrogation” you said lowly “Order something or get out of my shop.” you snapped.

He raised his arms in defeat, a breathy laugh coming out of his lips “Whether you wanted it or not you just answered my question.” he laughed, glancing back to Pansy and Goyle “No wonder your so moody.”

“Zabini,” someone said beside him, your eyes shifting doubtfully to the side to see a tall man. He had serious face, his hazel eyes cold as he stared almost in annoyance at him “Did you choose this place only to bother her or are you actually going to order something?” he growled.

“Oh, c’mon Theo. We were just having a casual chat.” he said innocently “You remember Y/L/N, don’t you?” he said pointing at you.

He only spared a glance at you, his attention shifting quickly as another man joined them. Draco Malfoy.

“Of course I do,” Theo answered “I also remember how she once hexed your ass so bad you couldn’t leave your room for a week.” he said, erasing the smug look from his face “Need I continue or are you going to finally order something? Is the least you can do after making her lose her time on you.”

Blaise was fuming when he turned to you, never meeting your eyes “Three black coffees, one with cream and sugar and whatever they want.” he grunted, turning in his heel before you could even answer.

You turned to Theo, giving him a small yet genuine smile “What can I get for the two of you?” you asked, seeing his eyes go over the selection of cakes you had displayed.

“A mocha and a cappuccino, and one slice of the carrot cake.” he said, giving you a nod.

“I’ll have it by your table in a moment.” you told him, making a move with your hand for the next person in line to order.

They both muttered a thank you, keeping your eyes in the back of their heads as they went to the table their friends sat at. You shook your head, facing the lady next in line “Thank you for your patience.” you said, getting over with all the orders before you got to work.

The girl that you hired to help you moved at such a speed you almost missed her when she was about to take the order to the Slytherins “Not that one!” you said, stopping her before she was out of the kitchen “I’ll take it.” you mumbled grabbing the tray.

“Are you sure?” she said with a cock of her eyebrow “‘Cause they weren’t that nice before.” she said bitterly.

“I’m sure, Raven.” you said with a smile “You can start making the batter for the carrot cake, that was the last slice.”

She smiled, nodding her head before she turned, half the ingredients out before you even made it out of the kitchen. You walked to the table, putting a smile on your face “Three black coffees, one with sugar and cream,” you repeated their entire order as you placed each item in the table, a satisfactory look in your face as you ended “Anything else I can get you?”

They all stayed silent, never meeting your eyes. You catched a glimpse of Draco rolling his eyes, his eyes meeting yours “That would be all, thank you.” he said.

You nodded and turned, hearing a small part of their conversation.

“I didn’t order that.” Draco muttered as Theo placed the cake in front of him.

“Did you really think I forgot your birthday last week?” he asked, and you couldn’t help the smile that krept on your face. “Happy birthday, mate.”

They were the last ones to leave the shop that day, ordering all kinds of drinks they put their eyes on. You wondered if they would be able to sleep that night.

“Uh...Y/N?” Raven called you from the front part of the shop.

“Yes, darling?” you said, walking out to where she stood cleaning the tables. Her eyes shifting from you to the untouched table.

“I think this is for you.” she said shakily, handing you a neatly folded napkin.

You looked at her with a frown, opening the piece of paper to see it was a note. A beautifully written note.

I apologize for my idiotic friends and their behavior.

It had no signature but you had a pretty good guess as to who had left it. You turned to Raven with a soft smile “It’s just note Raven, nothing wrong with that.” you said, your smile dropping as she moved her body and let you see what she had been hiding. There in the table was a very generous tip, one that you hadn’t seen anyone leave.

“Merlin,” you mumbled turning to Raven who still had a panicked look in her eyes.

“Let’s close alright, it’s getting late.”

**********************************************************************

It had been two weeks since the incident with Blaise Zabini and even if they had been of your best customers you felt relieved when none of them had showed their face again. Of course, you weren’t that lucky.

It was a slow morning, friday mornings where no one went looking for coffee and instead saved their money and energy for the weekend. So, the bell ringing made you jump in anticipation until you saw them, Theo Nott and Draco Malfoy walking inside the shop.

You took a deep breath, watching them near the counter “Morning,” you smiled “What can I get you?” you asked.

You were glad it was them and not the others, surprisingly being the nicest ones. But still you couldn’t help but feel intimidated, they both have cold stares and a permanent tired looking face.

“Morning Y/N,” said Theo, surprising you by using your first name “Two black coffees, please.”

You nodded almost out of their sight before you heard Draco call “Do you have carrot cake?” he asked you, a chuckle emerging from Theo before he turned to pick a table. You smiled at him nodding your head, he thanked you and joined his friend at the table, slumping in his seat.

You couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him. You remembered him from school, always with a confident air to him, a bright smile that had everyone at his feet. He was a Malfoy for Godric's sake! Now he looked… defeated.

“Two black coffees and carrot cake,” you said once at their table “Fresh out of the oven.” you smiled down at him and he gave you a small smile, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. “Let me know if you need anything else.” you said.

You moved your hands to grab the tray, Draco’s hand reaching for his mug at the same time, knuckled brushing slightly. You felt a hot sensation, a gasp leaving your lips as you brought your hand up to your chest.

“Everything alright?” Theo asked from your side, your eyes never leaving Draco as you hoped to maybe see a reaction. His eyes dead as they always were.

“Yes...Enjoy your coffee.” you said to quickly, grabbing the tray and running back to the kitchen. You rubbed your thumb over your knuckles, Could it be?

Their voices caught your attention, being the only ones in the shop besides you made it difficult not to eavesdrop. They could probably whisper and you would get every single word they uttered.

“You gotta get out there,” Theo sighed “I know you don’t want to but not all is lost.”

“She was supposed to be the one,” Draco mumbled, his voice void of any emotion “Not fucking Zabini.” he grunted, stabbing his cake with the fork multiple times.

“So Astoria is not your soulmate,” Theo said with a knowing look “You should see it as a win.” he uttered getting a glare from Draco as he stopped the stabbing “You won’t have Daphne as your sister in law, you won’t have to endure their parents ridiculous expectations on you as her husband plus, do you even liked her?” he asked with a frown.

“I was starting to.” he mumbled bitterly.

“Then stop.” Theo ordered “And get yourself together, you don’t want to meet your soulmate and look like your fresh out of Azkaban.” he mumbled, sipping away before he took a look to the hour. He was close to spitting the bitter liquid, placing the cup down “Shit, I’m late.” he said, tapping his pockets before Draco waved a hand in his way.

“Go,” he told him “I got it.”

“Thanks mate,” he said, his eyes scanning the place before they landed on you behind the counter “Y/N!” he called and you poked your head over the counter “Keep the man some company for me, would you?” he said, smiling at the nod you gave him, running out the door before you could say another thing.

Your eyes drifted to Draco, sitting awkwardly at the table. You chuckled, getting up to walk to him, grabbing the empty mugs you cocked your head “Well c’mon, the stools are more comfortable, believe it or not.” you told him, listening to the shuffling sound before his steps filled the shop.

He sat in the one nearer to where you sat behind the counter. You stared at him before it turned weird, you shook your head “Do you want more coffee?” you said, wiggling your eyebrow at him before you said “Carrot cake?”

He laughed softly, giving you his empty mug. You poured him the coffee, bringing the cake out anyway. He gave you a questioning look, and you kept on cutting the slice “With the tip your friend left the last time you were here, I should give you a year worth of cake and coffee.” you laughed, placing the cake in a plate and giving it to him.

He smiled at you, taking the plate before he lowered his head “That would have been me, actually.” he mumbled, and you froze.

“What?” you stuttered, with wide eyes “That was you?” you asked him and he nodded, taking a bite of the cake. “Woah, well thank you,” you said, sitting in your stool “You made a little girl’s day that evening.”

He couldn’t help the disappointing feeling that settled in him, he doubted but the words left his mouth before he could even think about them “You have kids?” he asked.

You stared at him dumbfounded, laughing softly at his assumption “Oh, no.” you said, relief washing over him “Raven, the girl that works with me. She started working so she could buy her first broom.” you shared.

“You gave it all to her?” he asked, and you nodded with smile.

Draco didn’t understand what he was feeling right there with you, but he didn’t want it to stop. This was the happiest he had felt in weeks.

**********************************************************************

Draco’s sporadic buy of coffee turned into daily visits, sometimes accompanied by Theo, but mostly only him. He had his preferred seat, near where you took the orders and prepared the coffee. It was rare the occasion that someone sat on the bar, the place used by lonely customers. It became Draco’s predetermined place.

“Draco,” you said, one day when all the clients were happy and away with their orders “Don’t get me wrong, I love your visits and that you spend so much time here,” he raised an eyebrow when you paused, looking for the right words “Don’t you have a work to go to?”

His entire expression changed, he looked tormented and sad at the same time. He placed his cup down, avoiding your eyes “I’m supposed to be on vacations.” he said in you frown in confusion.

“Draco, as flattered as I am, my coffee shop is not a vacation destination.” you told him and he chuckled, daring to meet your eyes.

“No, I-,” he sighed in defeat “I was supposed to be on my honeymoon right now.” he said.

“What?” you asked leaning in the counter, holding your head in your hands “What happened?”

“She wasn’t my soulmate,” he said bitterly “Zabini ended up being her soulmate and now they are planning their wedding.”

You were very confused and he could tell by the look on your face “Apparently she found a way to fake the bond, did it on me before she found out he was her soulmate.”

You scoffed, and he meet your eyes “What a bitch move.” you mumbled, realizing that you said it out loud “No offense, but you should never do that to someone. Not even I’m that desperate.” you laughed, walking to the register to take Dave’s order. The sweet man that had found your shop the same day Draco and his gang had the first time.

But Draco was focused on the words you had said. Not even I’m that desperate:

You didn’t have a soulmate yet. A spark of hope made his heart flutter as he watched you give the man his order, a kind smile always on your face as you waved him goodbye.

Maybe not all was lost.

**********************************************************************

“You didn’t have to stay so late.” you told Draco, his tall frame leaned against the door as he watched you put in place the last chair. “I literally live here, well, not here but upstairs,” you laughed “You know what I mean.” you said, your face changing to a concerned one “Draco?”

He had stayed silent, through all the cleaning process he had help you wash and put everything in place. You didn’t find it odd, the man was suffering and he had relived all that by sharing it with you. You let him to his thoughts for a moment.

But now he was watching you intently, almost as he was admiring you. You started to feel shaky, and even more when he took a hesitant step towards you, his eyes lighting up when you didn’t take one back yourself.

“Draco, what are you doing?” you asked shakily, crossing your arms over your chest as a way to physically shield you from his burning eyes.

“I want to ty something,” he said, his grey eyes shifting to your hand before they meet your E/C ones. He was inches away from you, if your breathing became any more deeper you chests would brush against each other. But you knew that wouldn’t work.

It had to be your skin against his.

“Y/N?” he called again and you looked at him with glossy eyes, the tears barely staying there. “Can I?” he asked you, his voice so soft you barely heard him.

“I don’t...What if it’s not us?” you asked him, the crack in your voice paining him more than any other thing he had ever gone through.

He took a shaky breath “Do you trust me?” he asked you. You nodded your head immediately and he smiled softly “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” he said, leaning down slightly.

He took one last look at you and then he grabbed your hand.

A cry of pain left your mouth as you felt the warmth spread all over your body, the heat concentrated in your wrist where his hand had touched you. The burning sensation was quickly washed away by his grey eyes on you. The warm feeling of the bond replaced by the cold feeling of his hand.

Draco Malfoy was your soulmate.

You laughed breathlessly, looking at his hand in your wrist before you faced him again. A smile that mirrored your own in his face.

You threw your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise as he stumbled back a little. He placed his hands on your waist and brought you closer to him, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. He kissed you so softly, running his hand up and down your back, landing again on your sides.

You had your fingers tangled in his hair before he pulled away from you, his eyes still closed before he opened them to see the brightest smile he had ever seen. You kept on playing with his hair, placing soft kisses on his cheeks.

“You taste like carrot cake.”

He chuckled resting his head on your shoulder as he hugged you, letting you hold him as you scratched his scalp with your fingertips. “That’s all your fault,” he muttered, letting go of his hold on you. “I’m glad I found you.” he said, giving you a quick kiss.

“I’m glad I found you too.”

TAGS: @fanficflaneuse @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @coldlilheart @aasthapiplani @nebulablakemurphy @strawberriesonsummer @l1teralegend @infinity1o1 @nevermore9292 @artist-bby @not-today-anxiety

@thatfann @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @starcross16 @bunny-bois @harddonutalmondhound

#Requests #harry potter requests #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #post war #soulmate!au #theodore nott #blaise zabini

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kitazura · 3 years

Text

it’s the thought that counts, tendō satori

1.6k words of fluff; gn!reader

synopsis: tendō doesn’t understand the excitement surrounding valentine’s day until he decides to celebrate it with you.

notes: i haven’t finished the manga but i’m making timeskip content :D thank u rissie (@sugas-cookie) for beta-ing mwah <3

Tendō’s come to learn that Valentine’s day brings waves of purchases made by eager youth preparing to confess their affections, frantic lovers who’d completely forgotten about the occasion, and other last-minute shoppers looking for gifts to give their loved ones. This year is no different; the orders pile up so quickly he can barely keep up with them.

He’s not complaining—not when his bills are getting paid—he just doesn’t understand why everyone lets themselves get carried away by the Valentine rush. At the root of it all, it’s blatant commercialism, another scheme by society to run your bank account dry through obligatory benevolence, so why play into it? Well, as long as it keeps him in business, he supposes he’ll keep his critiques to himself.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little cynical?” you say when he shares his thoughts, the gentle smile on your lips showing you mean no harm. “I think the idea behind Valentine’s day is charming.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, humming in response. “Why’s that?”

“Isn’t it sweet when someone puts time and effort into something just for you?” you gush. Tendō watches your gaze turn dreamy as your mind wanders off into the clouds. “Like making chocolates for the person you like.”

“That’s what I do for a living, darling.”

“You like all of your customers?”

“Of course; they give me money, after all.”

You laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “I guess it’s hard to romanticize something you do as work.”

You’re not wrong. At some point, it’s expected for your job to lose its magic, no matter how passionate you are about it in the beginning. Chocolate has long lost its allure to Tendō, and now he spends day in and day out pouring it into molds and hurrying to shape it before it hardens beyond salvation. It’s become a chore for him, and even just catching a whiff of a candy bar sends his brain into the stress of work mode.

“What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“What an odd question,” he remarks, clicking his tongue like a fussy mother hen. “I think about what I have to do to make it look presentable, of course. And then I count down the minutes until I come home to you.” He beams, proud of his response.

But pride turns to dismay when he catches a glint of disappointment in your eyes. His expression falls as he pulls you closer. “What’s the matter?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Would you ever make me Valentine’s day chocolates?”

He tilts his head in surprise, then kisses your forehead. “I’d make you chocolate any day; all you have to do is ask.”

You seem to drop the matter, although he swears you sigh, “It’s not the same.”

He spends the next couple of days convincing himself he’d only imagined it, but something about your tone and attitude makes it stick in his brain. Whether you’d said it or not, there was clearly something behind your first question.

He asks you about it over dinner: “Is there a reason you want Valentine-themed chocolates in particular?”

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You laugh a little, surprised. “It’s not the Valentine theme I want; just the knowledge that you’re thinking of me on that day.”

He pesters you to elaborate—he’s always thinking of you, don’t you know that?—but you dodge his questions, leaving him in the dark once more.

Since you won’t give him any answers, he’ll just look for them on his own.

He texts Ushijima that night: “Why do you buy chocolate for the one you love?”

“Because they like it,” comes the reply. It’s simple, straightforward, but it’s not what he’s looking for.

He texts Semi the same question. The response is the length of a school essay, explaining the motivations of love in depths only a poet could reach, but it’s still not enough.

At work, your question echoes in his mind: What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?

What was he supposed to think about aside from the process? His customers?

He looks again at the order he’s making. It’s one he expects every year—it comes a week before Valentine’s, by a man whose wife adores chocolate covered strawberries. Tendō remembers it not only because of its consistency, but also because it’s always preceded by an order by the aforementioned wife, who asks for milk chocolate filled with raspberry créme that her husband is so fond of.

He wonders why they order the same thing at the same time every year. There’s no surprise in it, so what’s the point? Had he been in the husband’s place and you in the wife’s, he’d make sure to buy you something different every year, each present more extravagant than the last. He’d make sure that you’d always have something to look forward to in your married life.

A cheery little tune takes form beneath his breath as he pictures a life with you: silver bands around your fingers, lazy mornings on your days off, walks along the Seine.

He sweeps the excess chocolate off the molds in one clean stroke, sighing dreamily. You would buy a bigger, better apartment once you’d saved up enough, or even move to a quiet little cottage in the countryside.

His thoughts wander through the clouds as he mindlessly flits from one project to the next, forgetting to count the hours until his duty for today is through.

Lately, some of Tendō’s usual customers have been dropping by to say the same thing: there’s something different about his work these days. It’s not negative; on the contrary, actually, the quality’s spiked. But he can’t figure out what he’s been doing differently for the life of him.

It weighs on his mind from the time he clocks in to when he clocks out. He’s been using the same ingredients, the same equipment, so what was it?

His answer arrives in the form of the Chocolate Strawberry man, on the very eve of Valentine’s.

The man enthusiastically shakes Satori’s hand and thanks Him for his work, his hands warm and clammy from excitement despite the biting Parisian air.

“My wife would have liked to come along as well, but she’s preoccupied with the baby,” the man explains. “She wants you to know how much she enjoys your work, though. We look forward to it every year.”

“Then why not buy it off-season, when it’s cheaper?” Tendō asks. The man looks surprised, prompting him to continue. “With all due respect, you order the same thing every year, anyway, so why wait?”

The man laughs at the sincere look of curiosity in the chocolatier’s eyes, patting him on the shoulder, like a father to his son. “Why wait until birthdays to buy a cake? Why wait until Christmas to exchange gifts and set up the tree? It’s old advice, but it’s good: it’s always the thought that counts.” With one last pat on the back and an affectionate chuckle, the man wishes Tendō a good night—“Enjoy tomorrow with your loved ones.”

The stores are packed with the usual extremely last minute rush on Valentine’s morning, and for the first time, Tendō Satori is part of that crowd.

His arms are filled with the goodies he’d woken up early to buy: heavily discounted candies in tacky packages, a cheesy card, a bouquet, an offensively pink stuffed bear, crumpled foil balloons. (He’d made chocolates for you too; those were waiting in the fridge at home.) If it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you wanted, he decided, then it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you’d get.

He’d sent you out to pick up a cake across the city just before he’d left that morning, so the apartment is still empty when he returns. He checks his watch—only half an hour at most until you’d come back. Setting the bear on the counter, he gives it a determined grin.

“Think I can set everything up in fifteen?”

He’s just barely managed tying the balloons closed when he hears the knob on the front door jiggle as you unlock it.

“I’m home!” Your shoes thud to the floor, joined by Tendō’s footsteps as he hurries to help you with the cake. You thank him when he takes it out of your hands and leads you to the dining table while you chatter away. “Boy, did you see how many people are out there? It’s like all of Paris decided to run their errands this morning. It’s a miracle I got the cake here in one piece—what’s all this?”

Tendō grins, proudly motioning to his handiwork. The bouquet sits in the center of the table, surrounded by neatly arranged dishes of your favorite foods. The plush bear sits at the head, the card and candies tucked into its paws. Balloons reading “Happy Valentine’s” are tied to your chairs, gently swaying to and fro in greeting.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I figured you wanted to do something for Valentine’s, but all the restaurants are booked so I had to improvise—”

You cut him off with a kiss, and another, then another. “I love it! I love you and I love”—you wave at the room—“all of this.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me, Satori.”

He laughs as you hug him, squeezing as tight as you can. He thinks back to the strawberry man’s remark, “It’s the thought that counts.” And maybe, just a little, he’s starting to understand that there’s more to Valentine’s than business.

As you prepare the cake and gush over the bear, he pats the pocket of his jacket. The pretty little velvet box would have to wait until after lunch.

postscript: heyyy <3 i stopped writing for like three months srry LMAO but im back in business baby !! if i try hard enough and school stops kicking my ass maybe i’ll start posting twice a month ahaha ... unless?

#haikyuu fluff #tendou fluff #hq fluff #tendou satori #tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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bothcreativitybois · 3 years

Text

The Mayor’s Sweet Treat Chapter 1

Description: Small town AU where mayor Remus knew everyone, until a cute baker opened shop in his town. Patton is struggling to keep open the small bakery while his mother is gone. Then the rambunctious and rowdy Remus appears and vows to save him.

Ships: Intruality

TW: Swearing, stress, crying, slight burn, implied past bad relationship, food (obviously), sexual references (it’s Remus)

Taglist (ask if you want to be added): @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper

The old green truck rumbled down the road. Remus rubbed his stubble and tried to neaten his hair out but it didn’t do much.

How did I miss the opening of a new shop? What’s wrong with me?

-A few minutes earlier-

“Uhg this meeting sucks.” Remus groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Why do we have to do them every Monday morning?” His coffee wasn’t enough. He contemplated where he could get something stronger.

“Be my assistant Virgil. I need you Virgil.” He mocked his employers past words.

“Remus, you’re the mayor.” Virgil reminded him. “I know you have trouble paying attention but you need to listen. For your citizens.” The assistant looked over his notes as his employer whined.

“I already know what everyone thinks.” Remus defended. “Mrs Patty needs more wheelchair access, the berry farms proposed an idea to work with the high school to get more workers and Janus was caught spray painting again. It’s not hard to keep track when there are only like 100 people.” Virgil smiled smugly and looked up from his notes.

“So you know about the bakery reporting losses?” Virgil asked. Remus sat up and looked at him dumbly.

“We have a bakery?” Remus was dumbfounded.

“It’s new. Opened 5 months ago.” Virgil informed as he threw some papers on the desk. “The owner asked if there was any assistance we could provide the- Remus?” Remus was already jingling his keys.

“I’ll be back soon.” Remus said as he left. Virgil sighed.

Remus thought as he drove. He looked at the store fronts trying to find what had changed. They all looked the same. General store, Salamander Silk clothes store, café he’d just gotten another coffee from, Sammy’s restaurant, the closed down florist- wait. The widows weren’t blocked anymore. Remus pulled up in front of the building and got out of his truck. He didn’t bother locking it, there was only one criminal in the town and it was his best friend. There were no new signs on the building, but the old signs were gone. The windows were uncovered but the door was closed.

Remus wasn’t sure where the bakery was exactly but there was only one street of shops so it wouldn’t be hard to find.

Maybe the Ahujas opened a bakery? I’ve always loved Nisa’s kaju katli.

“It couldn’t be here…” Remus said to no one. He trampled up to the door to check if it was unlocked, it was. He swung it open and was greeted with a sweet scent and bright colours. The walls had new light blue wallpaper and the old stone floor had a cute pink rug trying to cover the large crack. “Are you open?!” Remus shouted past the displays of baked goods.

There was a crash.

Patton worked lazily on the cake in front of him. He tried not to let his tears get in the lovely icing he’d just finished flattening.

No one is coming anyway. Why bother?

He usually could control these thoughts but this morning he was tired and stressed. He hadn��t had a single customer for a month, he was reaching the last of his back-up funds. Patton dropped the icing spatula and pushed away from the cake for a break, the rolling stool he was on slid to the wall.

It was a mistake. No one wants you here. I should’ve stayed wit-

A ding cut through the room. Patton realised he was now full on crying. His cheeks were warmer than the bread he’d made this morning. He stood shakily and walked to the oven, he couldn’t let them just sit there. He put on his green oven mitts and opened the industrial ovens. The muffins sat there, plump and cute. He slowly reached up to get the heavy pan out. Benefit of a large pan is being able to make two dozen at a time, the downside was carrying two dozen dense muffins at once. He’d built up a little muscle these past few weeks hauling the flour himself but it didn’t help much.

“Oh fuck uh…” The tall figure said, Patton hadn’t quite looked up to see them properly yet. Remus frantically looked around for something to help the man clutching his arm. A sink. Remus grabbed the small man’s good arm and dragged him to the large sink. The tall person pulled Patton to the sink and turned on the water for him. He let go of his arm and shakily took off his oven mitt and put his arm under the stream of water.

“Are you open?!” A voice shouted through the small building. Patton turned in shock, accidentally hitting both the pan and part of his arm against the oven door. He dropped the pan and clutched his arm.

“Ah!” He let out a small noise. There were heavy footsteps and a tall man appeared next to him. Patton felt his tears rise back up. Not from pain, he was used to burns, but he was overwhelmed.

“Can you get that pan I dropped?” The smaller man muttered quietly. Remus looked across the room to see a pan of what looked like muffins in front of the oven. Thankfully it had landed without sending any muffins flying. He walked over and picked up the still hot pan. Patton turned to warn the tall person the pan was hot but was met with Remus holding the metal easily. The tall man was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt and some ratty black jeans, a stark contrast to Patton’s light blue t-shirt and pink apron and pants. The man had stubble that thickened along his upper lip and long brown hair pulled back into a messy bun. Remus placed the tray down and looked at Patton, his cheeks were red and he could see tears clouding his eyes. He noticed how much Patton was shaking.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, concerned. Patton turned away and focused on his arm.

“Yeah, you get used to burns.” Patton said weakly. He knew that wasn’t what Remus asked but hoped he’d get away with that answer. Remus knew what he was doing but decided not to press the man he’d just met. Patton took his arm out of the cold water and turned to Remus. “So who are you? A prince in shining cowboy boots?” Patton laughed weakly at the black square toe boots.

“Oh right.” Remus suddenly remembered why he was here. “I’m Remus.” He reached out a hand for a handshake. Patton took one look at the dirty hand then looked back up at Remus.

“I’m Patton.” He introduced himself happily. Remus realised his hands were dirty and pulled back. Patton giggled. Something about that giggle made Remus smile. “So Remus what do you do other than scaring innocent bakers?” Patton joked as he walked to his muffins.

“I scare innocent baristas.” Remus retorted, Patton laughed and wiped his face. “But if you mean work, I’m the mayor.” Patton looked up in a mix of doubt and surprise. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that. Actually I’m more surprised I don’t know you. Did you go to Mindville Public?” Remus referenced the public high school which was the only one in town.

“Oh no. I just moved here actually.” Patton answered. He began removing the muffins one by one. “Came here to start the bakery with my mother, but she had to go back to the city for some stuff so it’s just been me for a few months.” That made sense to Remus. It was unlikely that just one person ran this place. But he still wasn’t sure how he hadn’t heard of the bakery opening.

“I would’ve visited earlier but I didn’t know you were… well… existed.” Remus rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Patton sighed.

“Yeah, it seems no one does.” Patton said dejectedly as he took out the final muffin. He picked up the now cool tray and moved past Remus to put it in the sink. Remus caught a sad look in his eyes as he passed, a look that even though they’d just met he could tell was not usual. Remus walked over and put a hand on Patton’s shoulder.

“Hey, you're one of my citizens now.” Remus stated and turned Patton to face him. Patton saw a sparkle of determination in Remus’ eyes. “I’d do anything to help my citizens.” They lingered close to each other. Patton began to tear up, then quickly wrapped Remus in a hug. Remus raised his arms as the small man squeezed his ribs, Remus looked down at Patton. He realised how tired he looked, he blushed as he buried his face into Remus. Patton pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“Sorry… it’s been hard these past few days and... “ Patton looked up at Remus, eyes catching each other. “Thank you.” Patton looked tired, sad and weak. Remus felt a sense of protectiveness rise in his chest. Everyone in town was rowdy and strong, that’s what happens when you’re raised in the country, but Patton was different.

“Remus!” A voice shouted from outside the building. The men looked out the windows to see a tall lanky man with dark hair falling over his face.

“Who’s that?” Patton starred as Remus began walking out of the kitchens. Remus sighed.

“My assistant. I have to go.” Remus said, then he stopped and turned to Patton. “How much are those muffins.” Patton beamed. He picked up one of the still warm muffins and threw it to Remus.

“They’re carrot cake and walnut.” Patton laughed. “Just stop by tomorrow and tell me what you think of them.” Remus nodded. He pulled out a card and a five dollar bill then put both on the counter.

“I’ll call you.” Remus winked. Patton felt his chest tighten, but in a good way. He waved as Remus walked out to Virgil.

“You can’t just drop out of meetings like that!” Virgil scolded as Remus walked out. Virgil saw an all too familiar crooked smirk on Remus’ face. “Oh no. No no no. What are you planning?” Remus took a bite out of the muffin, the aromatic flavours tingled against his tongue.

“I’m gonna save the bakery.” He said.

“Okay that actually seems reaso-”

“Then get the cute baker to grab my cake.”

“-there it is.”

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #sanders sides small town au #intruality #ts remus #remus sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic intruxiety #ts janus #janus sanders #roman took over

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

Seeing You Again

Title: Seeing You Again

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 10,871

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Virginity Loss, Implications of Depression, Smut, Love Lost, Divorce, Tears. Jensen is an innocent, love struck sweetheart.

Summary: Fifteen years had passed since you had seen the love of your life, Jensen Ackles. Your childhood sweetheart, the man of your dreams. The two of you separated against your wishes. Until he walks into your bakery one day without knowing you owned it. You never expected old feelings to resurface, let alone something more

Square Filled: Childhood Sweethearts ( @spnfluffbingo) First Time ( @spngenrebingo)

A/N: Happy Tuesday!! My posting schedule is remaining the same from now until the middle of August. You get a new update every Tuesday and Sunday!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy reading!

You tied your apron around your waist, making sure it was secure before bunching up your hair in a quick messy bun. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and you had multiple things on the go already.

You were a baker; at least that was one of your job titles anyways. Business owner, workaholic, you name it. You lived a busy life. You worked six days a week at the bakery you owned in Dallas Texas, and had for the last three years. A successful little place you called Sweethearts. A name you had picked out for longer than you’d ever admit to anyone.

Every day was something new. A new order, or arrangement of orders. New faces, and familiar faces. The same smiles and thank you’s you got with every purchase. It was something you loved doing. You loved to bake and you loved to see the look on people’s faces when they picked up one of your creations for someone they loved.

This was your dream, believe it or not. You had always wanted to own your own business and be your own boss. You were never one for following the rules, no matter who the leader was. You never wanted to be some corporate lawyer, or a nine to five, hating every second of life kind of person. You wanted every day to be an adventure. You wanted to be independent.

You rolled out the fondant on your bakers table, getting ready to throw it over your double chocolate cookie cake for a special order. A lady wanted something special for her son’s tenth birthday so you were making a cookie monster cake in hopes he’d like it. In the distance, the timer for your oven went off, indicating that your in house pie was done.

Saturday’s were typically busy days. Today was no different. Thankfully you had most of your orders done for the morning. It was only this cake that needed finished before you could take a break and make some simple cookies.

“Hey Y/N, someone wants to see you,” your assistant called back. You wiped your hands on your apron as you walked out into the front of your shop. An older lady was standing there, a wide smile playing on her lips.

“Hi there,” you greeted her.

“Are you the owner of this place?” she asked.

“Why yes I am,” you nodded. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I just wanted to give compliments to you. You run a very nice business. The treats are out of this world. In all my time, I’ve never had a chocolate chip cookie taste so good,” she beaned.

“Thank you! That means a lot to me,” you nodded with a smile.

“If you’re not already taken, my grandson would love a woman like you,” she teased, adjusting her jacket around her arms.

“I’m married to my work,” you told her. “Someone has to make all the orders.”

“Well, you let me know,” she winked. “Take care now.”

You waved the older lady off, watching her walk out the front door of your shop. Each seat was taken. You watched as people sipped away at their coffees and every one of them had some sort of baked good from your display. You were finally doing something right.

“You know, you’re going to have to settle down someday,” your assistant, Victoria smiled at you.

“I know,” you sighed. “Someday.”

You walked into the back, getting back into finishing your cake. It needed to be done in less than an hour for the woman picking it up. You had to get your blue buttercream ready for the top of the cake, and the few cookies you had set aside to finish the top. It was going to be a breeze. You couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she saw the cake. The customer's reaction was always one of your favourite things. You loved seeing their smile.

You took a deep breath, mixing up the buttercream and food colouring to get the correct consistency. Your mind wandered back to the older lady for a moment. Sure you were thirty one, but you had tons of time to settle down and find someone to spend the rest of your life with. Right now, you were a business woman. You had that and it was one hundred percent what your focus was on. You needed to continue to be successful. Relationships were overrated anyways.

You poured the buttercream into the piping bag and began your design. You were excited to see how this was going to turn out. If it was good, it was definitely going on your instagram page.

You could feel the sweat forming at your brow as you continued the last strokes on the cake. It looked amazing if you were to say so yourself. It turned out much better than you were expecting it to, times a million. This was definitely going to make that ten year old’s birthday.

“Customer is here for the cake order,” Victoria called back to you.

“Coming right out.”

You boxed up the cake in a nice blue one you had custom made for purposes like this. It already said happy birthday on the side, along with some balloons. It was all about making the customer happy. You carefully lifted it off the counter and headed out to the front of the store with it in hand.

“Alright, cookie monster cake,” you smiled, placing it down on the counter by the register, opening it up. “Cookie dough cake inside, along with homemade chocolate chip cookies on top and a blue buttercream topping,” you smiled proudly, looking down at your cake.

“Gotta say Y/N, I always knew you’d be successful,” a deep voice said. You hadn’t even looked up at the customer yet. That voice was so familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on who it was. Until you finally glanced up. Those piercing green eyes boring into yours.

“J-Jensen?” you breathed out.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he smiled at you.

“W-what are you doing here?” you cocked your head to the side.

“My sister in law sent me to pick up the cake for my nephews tenth birthday,” he said. “I had no idea this was your place. Although, I have to say, it’s very you if I remember correctly.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“Uh, twenty two dollars,” you breathed out.

“Do you accept tips?” he questioned as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Perfect. All I have is a fifty. Keep the change, sweetheart,” he winked. “You certainly deserve it. This cake looks perfect.”

“Thanks Jensen,” you swallowed hard, not daring to take your eyes off of him. That fucking nickname. The whole reason why this place was called Sweethearts. The man you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Take care.”

You watched as he walked out the door with the box in his hands. You couldn’t believe it. Out of all the people you expected to walk in, he was never one of them. The man you had grown up with. The first and only man you had every loved with your whole heart. The one that slipped away.

“Who was that?” Melaine, your part time girl who helped keep your shop in working order.

“Just some guy I used to know a long time ago,” you smiled at her.

“Did you guys used to be together?” she inquired as she poured a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, for a while,” you breathed out.

“Well, with the way he was looking at you, I’d say there is definitely some feelings still there,” she chuckled. “I wish my boyfriend looked at me the way Jensen just looked at you.”

“Who was looking at who?” Victoria popped her head out and asked.

“A very hot customer was looking at Y/N. Apparently they have history,” Melanie wiggled her eyebrows.

“Shut up,” you shook your head, trying to repress your smile.

“Awwww,” Victoria cooed.

“He had heart eyes for her. Major heart eyes,” she beamed.

“You guys, he’s an old friend. Nothing more. Now we’re dropping it,” you stated before walking back into the kitchen to begin your clean up.

Your heart was still racing in your chest. It had been a really long time since you had seen Jensen in person. Sure, you followed all of his social media and kept up with what he was doing. He was an actor and had been for the longest time. He was successful at what he wanted to do and you cheered him on from your own tiny part of the world. But seeing him again after all this time, it wasn’t easy. It made you realize just how much you missed the way he’d call you sweetheart. You missed that in the sound of his voice, which was a lot deeper than it was the last time you heard it directed at you.

The afternoon dragged on and four became six. Victoria and Melaine cleaned everything out front and took a few things to go home. You were left with closing up and counting the money made in sales before you could head home. You were just packaging up the last of the cookies when you heard the ding of the door.

“Sorry, we’re closed now. We open back up on Monday,” you called out, closing the packet.

“Uh, sorry,” the familiar voice said, causing you to look up. Jensen was standing by the door with a nervous look on his face. You swallowed hard, not knowing where exactly you should look at him.

“Jensen,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” he half smiled, taking a step forward.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly, instantly cursing yourself for it. “Did your nephew like his cake?”

“Oh yeah,” he let out a chuckle. “Said it was the best birthday cake he’s ever had.”

“Good, I’m glad,” you nodded.

“How long have you been in Texas?” he asked, making his way over to the counter.

“Almost thirteen years now,” you told him.

“T-thirteen years?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I hated it in Minnesota.”

“You’ve always been a Texan at heart,” he smirked, going quiet for a moment. “You know, you’re even more beautiful now than you were fifteen years ago.”

“Jensen,” your cast your eyes down, unsure of what to say. “We’re not the same people we were back then.”

“I know,” he nodded, licking his bottom lip before he looked at you. “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

“What are you doing here, Jensen?” you asked him, opening up the package of cookies, motioning for him to take one.

“I - uh,” he paused, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “I was hoping that maybe I’d catch you before you headed home. Uh, maybe see if you would want to go out for dinner? Catch up?”

“You sure you want to do that mister famous actor?” you teased him, watching his chest fall as he let out a laugh.

“So you’ve been keeping up a little,” he said with a chuckle.

“Here and there,” you shrugged. “I do have to finish up here before I do anything.”

“Anything I can help with?” He offered as he took a cookie from the packet. You smiled, closing it right, trying not to look at Jensen. “These taste amazing. They are even better than I remember.”

“Same recipe I used before,” you told him. “If you want to pack up the rest of these while I do the deposit, I’d appreciate it. I know it’s not what you’re used to.”

“Nah. Put me to work,” he assured you.

You showed him where the containers were and he got to work instantly, starting from the right side of the display, moving onwards. You headed over to the cash, taking out the register to bring it to your office which was right by the display.

“How long has this place been open?” Jensen asked you.

“Almost three years,” you answered, emptying out the till.

“Gotta say, you’re pretty successful here,” he told you. “Lots of customers. Bakery is amazing. I always thought you’d open up one in Minnesota.”

“I couldn’t wait to leave,” you admitted. “I lasted two years before I came back to Texas. It’s always been my home.”

“Your mom still there?”

“Yeah, with her boyfriend dickwad,” you shared. “At least, that’s what I call him. Not the biggest fan of him if you couldn’t tell.”

“Your dad here then?”

“He’s around here somewhere. He stopped talking to me after mom took me away after the divorce was finalized,” you revealed. “Now, he doesn’t talk to me much.”

“That sucks,” he frowned.

“How long are you visiting for?” You dared to ask.

“Few days before I head back. Changed my flight,” he said lowly.

“When were you supposed to leave?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“Tomorrow at three in the morning,” he said sheepishly. “But I knew as soon as I saw you-“

“Jensen, dont,” you swallowed hard.

“C’mon, it’s not like we parted on bad terms,” he reminded you. “It’s not like either of us had a choice in the matter. You were leaving to move a million miles away.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But It’s different now. I’m not sixteen anymore. You’re not sixteen.”

“No. I’m thirty one,” he reminded you. “Back then, we didn’t have cell phones or whatever. It’s different now, but at the same time, it feels exactly the same.”

“It’s not going to work,” you shook your head.

“Okay, say you are right,” he paused, glancing over to you in the office. “Will you at least hang out with me for one night?”

“Considering you probably aren’t going to leave until I say yes, fine,” you stated.

“You’re not wrong,” he shrugged.

You finished counting up the money from the day and put it in the safe before locking it up. You pulled your keys out, grabbing your jacket before shutting the door behind you. You took a deep breath, seeing Jensen standing there waiting in anticipation. You knew this was going to be a mistake. You knew it the second he walked in here that this was a mistake. Too much time had gone by between you and you couldn’t let yourself snap back into what the two of you had before you parted ways.

“Ready?” he asked you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, tightening your jacket around yourself. Jensen placed his hand on your back, walking with you towards the front doors of your little shop. You pulled your purse over your shoulder before switching keys to lock up the place.

He stood by the curb, his hand in the air to hail a taxi to take the two of you wherever. You could feel your stomach getting tighter. You were nervous. Something you hadn’t felt around a guy in a very long time.

A taxi pulled over to the side of the road, stopping right in front of you and Jensen. You let out a shaky breath as he opened up the door, motioning for you to get in first. He joined you seconds later, shutting the door.

“Hi, could you drop us off at Beertown please,” Jensen said to the driver. A young man who simply nodded his head without a word. It took everything in you not to look over at Jensen. You wanted to so bad. You wanted to see if the freckles still dusted over his cheeks. You wanted to see the greens of his eyes and get lost in the millions of stories he had seen over the years.

It was a short ride to the restaurant he was taking you to. One of the ones you frequented growing up. You were never legal to drink, but the food was amazing and so was the atmosphere. It was where he took you for your first date. One you’d never forget. You were more nervous about this dinner than you were on the first date.

He helped you out of the taxi and led you to the front door of the restaurant. You took another deep breath, trying to control yourself as the waiter led you to your table in the back. Somewhere a little more private as Jensen asked for.

“It feels like it was a lifetime ago that we were here,” he commented.

“It was a lifetime ago,” you said. “We were fifteen. Still in high school.”

“Back when everything was simple and all we had to worry about was finals,” he chuckled.

“That and I remember worrying about my parents fighting all the time. ‘T’s why I spent so much time with you at your place. Your family always got along, unlike mine. I liked it there,” you shared.

“It sucked a lot when you were gone,” he swallowed hard. “I know we parted on good terms but it was hard without you.”

“Least you had your friends though,” you reminded him.

“I still have your letter,” he confessed. “In my apartment in Vancouver. I still have it.”

“Really?” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I wrote you back and then never heard from you again.”

“Mom was pissed at me,” you sighed. “Moving away from everything and everyone I knew was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. It was worse when she didn’t listen to me when I told her I was struggling. Failed three classes my last semester of high school. Managed to get into UT and left. I was homesick and I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he stated. “Hell, I went to prom with my buddies.”

“I think we made it worse for ourselves though, Jensen,” you breathed out.

“Hey there. What can I get for the two of you?” the waiter smiled, pulling out her notepad.

“We’ll have two classic burgers, some fries and two of whatever you have on tap please,” Jensen told him.

“Coming right up,” he nodded, taking off to the next table.

“What do you mean you think we made things worse?” he cocked his head to the side, folding his arms on the table.

“I think you know exactly what I mean, Jay,” you said lowly.

“Are you - do you mean the night before you left?” he furrowed his brows. “The night we-”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Do you regret it?” he inquired.

“No. Of course not. But it made everything a million times harder,” you revealed. “It was all I could think about from the time I left until I got there. Even then, I thought it wasn’t going to be so bad because we were both applying to UT and we were going to see each other again soon enough.”

“But I didn’t,” he frowned. “I left for LA instead.”

“It is what it is,” you nodded. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not proud of you. I want you to know that. I’ve been following you from the start. I watch every episode, and every movie. I’ve seen your interviews and I follow all your accounts on everything. Hell I’ve even seen some convention footage.”

“I wish I could do the same with you,” he brought up. “Trust me, I’ve looked and haven’t been successful so far. Made me wonder if you got married and changed your name.”

“No. I’m not married,” you chuckled. “Not to anyone at least. Work maybe.”

“Here are your meals and your beer. Enjoy!” the waiter smiled as he placed everything down on the table. He even brought some ketchup for the fries and a bottle of vinegar. You gave him a warm smile with your thank you, looking forward to diving in.

“What about you?” you dared to ask.

“What about me?” he furrowed his brows.

“C’mon, a guy like you has to have a girlfriend,” you teased him.

“Nope,” he shook his head, picking up his burger.

“Yeah, I find that very hard to believe. Girls were always fawning over you in high school and I’ve seen what people say about you on the internet,” you giggled.

“See, the only one that mattered to me was you. You have had my attention since I met you in kindergarten,” he let out a laugh. “My parents always said we were childhood sweethearts.”

“We were,” you agreed. “You were my first everything, Jensen. Quite frankly, I’m glad you were too.”

“Why is that?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“Because you treated me like a queen,” you shrugged, taking a fry off the plate. “You treated me better than anyone’s first boyfriend does at that age. You set my expectations high, which is why I’m not married or with anyone. No one can live up to the simple standards you set when we were sixteen years old.”

“Good,” he declared. “You deserve to be treated like a queen. Don’t settle for anything less. I was honoured to be your knight in shining armour.”

“You mean king?” you corrected him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m simply a knight, sweetheart.” And just like that, you melted into the seat. You felt like you were sixteen again, sitting in the passenger's seat of his truck, staring out at the sunset in the field. The little moments that meant a lot to you.

“Well I beg to differ, darlin’,” you winked, trying to play it cool. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. How could it possibly feel like no time had passed between you? Fifteen years had gone by and yet, you connected if it was just yesterday.

“I missed that,” he smirked.

“What?” you cocked your head to the side.

“You calling me darlin’, or honey,” he admitted almost nervously. “For the record, you made me feel like a king, even if I was a knight.”

You grabbed your burger off your plate, finally taking a bite from it. The flavours danced on your tastebuds, bringing you back. This whole night was filled with nostalgia. You came to the conclusion that this couldn’t happen again after tonight. It was too hard to sit with him, and reminisce about how great things were many years ago. It was hard to sit with him and look at his soft features you had spent so much time with and know that it was in the past. Jensen was your best friend growing up. He was your rock. Your light in the darkness. But you couldn’t let him back into your life again and have things go sour this time around. You needed to keep those happy memories happy. Not turn them into something you have to speak to a therapist about in two years.

“When do you leave?” you asked him, taking a sip of your beer.

“Monday night,” he answered, taking a fry off the plate. “So I’m here another day and a bit.”

“I’m sure your parents are happy to see you,” you half smiled.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They think I work too much. I don’t visit often enough according to them.”

“Your parents are cute,” you giggled. “They still have your bedroom in tact?”

“No actually. They did some renovations on the house and turned my room into one of the kids rooms when they have over the grandkids. I’m staying in a hotel for the next few nights. They have an extra room in the basement for me but it’s not ready yet.”

“Your parents were always the busy type,” you pointed out. “Your mom was always doing something when I was there.”

You watched as Jensen brought his beer up to his lips, taking a good drink of it. Your eyes wandered over his features once more. His soft hair sticking up and leaning a little more to his right. The crinkles by his eyes made you smile, especially when he did. He was handsome and he only got better with age. He had grown into himself now that you allowed yourself to look at him. He wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore.

“Can I get you guys anything for dessert?” the waiter asked as he cleared away your plates.

“No thank you,” you mouth to Jensen.

“No thanks, can we just get the cheque please,” he nodded politely.

You sat still in your seat, reaching for your phone in your purse to check your messages. This wasn’t a date, you reminded yourself. This was acceptable and this was you check on your business. You had no email orders thankfully and everything else looked fine. It was seeming more likely that you could have a day to rest tomorrow instead of in the kitchen. You took a deep breath, hoping that maybe you and Jensen would part ways after this and you could head home to spend the night in your apartment.

The waiter came over, placing the cheque on the table. Before you could even look at it, Jensen had taken out his wallet and placed some money inside it. He never let you pay for dinner, even back then.

“Thank you for dinner, Jensen,” you smiled at him.

“Thank you for joining me,” he half smiled. “Any chance your night is free?”

“What did you have in mind?” you cocked your eyebrow.

“Honestly, nothing. I just don’t want to leave you yet,” he confessed. You were a little confused for a moment. You couldn’t understand why he wanted to spend more time with you. He was a famous actor now. You were a small town girl he was with a million years ago. You had history but this was almost too far. You appreciated his honesty. You just had a bad feeling about this.

“Jensen,” you breathed out, getting up from your seat. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You feel it too?” he asked, almost sheepishly. You licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. Your heart rate picked up a little at his words. There was this awkward tension that had been sitting there with you most of the night, just waiting to make its move. It finally had.

“Feel what, exactly?” you dared to ask.

“This awkward weirdness that’s never been there before,” he pointed out. “Something telling you to walk away.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. You let out a sigh. “But there is also this stupid feeling inside of me that’s stopping me from walking away. That same stupid feeling I got when you asked me to dinner.”

“That same feeling when you saw me earlier today,” he breathed out.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“C’mon,” he motioned for you to follow him. You nodded your head, letting him lead the way out of the restaurant. The sun was starting to set, creating a nice warm orange tone in the sky. Jensen walked down the sidewalk, a few steps ahead of you.

What the hell were you doing? You barely knew him now. He was Jensen Ackles, a well known actor. You were Y/N Y/L/N. You owned a tiny bakery. That was your accomplishment. He had everything and so much more. He was the definition of success. Everyone loved him. You are not about to be a part of that. You were not about to be reckless after years of hard work.

“Jensen wait,” you swallowed hard, as you stopped in front of the park, taking a seat on the bench. He looked at you in confusion before taking a seat next to you.

“What’s up?”

“Where are we going?” you shrugged. “What are we doing?”

“I- I don’t know,” he sighed.

“I can’t do this, Jensen,” you shook your head. “I’m not doing this. I’m sorry. It was really nice seeing you after all this time.”

With that, you got up and started walking the other direction. You couldn’t sit there with him. You could go wherever he was going to take you and you certainly couldn’t let yourself get attached to the idea of loving him again. He was your childhood sweetheart. The one who taught you what love was and how to love someone with everything. Too much time had passed and you were two completely different people now. There was no changing that and you didn’t want to.

“Y/N, wait up,” you heard Jensen call out from behind you, followed by heavy footsteps, indicating that he was running after you.

“Jensen-“

Before you could even get a word out, his lips were on yours, kissing you hard. His hands came up to your cheeks, just like they used to when he kissed you unexpectedly. Your heart was fluttering in your chest and you could feel your lips tingling at the sudden contact. You wanted to reach out for him; pull him in close and kiss him like you used to for hours on end. His lips were soft along with the stubble growing on his face. You couldn’t deny kissing him back as your eyes fluttered shut. His breathing was heavy after running, shortening the kiss by quite a bit.

“Sorry,” he swallowed hard. “I had to.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. Your eyes cast down for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.

“Look, seeing you - it brought up a lot of memories that I don’t think I was ready for. I never really got over you, you know? You were in my life everyday for eleven years and then you were just gone and I barely got to say a proper goodbye.”

“You did,” you assured him. “That last night before when we had sex for the first time. That was goodbye.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said softly. “I don’t want to leave this on bad terms.”

“We’re not going to,” you assured him. His lip curled upwards as his piercing green eyes met yours. You could feel the tension building between the two of you. His words swirling around in your head. He never really got over you, just the same as you never got over him. He was the one you lost all those years ago and it didn’t seem like he was walking away without a fight. Not this time.

“My hotel is just down the street. What do I have to do to convince you to come with me?” he smirked, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Depends,” you played. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing you aren’t comfortable with,” he said. “I just know I'm going to regret it if I don’t ask you.”

His words were honest. For a second, you saw a glimpse of a boy you knew a long time ago. A boy who was willing to do anything to put a smile on your face. Deep down, you knew he was still in there. He had to be for people to talk about him the way they did. He was admired by everyone he worked with.

“Alright,” you agreed, nodding your head.

“I’m not expecting anything-”

“I know,” you smiled.

“So what was Minnesota like?” he asked, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you walked down the sidewalk.

“Shitty,” you scoffed. “People aren’t that nice. After my first class at my new school, I went into the bathroom and cried. It was the first time I had no one and I was terrified. It’s why I came back to Texas. My mom was too busy with her new boyfriend to even notice.”

“You didn’t make any friends?” he furrowed his brows.

“No. Not a single one. I didn’t go to prom. I thought about skipping graduation,” you confessed. “I never want to feel like that again.”

“Anyone ask you to prom?” he cocked his head.

“Yeah, one guy,” you shook your head. “Only because he thought I was a virgin and he wanted to up his score.”

“Really?” he swallowed hard.

“I told him I had a boyfriend with a huge dick and I wasn’t interested in contracting herpes,” you let out a laugh.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, pulling you in tighter to him.

“What about you? How many girlfriends have you had since?” you poked his side playfully.

“Three including you,” he answered. “I didn’t date anyone for a few years after you. I was about twenty when I started dating a girl who was a year younger and that lasted for about a year. She and I just didn’t click after sometime. Then a couple of years later, I met someone who was really cool. We dated for two years before calling it quits. I work too much and so did she. We were just better off without each other.”

“Sucks when you work a lot in a different country,” you breathed out.

“It does,” he agreed. “You dated anyone else?”

“One guy in college for about three years,” you shared. “Justin. Turns out you can date someone for three years and not really know them all that well.”

“Oh really?” he frowned, leading you into the front doors of the hotel.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I called you a king. Well this guy was more like a street rat in the end.”

“Like Aladdin kind of street rat?” he joked playfully.

“Shut up,” you giggled. “Worse. Aladdin at least had a good heart. He got the princess in the end. I’m talking about Jafar here!”

“Fuck that guy,” he stated. “You deserve better than that.”

“I had better than that,” you reminded him. “You ever think about what would have happened if my parents never split and I never would have left?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I always come to the same conclusion though.”

“Which is?”

“You hating me,” he revealed. “If you never left, we would have made it to graduation and I would have left for LA and it would have been a messy break up and you would have hated me. Or I would have accidently knocked you up and ruined your life and you would have hated me. Say that never happened, I work in a different country and the distance would have driven us apart and you would have hated me. No situation has a good outcome.”

“You always were an overthinker,” you teased him.

“So are you,” he chuckled.

He led you over to the elevators on the right side of the hotel lobby. His arm was still around you, tucking you into him. You had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen as soon as you entered his hotel room. You knew his expectations were low, and you understood that. But god, did you miss him. You never really realized until his lips were on yours. Everything came flooding back to you. Suddenly, you were sixteen years old again and nothing had changed.

“Jensen,” you whispered as soon as the elevator doors shut. He leaned over, pressing number twenty seven. “I could never hate you.”

“Yeah, but you could not like me and that’s not something I want,” he admitted. “I’m going to be honest with you here. I know I’m a little off tonight. Not that you could tell, but I can.”

“You’re a little clingy,” you joked, wrapping your arm around his waist.

“My best friend got married two weeks ago,” he sighed. “I was one of his groomsmen at the wedding. I just see him with her and how happy they are, and when I did, the first thought that came to mind was you. I still think about you, more than I should. Maybe it’s because we never really split up for a bad reason. Both of us still had strong feelings for each other and we were ripped apart from each other. Then I saw you today, after looking for you for years, in Texas again and I - I just knew I had to take a chance.”

Your mouth went dry at his words as the elevator doors dinged open on floor twenty seven. You didn’t know exactly what to think. Did he just miss you? Was this a mid life, I’m never going to settle down kind of thing? Was he just thinking of you because of what you had a million years ago. Jensen didn’t know the person you were now. He didn’t know what the last fifteen years of your life were like, and you didn’t know about his.

But that didn’t mean that you didn’t miss him. After all, he was the only man you had ever loved. You were convinced he was the love of your life for the longest time.

“W-which room?” you asked him.

“End of the hall,” he pointed to the left.

You stepped out first, holding out your hand for him to take. He ducked his head down, trying to hide his smile before slipping his hand in yours. His hands were rougher than you remember them being, and a little bit bigger. Engulfing yours in warmth. You could smile without him seeing. You didn’t want to give away the fact that you loved the feeling of his hand in yours again.

“Here,” he stopped you, releasing your hand. You stood next to him, watching him slide the key into the door before the green light flashed. He opened up the door, motioning for you to walk inside.

You could smell the cool hotel room air as soon as you stepped inside. The first thing you noticed was the big window on the other side of the room. It took up the entire part of the wall. The view was beautiful. It was nice to see Dallas from this perspective.

You turned around, seeing Jensen standing behind you with his hands in his jean pockets. He was looking at you with a soft smile playing on his lips. Your eyes darted to the king sized bed in the middle of the room. He had his bag on the chair next to the bed.

“So to continue on from what you said in the elevator,” you paused, “you’re in a bit of a dark place, huh?”

“I was,” he admitted. “Then I saw you today. Randomly, out of the blue. You were just there.”

“Coincidence,” you shrugged.

“Or fate,” he swallowed hard.

“Or fate,” you breathed out. You felt your heart rate picking up as you looked at him.

“You haven’t changed much,” he said lowly. “You’re still kind, and caring. You still laugh at the same things. Back then, I thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful. Until I saw you today.”

“You age like fine wine yourself,” you smirked. “You’re taller, and more muscular.”

“I grew up a bit,” he chuckled.

“Still got your cute lil’ bowlegs though,” you giggled, taking a step towards him.

“Shut up,” he let out a laugh. “God, I want to kiss you again.”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked him, taking a seat on the end of the bed, looking up at him.

“Overthinking,” he let out a dry chuckle.

“Spill.”

“I could kiss you,” he paused. “But then I know I’m going to want to do it over and over again. I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to be the reason why we don’t talk again for another fifteen years.”

“I think both of us are afraid of that,” you confessed. “But I’m also going into this prepared for that.”

“So what are you saying?” He asked.

“I’m saying we have tonight. Let’s just focus on that first,” you whispered. “We can go back to our lives after this.”

“Can I at least grab your number before you leave?” he asked you.

“I’ll think about it,” you played, getting up from the bed. “I have to say, it’s really good to see you again.”

He stepped forward, slipping his hand around the small of your back. You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his touch, craving more of it. This time, you allowed yourself to hold him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You stood on your tiptoes, carefully pressing your lips to his in a hesitant kiss. His grip tightened on you, drawing you in closer as he kissed you back.

Memories of the past came rushing back to you. Jensen was just a boy you were best friends with. The one you spent everyday with up until the day you left. You remember the day he kissed you for the first time like it was yesterday. Out in the park where you frequented. He sat at the end of the slide, waiting for you to come down one evening. It was just the two of you left. Everyone had gone home for dinner. He was so smooth and cute about it, which was one of the reasons why you fell so hard for him so quickly.

Every moment from then on led up to now. You wanted this to be another addition to those memories. Your king making his way back to the castle for a moment. You knew it wasn’t going to be permanent and you were almost sure you could handle that, if it meant you had tonight with him.

You parted your lips, deepening the kiss as your arms tightened around his shoulders. Every so often, his nose brushed against the side of yours. His tongue slipped across yours, and you could taste the beer he had with dinner earlier tonight. You want more of him. You wanted every part of him. His touch had heat pooling in your core. The smell of his cologne only entranced you more. You were headed down a path that you couldn’t turn back from. You weren’t sure you even wanted to.

“Jensen,” you breathed out, pulling away just slightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Too much?” he whispered.

“No,” you shook your head. For a moment, you paused, not sure if this was something he was okay with. You wanted his touch, and you craved it. You didn’t know if it was okay the other way around.

You released him from your hold. Your hands making their way to your jacket, quickly peeling it off. Jensen stood there, his eyes locked on your every move. In a moment of confidence, you tore your t-shirt over your head, dropping it to the floor. That confidence quickly fell away when you realized he had probably dated models, and seen so many beautiful women that were so much nicer to look at compared to you. God, what the -

“You’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly. Just like that, one damn word and you were melting into again. He shrugged off his flannel shirt, letting it fall to the floor. He took the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing his torso inch by inch. His stomach was soft, just like it was fifteen years ago, only now, he had grown into himself. He had a tiny trail of hairs leading down into his jeans, making you smile. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“Jensen,” you whispered, “you’re so handsome.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said with a nervous smile.

“I do,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, reaching for the button on your jeans. His hand came up to yours, halting your movements.

“Is this - are you sure?” he furrowed his brows.

“For old times sake,” you winked. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Fuck,” he smiled, looking down. “For old times sake.”

You continued to undo your pants while he worked on his own. This was definitely happening and you were more than okay with it. You felt that desire building inside you, and you needed to satisfy the itch. You needed him for so many reasons. He stood there in his black boxers. The outline of his cock making an appearance. He looked bigger now than he was back then.

You stood there in your bra and panties, unable to take your eyes off of him. You could feel yourself dripping in your panties. God, you wanted him. You wanted to feel his length inside you again. You wanted to hear him come undone to you touch.

“Do we need-”

“I’m on the pill,” you told him, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra, letting one of the last articles of clothing fall to the floor. Jensen’s eyes never left your body. You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of you. His hands reaching for your body for the first time. You melted into his touch, letting your nerves simmer down.

“So perfect,” he muttered under his breath. “I can’t keep my hands off you, and quite frankly, I don’t want to.” Your nipples hardened at the coolness of the air.

You turned in his hold, facing him. His eyes roamed over your body, his bottom lip coming between his teeth. He had such an effect on you and quite frankly you couldn’t get enough now that you had started.

You motioned for him to get on your bed and he did so quickly. You straddled his hips, your centre lining up with the bulge in his boxers. A tiny wave of pleasure coursed through you as you did. Your lips were on his in an instant, your tongue dancing with his. His hands held you tightly against him.

Your heart was soaring in your chest as you kissed him. Your hands traced over every inch of exposed skin like it was the first time. You loved the way he felt beneath you. You loved the way you felt in his hold. It was calming, and warm. Jensen made you feel safe and there was no one in the world you could say made you feel that way and you were slowly starting to realize that.

“Hmm Y/N,” he breathed out. You ground your hips against his, eliciting a groan from his lips. “I’ve gotta have you.”

“Have me,” you muttered.

“Yeah?”

“I like this,” he mumbled.

“You want me on top of you?” You played.

“I want you anyway,” he growled.

You climbed off of him, slipping your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. His eyes hooded with lust and desire as he glanced over you. His smile was soft, and sincere as he did.

You leaned down, dipping your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down his legs. His cock sprang free, hitting his stomach with a soft slap. You smirked, throwing one leg over his lap once more. You took his cock in your hand, lining him up with your entrance.

You pressed your forehead to his, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, eyes that you never thought you’d get to look into again. Now he was staring into yours, trying to learn you all over again.

You sank down on his length, slowly letting him fill you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. The first thrust was always the best. The feeling of being one; of being so damn close to one another. Jensen took a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You saw how much they had darkened once he opened them. Your lips collided with his as he bottomed out inside you.

His hands rested between your shoulder blades, pulling you in closer to him. You shifted, lifting your hips before sinking back down, creating a steady pace that worked for both of you. Jensen’s hands slipped down the length of your back, resting them on your ass to help you move on him.

“Fuck Y/N,” he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

“Jense,” you breathed out. You gripped his shoulders, bouncing a little faster on his dick. A thin layer of sweat began to bead along your skin.

Jensen held you to him, shifting quickly. Your back hit the mattress. Jensen thrusted into you at a quickened pace. His entire weight was on top of you, adding to the pleasure he brought to you. His cock was dragging perfectly against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. You could hear the tiny cries that escaped passed his lips as he drove into you. Your nails scrapped down his back, trying to pull him in even closer to you.

His lips attached to the spot beneath your ear as his thrusts slowed down to almost teasingly slow. You let out a moan as he sucked down softly. The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. He paid attention to you and what you liked. You carded your fingers through his hair, something you knew he liked.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled into your neck.

His thrusts picked up a little more. You could tell he was getting closer by the way he was breathing. His mouth was ajar, and his tongue just peaked passed his lips. He was fucking gorgeous before he came, and every other time really. But this was different. Not many people had seen this.

“Jensen, I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead,” he breathed out. “I’m right behind you.”

“Come for me, Jense,” you urged him on, trying to keep up with his thrusts.

Within a few thrusts, your walls were clenching around his cock, squeezing him as pleasure soared through you. Your body was shaking beneath him as you threw your head back against the mattress. Your fingers digging into his back once more. You couldn’t contain your moan, or any of the words that rolled off your tongue. He made you feel so damn good, and you didn’t want to hold back.

Jensen wasn’t too far behind you. His thrusts became sloppy, and inconsistent. He tried to get as close to you as he could. His balls slapping against your ass. He came with a muffled cry of your name, spilling himself deep inside you. He slowed down, letting his orgasm run its course.

He lay on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, waiting for his breathing to even out. The second time was even better than the first and you were thankful it was. It was a nice moment between the two of you. Finally feeling him again like you had craved for years after you left.

“Guess now I can cross have sex with an actor off my bucket list,” you breathed out with a chuckle.

“Shut up,” he shook his head, grinning into your neck before shifting off of you. He withdrew himself from you, and you instantly felt the loss of him. He hopped off the bed, heading into the bathroom. Your eyes wandered down to his perky ass, watching as he walked away.

He came back seconds later with a warm washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up, just like he did the first time you did this together. You smiled at him. He was still that sweet boy you had known all those years ago.

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, waiting for him to come back and join you. It was just after ten and you didn’t exactly want to leave at this time and make your way home by yourself. You didn’t know if you should stay the night.

“At least this time I actually get to cuddle with you,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to sneak out the window to head home.”

“Yeah, that was awesome,” you scoffed. “I wasn’t exactly expecting your brother to come home.”

“Neither was I,” he shook his head. “C’mere.”

You inched over to him, throwing your arm around his waist before intertwining your leg with his. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder before placing a kiss to the top of your head. You could feel yourself slowly unwinding from the day. You were up early to start your orders and didn’t stop until Jensen walked in just after you closed. You were exhausted.

“You smell good,” he muttered, kissing your head once more.

“So do you,” you yawned. “You also stink of sex.”

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Your eyes fluttered open to a dark room. The clock in the corner read four thirty six. You were in a hotel room. Shit, you were in Jensen’s hotel room. You glanced to the other side of the bed, finding Jensen laying there on his back. He was fast asleep.

Guilt rushed through you. What were you doing here? Why were you still here with him? You knew you shouldn’t be. He was Jensen Ackles, an actor. He wasn’t your best friend anymore. He wasn’t that same small town boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago. He was a busy, hardworking man now. You were from two completely different worlds. He loved the idea of you and what your past was.

You carefully slipped out of the bed, trying not to make any big movements that would wake him. You bent down, picking up each article of clothing, putting it back on. You were doing him a favour. You couldn’t be that girl he used to know. You couldn’t give up your dreams for a past dream.

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked back at him. He was forever going to be the man you had fallen in love with. The one who treated you like a queen. You couldn’t be that for him now. He deserved better than that. He was simply confused and he saw you and thought of an easy way to get what he wanted.

You tiptoed over to him, leaning over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before turning to head out. You never expected it to hurt so bad, but it did. Jensen was your happy thought in a world full of misery for two whole years. He was the one thing that got through to you when you felt like giving up.

You slipped out of the hotel room, quietly shutting the door behind you. As soon as you got to the elevators, the tears slipped down your cheeks. It hurt. God, did it hurt. But you were leaving on good terms. You were leaving after a night of reminiscing and soft touches. A night filled with the same passion you had all those years ago. You wanted it to go that way. You wanted him to remember that about you.

You took a taxi back to the shop, trying to keep your tears at bay at that time. You must have looked like a crazy person to the older man. Eyes red and puffy heading to a bakery at nearly five in the morning.

It was just starting to drizzle when you stepped out of the cab after paying for your fare. You had your keys ready in your hand, opening up the door to your shop. Your biggest accomplishment. Everything you had in the small little shop was created by you. You built this. You worked your ass off for this and the way you felt at this very moment - it was like it meant nothing.

You walked into the back of the building, heading up the stairs to get to your apartment located right above the shop. The only way you could keep the costs low. You opened up your apartment door, stepping inside. The second the door shut, the tears kept coming. You were doing the right thing, you reminded yourself. You were doing what was for the best.

Monday morning came quickly. For the first time, you didn’t want to get out of bed and start the day. You didn’t want to go to work and you didn’t want to bake something. You just wanted to take a break. You wanted to go back to three days ago when Jensen wasn’t a thought on your mind. When he was just a public figure on the internet.

You threw on a blue t-shirt and a comfortable pair of black pants. You weren’t bothering with makeup today. You were going to bake and that was it. No customers today. Your sole focus was making cupcakes for a birthday party and a few pies for orders. You could finish by one and go back up to your bed.

“Morning, Y/N,” Victoria smiled at you, handing you your morning coffee.

“Morning,” you smiled at her, reaching for your drink.

“Rough weekend?” she smiled knowingly.

“You have no idea,” you chuckled dryly. “I know I look like ass. If you and Melanie could keep a handle on everything out front. I don’t exactly want to scare customers away with my grudge look today.”

“You look as beautiful as always. You’re just too hard on yourself,” she smiled. “We can take care of things no problem.”

“Thank you,” you gave her a warm smile.

You pulled some of the already prepared cookie dough from the fridge, placing them on three trays to begin filling things up out front. You had your cupcake batter on the go and your buttercream already mixing in the kitchen aid. The smell was starting to fill the kitchen, making you feel more at ease. This is what you were good at. This is what you loved to do.

You poured the chocolate batter into the cupcake holders, adding in a little extra to have bigger cupcakes. It was for a girls birthday party. The buttercream was sitting in the mixer. A nice neon pink colour that was going to go well with the dark chocolate cupcake.

“Hey Y/N,” Melanie poked her head back. “Someone is here asking about the open position.”

“Oh really?” your ears perked up. “Uh well, send them back here and we’ll take it from there.”

“Okay,” she beamed, turning away.

You grabbed your measuring cylinder, placing your piping bag into it so you could get your buttercream ready for when the cupcakes were done. The timer for the cookies went off at the same time. In the corner of your eye, you caught a figure, which had to be the one inquiring about the position.

“I’ll be right with you. I just have a lot on the go,” you told them, grabbing your oven mitts to take the three trays out of the oven. You had a cooling rack next to your oven, perfect for placing lots of products when they were done. “You’re interested in a baking position?”

“Yeah,” the deep voice said. You almost stopped what you were doing. You were definitely expecting a female voice. “I’m only available Saturdays, and the odd Fridays. Depending on when I get off my other job and when I can fly in.”

You turned around, taking a deep breath. Jensen was standing there with his hands in his pockets. He was clearly nervous. He looked about as good as you did, if you were being honest. His eyes were tired.

“Y-you’re not actually interested in the position are you?” you swallowed hard.

“I am,” he nodded. “I can’t bake to save my life but I'm interested.”

“Jensen-”

“Why’d you leave?” he asked you. “I woke up and you were just gone. No sign you had even been there.”

“I can’t, Jensen,” you sighed in defeat, moving over to one of the stools by your counter.

“Why not?” he questioned, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I told you I still have feelings for you-”

“That’s not enough and you know it,” you licked your bottom lip, your eyes casting down. “Feelings don’t make a relationship work, especially not one between two people that barely know each other anymore. I get that your best friend getting married striked something in you and seeing me didn’t help. But I can’t be that girl for you, Jensen. I can’t drop everything I’ve worked for and that’s why it would never work. You’re an actor who works in a different country. I work six days a week here. Timezones, distance, insecurities, doubts, guilt, and god knows what else will come between us. It doesn’t matter if I still love you or not.”

“Do you?” he asked lowly. “Still love me?”

“Of course I do. I never stopped, ” you admitted. “But it’s not enough.”

“I’m not asking you to give this up for me,” he said to you, taking a step closer to you. “I’m asking you to give me a chance.”

“This isn’t because of everything is it?” you dared to ask.

“This is because I love you and I never stopped,” he stated. “I’ll fly down every weekend I don’t work to take a Saturday shift and spend Sundays with you.”

“N-no,” you shook your head.

“Y/N, are those cookies done by chance?” Melanie asked sheepishly. “Sorry, I know you’re in the midst-”

“Yeah, you can take one. They are hot though,” you told her. She snuck passed you with the empty tray in her hand. She moved quickly, placing eight of them in their places before sneaking back out. The tension was growing in the room.

“Why not, Y/N?” he sighed in defeat.

“I can’t be the girl you want me to be, Jensen. I can’t walk red carpets with you and be in the public eye like you are. I can’t be the girl I once was,” you sniffled.

“And I’m not asking you to be,” he declared. “All I want is you. You and whatever comes with you. Whatever shit you’ve been through, whatever it is. I’ll take it as my own. I just know that I love you and I haven’t felt my heart beat the way it has with you in a really long fucking time.”

“You could have anyone -”

“All I want is you,” he repeated. “Long days, phone calls, weekend flights. I’ll do it if it means I can be with you.”

“I work six days a week,” you reminded him.

“I’ll work Saturday’s,” he stated. “You’ve already seen me work.”

“I live in a one bedroom shoe box apartment above this store,” you shared.

“Is that your attempt to get me to change my mind,” he chuckled, taking the stool in front of you. He placed his hands on your legs, looking at you. “Nothing you can say will change my mind. I looked for you for ten years, Y/N. Now that I found you again, I’m not losing you.”

“I don’t have money to fly to you,” you argued.

“Don’t care. I’ve got frequent flyer points,” he smiled. “Anything else?”

“I think I’m done now,” you admitted with a half smile. “For now.”

“So do I have the job?” he cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re on probation though.”

“Is it because I can’t bake?” he let out a laugh.

“Yes. One hundred percent.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “But do me a favour?”

“Anything,” you looked up at him.

“Don’t ever leave me in the middle of the night like that again,” he breathed out, leaning over. He pressed his lips to your cheek.

“Promise,” you agreed. “I gotta work now, darlin’.”

“Put me to work, sweetheart. I can fit in a couple of hours before my flight,” he winked. “I’ll be back Friday night for three days.”

“Good,” you beamed, holding your hand out for him to take. You helped him off the stool and led him over to the counter. You handed him an apron so he wouldn’t get his shirt dirty.

“Hey Y/N,” Victoria smiled as she walked back into your work area. “Did we hire this one?”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a wide grin. “For now.”

“Good,” she smiled. “It’s about time you let someone in. Glad it’s heart eyes.”

“Heart eyes?” Jensen furrowed his brows.

“You gave me heart eyes when you saw me Saturday afternoon,” you teased him.

“Crazy heart eyes,” she pointed out. “Break her heart and I’ll break your face.”

“Victoria,” you said, wide eyed.

“I don’t care who he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “I can take on Dean Winchester.”

“There’s an idea,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to your table.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Jensen smirked.

“Nothing, darlin’.”

“Yeah okay,” he chuckled, leaning over to you, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You smiled against him, finally allowing yourself to truly enjoy it for the first time. You really were childhood sweethearts. You only hoped that you became a couple that was destined to grow old together. Either way, you were glad you were entering this journey with Jensen by your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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