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#some blueberry pie life
soft-pine · 4 months
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i think something's wrong with me. i think something's glued down wrong, permanently. maybe it's the things i never learned how to do. maybe it's the things i learned to do real well
some blueberry pie life: chapter 22
two men with devastatingly low self esteem walk into a bar
title from Answering the Phone by The Mountain Goats
notes below!
May, 2013
The "i love you" prayer Dean is thinking about is from the previous chapter, set during 8.17
Cas' running from the angels and then showing up asking for help is from 8.21
Dean talking about when Henry came forward in time is from 8.12
February, 2013
Dean thinking about when Sam said Dean was better off hunting alone is from 8.03
May, 1994
John getting Sam a computer is from John's Journal by Alex Irvine
Please believe me: computers used to be so heavy!!
May, 2013
Dean referencing hitting Ben Braeden is from 6.21
Dean talking about Emma is from 7.13
Dean talking about Benny is from 8.19
May, 1987
Soldiers adapt line is from John's Journal
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syrupyyyart · 1 year
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motley outfit redesigns!
#motley#cherry pit#blueberry cobbler#lime pie#marshmallow fluff#banana pudding#watermelon sorbet#my art#ocs#original characters#some notes:#so yes. now they ALL have multiple colors#the idea is that the characters can earn new colors as they grow up/experience important life experiences#and at the beginning of the story. every character has only earned one new color since theyre all only around 15 to 17 years old#except for watermelon. who has already earned two of her colors (and she feels pretty cool about it)#cherry went through like 7 different outfits and colors before i landed back basically right where i started#i almost switched her and watermelons base colors too. but i thought the pink was cuter so i kept her the same#banana has yet another new dress/outfit. but i finally think i like this outfit for her#so heres to hoping i dont feel the need to change it again#watermlon got a complete design overhaul from head to toe#the reason is because her previous design was really difficult to draw on model consistently#so i streamlined it and now she is much much much easier to draw#aka by the end of the story ideally they would all have 3 main colors#which would be the color they were born with + two outfit colors. and then a bonus accent color to tie it all together#im sure thats all ineligible but im just not great at explaining in the notes. this is really difficult when i cant use commas lol#anyways thanks for coming to my tedtalk about this incredibley niche topic lmfao#dont judge these drawings btw lol they are obviously incredibly rough#ive still gotta redesign the main 3 girls parents + the mean girls. man lol
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smoreboi · 2 years
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love my professors talking about career aspirations and majors like they're the same thing. like,, yes, I'm going to college and in that, the final goal is to be fully capable of (for me) astrophysics research, which you need degrees for, but I also have so many more aspirations on any given day, this is just the one that completely requires a college degree.
I also want to be a writer, and a chef, and a variety streamer, and have enough money to have a chain of "stores" without an active business license so I just give stuff out for free with no limits or questions just the essentials of life on hand for anyone who wants them, and I want to keep a community garden, and I want to keep cows and sheep and chickens and goats all for non-meat products, and etc. etc.! I have so many career aspirations, space is just the one thing I needed a degree for
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boilingrain · 10 months
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I have been overcome with the urge to kill off 3 of the 4 named relatives I've given Applestripe.
Which does add a heartbreaking side note that the 4th relative, who is alive but left a long time ago, doesn't know that the others are dead
Sorry Applestripe
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lisired · 1 month
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where angels fear to tread
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pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader
genre/warnings: fwb to lovers, fluff, implied smut, angst
summary: Three years ago, you had a summer fling with Jung Jaehyun, and what was simply sex turned into more after you caught feelings for him. Then, you find out he has a girlfriend, and decide to call it quits. Three years later, he's back in town, trying to come back in your life, and most importantly trying to come back into your heart, but you're a little hesitant to let him.
word count: 14.5k
a/n: i think this was my first jaehyun fic? LOL… as always, feedback is appreciated!
“Not fair.”
“It’s very much fair, Jaemin.”
“How come the blueberry head gives you shit on the house? I asked him for a free coffee and he told me the only way I was getting coffee for free was if he splashed it on my face. Very unprofessional. I demand the manager.”
You want to tell him that the manager would just suck up to Taeyong in private because the customer is always wrong, but something in you tells you to be quiet.
“Saved his life,” you shrug, digging a fork into your pie.
“Saved his life?” Jaemin repeats, wide-eyed, “you just said that like it was the most normal thing ever.”
“I don’t think he would have actually died,” you mutter, but decide to tell the tale anyway, “You remember when I told you I was taking a two-week vacation out of town because Yeri invited me and some of her friends to her stepdad’s beach house?” Jaemin nods, “Well Taeyong was one of those friends. Saved him from drowning in the pool, and ever since he thinks he owes me his life, so he gives me a lifetime worth of stuff on the house.”
You consider Jaemin your best friend, although him not physically being with you for the past two years was the reason why he’s unaware of some minor details of your life during those years. Of course, he knew about the vacation—you had so much fun that you told him nearly every damn detail of it—but there was still some things you kept to yourself. Such as how you saved Taeyong from drowning. You thought that you’d look like a praise-seeker for bringing that up anyway.
You scan the room for Taeyong (the blueberry head) and once your eyes find him, you wave and wink. He waves back and smiles bashfully, before tending to one of his customers. You also think that Taeyong might have a little crush on you, but that’s not relevant at the moment.
“Oh wow. I guess not all heroes wear capes. Some heroes wear pie crumbs on their mouths.”
You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin then squeeze it into a ball to throw at Jaemin, making him gasp dramatically and start rambling about how you shouldn’t treat the best friend you haven’t seen in two years like this, but the chime of the cafe door distracts you. Your face falls in horror, and you’re still as a statue as it all races back. The pain, the memories, the emotions, everything you gave him that you can’t take back.
“I have to go,” you say, but Jaemin grabs your wrist.
His voice is filled to the brim with concern, “What’s wrong?”
Where you do even start? You sigh, ducking your head on the table in an attempt to cover your face the best that you can. The past is intertwining with the present and you do not enjoy it one bit. Fortunately, he sits away from you and doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence in the room, but it’s just your luck that for the first time you’re seeing him in almost two years, he chooses to show up right here, right now.
“See that guy that just walked in?”
Jaemin nods with reluctance, subtly scanning said guy with his eyes, “Yeah, what about him?”
With a deep breath, you brace yourself for uncovering a part of your past that you’d rather keep ancient history, “Remember that fling I told you about from the vacation? That was him. And I never told you this, but we didn’t exactly end on the best of terms. I called it quits when I found out that he had a girlfriend.”
Another one of the vay-cay details that you kept to yourself. Technically, you did tell him about the fling, but it was nothing too specific aside from the fact that you were getting dicked down. You never told him about the way things abruptly ended, and you sure as hell never told him that you caught feelings for a cheater.
Jaemin’s face falls, and you’re not sure why. You think that he’s offended because you never told him about something so huge (and he is, but the two of you have bigger fish to fry at the moment so he decides it best to complain later).
Eyebrows furrowed, you ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Jaehyun is…” he pauses, and your lips part to ask how he knows his name until, “Jaehyun is my roommate.”
If you had the energy, you would sigh. Of course, Jaehyun also happens to move back in town and ultimately transfer back into your college for the second semester. You had to be a criminal in your past life, what else could you have possibly done to deserve something like this?
Taeyong walks over to your table, wearing a discontent frown, “Jaehyun’s here, do you want me to distract him so that you can leave without him noticing?”
“No way the blueberry head knew about this before me.” Ah, there it goes.
Taeyong glares, but he doesn’t say anything, instead locking his eyes on you to catch your response and his face softens when he does.
“Please,” you sigh in relief, “Thanks Tae, you’re a lifesaver.”
Taeyong smiles at the weight of your words, “It’s the least I could do. Now you two get out of here.”
It isn’t something that you need to be told twice, Taeyong goes to distract Jaehyun and you two bolt the fuck out of there. Though even out of sight, Jaehyun isn’t out of mind. In the beginning you knew it was nothing serious, Jaehyun had other girls that he fucked. But the fact that he was cheating on some poor, innocent girl was more then you could handle, and it would be selfish of you to risk getting caught up in that mess.
For a while, you and Jaemin ride in near silence. It’s your car, but he claims you aren’t in the right headspace to drive and you didn’t argue. You don’t feel the best at the moment.
“Is this a bad time to invite you to my roommate’s Summer Break Kick-off party this Friday,” Jaemin asks over the radio, his voice cutting through the SHINee song playing lowly.
“Kinda,” you snort. “Is he coming?”
“Probably, yeah. I mean, he was invited. But my roommate’s other house is pretty big it’s been forever since we last partied.”
You blink. Why does your roommate…
“Don’t question it. I don’t know either.”
You fight the urge to laugh. Instead, you weigh out the pros and cons. Technically, you and Jaemin could always find another place to party if you wanted to so bad, and even if the house was big, there’s still a fair chance of you running into the one man you dread ever seeing again. You aren’t too sure if that’s something that you’re ready to risk right now.
You sigh again, pressing your face against the car window. “I’ll think about it.”
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You haven’t stepped foot in a place this expensive-looking since Yeri invited you on that little summer vacation to her stepdad’s beach house (two years ago.)
Jaemin somehow managed to convince you to show up by pinky promising to do a week’s worth of your assignments next semester, and you’d be a fool for turning that offer down. It isn’t clear from the outside, but academically Jaemin is sharp. So now, you’re searching for Jaemin in a sea full of red plastic cups. He was right, the house is humongous, and now you’re really beginning to question why someone with this kind of fortune at their fingertips lives with three presumably broke college students.
At least they’re playing SHINee. That way you can sing along to your favorite boy band while you simultaneously search for your best friend.
It might be harder for him to spot you. You chose to wear something dull, deciding against standing out too much just in case Jaehyun wanted confrontation, so looking for you is like searching for a needle in a haystack. You two could have just spent the night karaoking with Jaemin in your living room just like the good ‘ole days, for heavens sake.
Na Jaemin, when I find you, you groan. He doesn’t answer your calls or texts, and just for this you should make him do your homework for two weeks. Three if you bump into Jaehyun. You stop at an empty spot to catch your breath.
“God, what are these guys’ parents? The CEO’s of Samsung?” you mutter, to yourself.
“Aw, so close.”
Not expecting an actual answer, you jump and turn in the direction of the voice. You find a tall, handsome man smiling at you. His teeth are so white that it looks like he eats Colgate for breakfast.
“Kai, I’m the host of the party,” he grins, yet then his expression falters, “do I know you from somewhere?”
“I was thinking the same thing!” You laugh, analyzing his face. He does look a bit familiar.
You tell him your name, and the way he repeats it once more then blinks a few times concerns you a little. It’s not that you have a bad reputation, but did he know you from something bad?
His eyes widen. “You’re Johnny’s ex-girlfriend.”
That, you are. Back in high school you and Johnny dated for some time, broke up after a while since you drifted apart from one another, but agreed to stay friends so you’re both cool. You’re relieved that’s all, but you still don’t remember where you know Kai from, and you’re almost one-hundred percent sure it isn’t high school. You don’t even think you went two to the same high school.
“That’s me,” you confirm with a nod, “I still don’t know where I remember you from, though.”
If this were a cartoon, Kai would have a thought bubble above his head, and moments later it would transform into a lightbulb, “Are you friend’s with Yeri?” he guesses, and you nod, “she’s my step-sister. She probably told you about me.”
Oh. Well now the dots are connecting. Yeri did in fact tell you about him, mentioning that his family is the one her mom married into when explaining how filthily rich she became—because her brand new step-dad is indeed a CEO.
You make an O with your mouth, “Small world.”
“I know, right?” Kai, or as you know him from Yeri (also why you didn’t recognize him immediately), Jongin, laughs, “Care to dance?”
At that, you frown, “I’d love to, but I should really find Jaemin. He’s my best friend and we’re supposed to be spending time together because he just moved back in town recently.”
Kai looks a little sad by the rejection but handles it well, nodding in understanding, “Good luck. Last time I saw him he was over there,” he points, “losing a drinking game.”
That could mean nothing good. That meant wherever he was, Jaemin was more than likely going to be shitfaced by the end of the night. You sigh internally, almost wishing he’d go back to being the shy and introverted boy you knew in high school.
You met Jaemin in your sophomore year, at a party his friends forced him to go to, and you had a couple of mutual friends, but until then you two were nothing more than strangers. Speaking of which, that’s how you bonded, even though it was a fight getting him to say more than five words at a time. You were sure your friends Sicheng and Yuta had a thing for each other, whereas he hadn’t suspected a thing. So you made a bet, and only a couple minutes later, they were found making out against a wall. He owed you 50 bucks.
When Jaemin is still no where to be find, you’re ready to cave in to defeat. You feel like you’re in a maze, walking around in circles and it shows in the ache in your feet. You’re about to give up and turn around, until you walk into something, or someone, and all audible to you is the sound of splashing before someone yells shit, I’m sorry!
Oh, you’ll make sure they’re sorry. You’re not sure what you should focus on. How your top is now soaked, or how familiar their voice is. Until you look back up and see a walking, breathing and unfortunately talking, nightmare.
He calls out your name.
Like before, you turn and walk away.
He says it again, louder, and follows you.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Jaehyun.”
Still, he tails behind you like a lost puppy, despite you obviously trying to stay far, far away, “Can’t you hear me out? It’s been two years.”
“Two very peaceful years,” you stop dead in your tracks and finally turn to face him. It hurts you to look at his face, because the memories wash over you like waves, yet you do it anyways. You want to show him that you’re strong without him, not weakness and vulnerability, “and I told you two years ago that I want nothing to do with you.”
Jaehyun’s no good for you, you know that. You know that all he’s ever wanted to do is get inside your pants, that he’s never cared for you. So why are you tempted to hear him out?
No, you refuse, you will not let nostalgia win you over. That’s all it is. You miss what you had, but you don’t know if you miss him as a person.
“At least let me help you dry your shirt, it’s my fault that it’s ruined,” he tries again, but you’re hell-bent on making him feel as miserable as he did you.
“No.”
“Y/n—”
“No means no, Jaehyun,” another voice cuts in, and while it isn’t the one you’ve been looking for, you’re thankful nonetheless. Beside you stands Kai, tall, angry, and intimidating, “you gonna make her tell you to fuck off?”
Jaehyun glances at you, and you see the emotion in his eyes, but you don’t fall for them. Not anymore. He’s already caused your heart to feel enough pain that you can’t bother to try and carry the burden that is his own. So he gives up and walks off, finally leaving you alone.
And you let out an exhausted breath.
“Show’s over, mind your business,” Kai tells the audience you hadn’t even known formed, and not willing to risk going against him, everyone returns to their previous activity. He looks at you, and all the anger is washed with concern. “You okay?”
Are you okay? You don’t know anymore. Nostalgia is kicking your ass, and though you try not to think about him, you can’t help but reminisce.
“Yeah,” you say, but you’re not too sure. “Thanks. A lot.”
Kai shrugs, “No biggie. Do you think you and Yeri match sizes? You can use the bathroom in my bedroom to change because no one’s dumb enough to go in there.”
You sigh in relief. Chivalry isn’t dead. “Yes. Thank you.”
Kai leads you upstairs to Yeri’s room, or at least the one she stays in when she’s here, and let’s you choose a shirt. It isn’t an easy decision with Yeri being the epitome of fashion, but you pick quickly to spare Kai’s time, even though he tells you that he doesn’t mind. He then takes you to the bathroom in his room because according to him, Yeri’s one is under repair.
Even though Kai is guarding the door with his life and you know he wouldn’t just barge in there without your say-so, you lock the door. You meet your gaze in the mirror, eyeing yourself closely. Everyone is insecure sometimes, but after things ended between you and Jaehyun, you were extremely self-conscious for months.
To anyone who had never been in your shoes, it might’ve made more sense than anything for you to feel better about yourself knowing that even though Jaehyun had a girl, he kept coming back to you. Yet who’s to say you were the only one? To this day, you’re still convinced that the only reason he keeps trying to win you back is because him losing you plus you being the one to end it put a major dent in his ego.
You hate that he had that kind of power over you, to the point where he made you hate yourself. You hate that a man like him made you cry so many goddamn tears and now he expects you to dry his own.
Reminding yourself that Kai is waiting, you tear your gaze from your own before tears have the chance to spill, and wipe yourself dry so that you can put on your - or Yeri’s - shirt. Now that you think about it, it’s too cute to return. You might take it. She’s too rich to notice, and even if she does, she’s still rich. She can easily replace it.
Kai greets you with a smile as you step back inside his room, and you find yourself smiling back at him. He’s been treating you so kindly this whole time, and now that you think about it, you’ve never heard a single bad thing about the man. Yeri clearly doesn’t mention him very often, but it’s never been anything bad when she does, and even when Jaemin was telling you about his roommates, he described Kai as “the funny one that called his mom a lot.”
“Ready to join the party?”
And then you frown. “I don’t know.”
Kai quirks a brow, “Well don’t tell me you look this good just to not show yourself off.”
Amused, you scoff. Kai’s been smooth from the beginning, yet now he’s unabashedly flirting with you. “Are you flirting with me, Kim Jongin?”
Confusion spells itself out on his face. You have never once said his name tonight, and the one time you do, it’s his government. “How do you know my name?”
“Yeri,” you shrug, “but if you want me to just call you Kai then I understand.”
“Well, usually I reserve my real name for my close friends and family,” he grins, and God he looks devilishly handsome when he does, “but it sounds so nice on your tongue that I’ll make an exception.”
It’s painfully obvious that you don’t know how to react, eyes a little round and your lips parting, yet nothing coming from in between. It makes Jongin laugh.
“And yes, I was flirting with you,” he winks, “but anyways, if you really don’t wanna go back out there, which is totally fine, we can just chill in here. You seem like a nice person, and I’d like to get to know you.”
“Get to know me?” You quip, finding enough balance to play into his game after being knocked down by his charm briefly, “or my body?”
He arches a brow in amusement. “That feels like a trick question.”
You shrug. “Be honest. I might feel the same way.”
Maybe it’s a good thing that tonight didn’t go as planned. Kai’s had you since the moment he introduced himself, and it seems every five minutes he gets better.
“Well, I don’t see why I can’t multitask,” He purrs, taking your words as an invitation. An invitation that he was accepting.
You giggle. He eyes you gently, noticing the way you slowly inch closer to him, “I like you.”
It’s an initiation, turning the keys and putting the car in drive, and you want to see if Jongin will take the wheel. And it seems that to your fortune, he does.
“Guess it’s a good thing I like you, too.” Jongin chuckles, and he’s so close. You can feel his breath on your skin, tickling your neck, and it makes something in you crawl with arousal.
And the gap between you closes.
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You already liked Kai last night, but you definitely like him this morning.
You woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and not just any kind of pancakes, but chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite. If anything can make you like someone, it’s chocolate chip pancakes.
“How’d you know chocolate chip was my fave?” you giggle, not expecting a serious response, but after the whole scenario with him yesterday, you should have already known he would have one.
“Yerim’s told me about you, too, you know,” Jongin replies, “It wasn’t even too long ago, it was winter break. We were all staying at my dad’s house for a couple of days, and she invited you over one morning. Everyone was gone but me and her when I went downstairs, and I saw her making chocolate chip pancakes. It blew me, because she’s an avid hater of chocolate. Then she told me they were for her best friend, because you love them, and after last night I learned that the best friend in question happened to be you.”
You and Jongin learned a lot about one another last evening. After you had sex, you didn’t expect to hit it off like you did, yet you spent a great deal of the night talking on his silk sheets. For starters, he’s a wonderful man. Funny, polite, respectful, thoughtful, caring, and he has an amazing personality. The sole flaw you could find in him was that he likes Hawaiian pizza. What kind of sick person enjoys Hawaiian pizza?
And you fell asleep in his arms. It was perfect, almost too good to be true. You considered the possibility of a relationship with him, you enjoyed his company and he was shameless to admit that he enjoyed yours. And yet still, you couldn’t help but think of Jaehyun.
The way he had also made you feel the same way, all those years ago. How he never fucked you and then shoved you away, but he talked to you until the sun came up, or spooned you to sleep. It was ridiculous, and you can’t believe that one encounter with Jaehyun had you acting like a teenager in love for the first time again. Not to mention the encounter in question was horrible. Jaehyun isn’t good for you, but for some reason your heart seems to still want him.
“If you want know so bad, just ask.”
“What?” Kai blinks, unaware that you’ve noticed the way he looks at you, not just now but ever since that encounter with Jaehyun. The longing in his eyes to say something, yet he resisted.
“I know you’re curious about me and Jaehyun,” truth be told, it isn’t just for him, but for you. Maybe if you remind yourself of what Jaehyun’s done to you, hear it aloud, you’ll snap out of it and shake this weird feeling. “So go ahead. Ask.”
Jongin’s surprised at how well you read him, and you can only hope that he doesn’t read you just as well.
“I figured you didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.” How utterly Kai of him. And honestly, he’s right. You don’t want to, but at this point it’s a need.
“It’s okay,” you assure.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s okay, you know. I understa—”
“Kim Jongin,” you say, and he pauses, a part of being because he still hasn’t gotten used to you calling him by his government name, yet he loves it when you do, “I am not about to beg you to ask me. I promise you, it’s alright.”
Jongin hesitates, but gives in reluctantly, “Okay, so… what happened for Jaehyun to be so intent on talking to you last night? Break-up?”
“Not really,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and flat. You weren’t the girl Jaehyun was in a relationship with, “It wasn’t a romantic relationship. Just sex, no strings attached.”
Jongin nods, “Ah, so a fling?”
“Mm-hm. I met him when Yeri invited her best friends to your dad’s beach house for a fun summer vacation during break. We hit it off well and it wasn’t much longer that he had me in his sheets. It really was fun, so we agreed to keep fucking around. And then some months later, I found out he had a girlfriend the whole time.”
He makes an understanding face, familiar with Yeri’s Pal-Cations (as she likes to call them.)
“Yerim didn’t tell you he was dating someone?”
“No one knew about us. He wanted to keep things secret,” you chuckle softly, “and that’s when I found out why.”
Silence falls over Jongin, and you sit there and let him ponder. Being able to say it all like this makes it seem so simple, and perhaps it should be. Jaehyun fucked up, and you owe him nothing. If he broke up with his girlfriend, maybe things would have been different, but he didn’t and that’s why he should leave you alone.
“Do you think he’s changed?” You shouldn’t ask. It doesn’t matter what Kai thinks, he doesn’t know Jaehyun like you do and he hasn’t known him for nearly as long. His opinion doesn’t matter.
Kai blinks. “I mean, you know what they say. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“But I’m asking for your opinion.”
You’ve never seen Kai so speechless. He’s always had something on the tip of his tongue, always. That’s when you consider that you’re probably dumping a shit ton of unwarranted info on him, especially since you had to practically coerce him into even asking you about Jaehyun. Before you have the chance to apologize, he answers.
“I don’t know him nearly as well as you probably do, but from what I’ve seen in the past 2 weeks, he’s nothing like some stupid, immature fuck boy. He carries himself well, cracks his jokes but he’s respectful and doesn’t push his limits, and I’ve never seen him with a girl,” Jongin says. “Come to think of it, he’s single. The boys discussed our dating situations and relationship statuses just so that we wouldn’t be surprised if we got up in the middle of the night and saw some stranger. Said he was single and wasn’t looking for sex.”
And you sigh in defeat, because the only thing that’s changed about Jaehyun according to that description is that he’s apparently single now and isn’t looking for sex.
Or maybe he was some stupid, immature fuckboy. You don’t know. And ever since you found out about her, you haven’t been sure if you’ve ever known him like you thought you did. You haven’t been sure about anything.
“Do you want him back?”
The questions catchs you off-guard. It isn’t exactly new, but you’ve never had anyone ask you this other than yourself. It’s all that you can think about. Do you really want him back? Or do you just miss what you had? What if it’s both?
“I don’t know,” you answer. And trust, you’ve been thinking about it since that whole ordeal at the café Monday. Even if you do, you shouldn’t. You don’t know Jaehyun’s motive, and there are plenty of other guys that can provide you everything he was giving you. One is literally looking you dead in the eye. He’s replaceable, you tell yourself. You don’t need him.
But that sure as hell has nothing to do with you wanting him.
“You don’t know?” Kai lifts his brow, “Or are you simply in denial?”
You feel like he’s your therapist, and the thought almost makes you laugh. Everything reminds you of Jaehyun. How sometimes, you’d play therapist for each other after you had sex, either directly afterwards or in the morning like now. It was so much more than sex, you think. To you, anyways. And that’s likely how you caught feelings.
Oh, dear god.
Even after two years, maybe those feelings you had for him still linger.
“I realized something,” you really don’t have to say anything, it’s written all over your face.
Jongin makes the conclusion, “You want him.”
Slowly, you nod. You think that you shouldn’t, but you do, and Jongin was right about you being in denial. You guess he really does read you just as well as you do him.
“I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because it’s your choice to make at the end of the day, but let’s take everything into account,” Jongin starts, voice sterner than it’s been all morning, “I’m not saying age is an excuse, but he was eighteen. All eighteen-year-old boys are stupid. Take it from someone who’s been there. But he’s twenty-one now, and it’s been years. That’s plenty enough time for him to grow and change.”
You nod along. That’s true, and while you could never be too careful because who’s to say he’s changed, who’s to say he hasn’t?
Kai adds, “If you want to take the risk, take it. If you don’t, then don’t. He made an inexcusable mistake. But he’s human, and all humans make mistakes. You dont owe him anything, especially not forgiveness, but be a little open-minded.”
The decision is yours. You can hear Jaehyun out and try to salvage your relationship, or you can continue to shut him out. You don’t owe him a second chance, but god, you must admit that you’ve always secretly longed to give him one, just so that you could go back to what you had.
Whenever you contemplate giving him a second chance, you think about her. You try to put yourself in her shoes, wondering how she must’ve felt, if she ever knew that the man she loved was fucking around with another woman. Maybe that’s how they broke up. Days ago, the thought would have made you run further and further away from him. But now, it’s almost like you’re rooted in place, bumping into dead-ends.
If you were her, you’d be unforgiving. But you’re not her, you never will be her, and that makes you want to be a little more selfish.
That makes you want him.
“Thanks, Kai,” you say, truly grateful to have his unbiased opinion. Usually you wouldn’t trust people you met less than twenty-four hours ago with your personal business, but all the shit you and Kai exchanged last night makes you willing to permit an exception. And then, you feel bad because even after the kind things he’s done for you since last night, he’s still sitting here advising you on your complicated you-problems. “And I’m so sorry for dumping all my problems on you, you’ve been so sweet and the least I could do—”
“Hey, no worries. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Kai interjects, “and if you want me to do a bit of snooping around…”
You shake your head. “No way. You’ve already done enough for me, and I don’t want you to get caught up in my drama. I can handle it.”
“Sure, you can. But I don’t want a girl like you to wind up heartbroken, especially over a possible jackass, and at very least you should see if you can trust him before you, well, trust him,” As though he can sense you about to object, he adds, “No buts. I’m going to keep a few tabs on him and alert you if there’s anything suspicious.”
You sigh, and don’t argue because it’s obvious he isn’t changing his mind. You’re grateful.
You smile. “Thank you.”
“Of course. And if he breaks your heart, I’m here.”
You scoff, “Flirting with me again, Kim Jongin?”
“Oh, baby,” he growls, “Keep saying my name like that and I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”
Ten minutes ago, that would have been tempting. But now you know what you want, and you’re determined to have it.
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Yeri thinks it’s a bad idea.
Taeyong thinks it’s terrible idea.
Jaemin thinks you’ve had better ideas, but he’s willing to cooperate nonetheless.
“I don’t get it,” Taeyong shakes his head, “That guy broke your heart.”
“He wasn’t trying to,” you mutter.
“And he still did, that’s the crazy part.”
“It was two years ago. To be fair, all of us were stupid at eighteen.”
“Not all of us were cheating on our partners with a girl we met on summer break, though,” Taeyong quips, incredulous that he’s even having this discussion with you. You’ve always been on the same page, what changed?
You groan, “God, Taeyong. Sure, he cheated. Duh, he was in the wrong. But it wasn’t me that he cheated on and it’s not like we were ever in a relationship. He couldn’t have known how I felt about him when I did everything in my power to hide my feelings. And what if he’s changed?”
“And what if he hasn’t?” Taeyong retorts quickly.
The silence in the room is deadly. Taeyong can’t believe that he’s having to talk some sense into you, all while your other two friends sit quietly observing your argument. Is he the only one thinking around here? Why aren’t they helping?
Then, Yeri speaks up from the other side of the room, “Instead of arguing, let’s just put Jaehyun to the test.”
“And how do you plan on going about that?” Taeyong grumbles.
“Letting her talk to him, dimwit, how else?” Yeri rolls her eyes, “I know that you probably think that allowing him within a ten-foot radius of her is going to break her heart, but you’re greatly underestimating my best friend’s strength. She isn’t stupid, she can identify red flags.”
“Ease up on the fighting words,” Jaemin chuckles, “but I dunno, Yeri’s right. The only way she’ll know if he’s changed is to see for herself. If she notices anything odd, she can give him the boot. It’s not rocket science.”
You glance at Taeyong. Truthfully, you don’t need his permission, and both of you know that. But it would be nice to feel validated by your best friends, especially the overprotective one.
Taeyong glances back at you, and his expression softens. He’s always had a soft spot for you, and it’s hard to tell you no. Plus, he doesn’t want to be the token villain when everyone else is telling you to go for it. To chase what you want.
And in all honesty, Taeyong wishes he could chase what he wants. But the last thing he is is selfish, so maybe now is the time he lets you go.
Finally, he groans, “Alright, fine. Whatever. Talk to Jaehyun, see if he’s really ready to commit. But if this guy breaks your heart, I’m going to quote-unquote accidentally spill the hottest coffee on his face, just to give him a taste of the fire that is hell, where he will burn for eternity.”
Jaemin shivers, having flashbacks to the first time he spoke to Taeyong, “You love a good coffee threat, don’t you? So many fighting words.”
Taeyong doesn’t reply, just glares at Jaemin sharply.
“Hostile, but I’m with him,” Yeri nods, “Mark my words, that man will die a slow, painful death if he makes one more mistake.”
“Yep!” Jaemin agrees, “Don’t worry, babes. We got your back.”
At that, you smile. Your friends are on your side. Now, here comes the real trouble.
Mustering the ability to talk to Jaehyun.
Fortunately, Yerim’s annual Pal-Cation was right around the corner, and would extend until the end of the week.
Last year, Jaehyun didn’t attend.
Correction: he wasn’t invited.
Yeri and Jaehyun haven’t been on amazing terms since she became aware of everything, which put a dent in their relationship. This year, she’s invited him in favor of playing Cupid.
You’re a little nervous, anxious about being in the same space as Jaehyun for more than three minutes after all these years. You’re scared and you’re not sure of what, because if Jaehyun’s really as changed as he implies he is, the result should be predictable.
Then again, you don’t really know Jaehyun’s reason for wanting to talk to you, and that makes you all the more panicked. Of course, he wants you to hear him out, but what does he want to come out of that? A second chance? At what?To you, your relationship was so much more than sex. But what if it wasn’t to him? What if he just wants to get inside your pants?
“Girl, please,” Jaemin scoffs, crashing against your hotel bed like he owns the place. He’s in comfortable awe, and probably wouldn’t think twice if someone told him the beds were made out of marshmallows, “you were defending his life choices like yesterday—god damn, these beds are soft—and now you’re having second thoughts? Since when do you back down from things?”
You throw a pillow at him, “I was not defending him!”
“I talked to him earlier, when he asked me if I was sure about wanting him here,” Yeri states, sitting on the seat in front of the mirror. “Told him that there’s no way in hell he’d be here right now if I didn’t want him to be. He laughed and promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid, and I told him know, because if he does do something stupid it’s off with his motherfuckin’ head.”
Jaemin smiles, satisfied, “Yeah, that should do it. I’d be scared half to death, you could probably pay someone to kill him and no one would suspect a thing.”
“Enough about killing him,” you grimace, “I’m just, I dunno, nervous, I guess. What if he just wants to get in my pants?”
“Guess you better go found out, and tonight is the perfect opportunity. I reserved the pool, so we have the entire area to ourselves until midnight.”
“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be too bad anyways. When was the last time you got laid?” Jaemin adds.
You sneer and flip him off, “For your information, I got laid at that party Friday night when you left me for dead to go get drunk. And that’s why your ass was hungover. And Yeri, you never told me that your step-brother was so fucking hot.”
Yeri exclaims, “You slept with Jongin?”
“You slept with her brother?”
And that’s where you conclude that you’ve overshared, and it’s time for everyone to have some time to themselves, “Alright, everybody out,” you push and pull them both out, until they’re standing outside your door, “I’ll see you guys tonight.”
Then you shut the door, and lie on your bed, sighing with comfort. Jaemin’s right, the beds really are comfortable. You’re feeling drowsy already and decide to rest your eyes. There’s hours until it’s Pool Time.
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Pool Time comes faster than you wished.
You’re antsy, but Yeri has SHINee’s Punch Drunk Love playing, so you feel more at ease. It also serves as a reminder that you’re going to need a drink or two to get through the night.
It doesn’t help that you had a dream about Jaehyun while you were trying to rest your eyes, about the night when you first you met him. You were at Yeri’s step-father’s beach house, and the dream was specifically when you made out in the middle of the pool. I’ll never let you drown, baby. You shake the memory away.
You glance around, and see everyone’s here. Yeri’s talking to her friend Mark who obviously has a crush on her, Jaemin’s engaging in conversation with Taeyong who for once doesn’t look like he wants to rip Jaemin’s head off, Yeri’s other friends are playing in the pool, and—Jaehyun.
Jaehyun’s seated at the bar, looking dead at you, which is exactly where you need to be but your lunch and your stomach seem to not be getting along suddenly. You tear your gaze, and glance back at Yeri. You need her help, one last push or words of encouragement, but you’re not selfish enough to interrupt Mark’s attempts at flirting with your friend and getting some.
Well fuck, you groan. You’re all alone this time, and deciding you look stupid standing there by yourself, you march to the bar and hoist yourself on the stool beside Jaehyun, ignoring the increasing speed of your heartbeat. It doesn’t help that this place only has two barstools.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bartender asks you. She’s pretty, got long dark hair and a nice face. You wonder if Jaehyun flirting with her is the reason she’s been smiling so hard since before you sat down, trying to stifle a giggle.
And you frown at your own thoughts. Leave it to you to automatically assume the worst.
“No idea. Suprise me,” you sigh, and with a nod she gets to work.
It’s difficult, more like impossible to ignore Jaehyun’s presence beside you. He isn’t saying anything, isn’t doing anything as far as you can tell without looking at him, but the knowledge that he’s there has you on your toes.
The bartender brings back your drink, tells you to enjoy and you say thank you before having a taste. You need this before you dare say a word to him.
And then he dare speaks, “Hi.”
You can feel your heart racing and you don’t know why, but you do know that you don’t like it. There’s no reason to feel like this, you heard Jaehyun talk at the party. You somehow manage to chirp back quietly, “Hi.”
“Aren’t you gonna look at me?”
It feels like he’s challenging you, almost to say you’re too much of a pussy to look him dead in the face, and you know you’re more than likely making that up but Jaehyun’s the first person to know that you’re last person to back down from a challenge, so you do turn to look at him.
It takes everything in you to stay rational when you do. You get the chance to look at him, to really look at him, and you’re taken aback by his features. He looks the same, but different all at once, obviously a little older.
Beside you is no longer the teenage boy with the cute, high-pitched voice, but a man with a deep and matured sound to his voice. He’s smiling a little wildly at you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in years.
You take a sip from your drink so that you don’t smile back and say, “I’m looking.”
“See something you like?”
“Nope,” you lie, as though you weren’t obvious checking him out seconds ago, “just you.”
“Aww, don’t be like that,” Jaehyun grins playfully, “smile a little, won’t you?”
“Let’s cut to the chase, Jaehyun,” you change the subject. You refuse to let his little games work on you. “Didn’t you want me to hear you out? Hop to it or I’m leaving.”
He blinks. “Here?”
Well no one can hear you other than the bartender, but it’s a personal issue that deserves the utmost privacy and it’s not like you’re willing to share your personal business with a stranger, so you agree to walk around the pool with him. Close enough so that you’re not bumping into walls, distant enough to not be overheard.
You glance at him, “So?”
Jaehyun sighs, “Rather than defending myself, I think I should apologize. For not telIing you I was in a relationship, for risking dragging you into drama, it was selfish. I was selfish.”
It was selfish. He couldn’t have been thinking of your feelings, or even her feelings.
“There’s no excuse for what I did, and I can’t imagine how belittled it made you feel. You don’t have to forgive me, and I know you’re probably gonna hate me forever for this and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know that I’m sorry,” he gives you those emotional eyes, the same dejected gleam in them, “Sincerely. And if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”
“Tell me why,” you want the answers that you’ve been searching for all these years. Not exactly closure, but you don’t want to live in doubt, wondering maybe you were never enough, and that’s why you were always the side piece.
“Why I did it?”
You nod, and he’s silent for a moment.
“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know why eighteen-year-old me did the shit I did, but I know that I did it and I can’t take it back. I’ve looked back so many times and I still can’t fathom…” Jaehyun trails off, then starts shaking his head, “you know what? Maybe I do know why.”
Don’t cry, you tell yourself. You’re stronger than this. You’re blinking back tears, attempting to keep your voice level as you whisper, “Why then, Jaehyun?”
“It’s not the shocking, life-changing reason I always thought it would be,” he chuckles sadly, “it’s because I was stupid. And careless. I wasn’t thinking, but at the same time I thought I had the world at my feet, and I guess I did but then I…” Jaehyun stops to take a breath after he realizes he’s rambling. “But then I lost you. And that’s when I realized that this, the lying, the cheating, the going behind your backs—it was stupid.”
“It was stupid,” you agree, and he laughs a little more. “But let me ask you one more thing…” you say. He doesn’t reply, but his eyes tell you to go ahead. “Did you love her?” Or did you love me?
Jaehyun nods lazily. “At one point.”
You bite your lip, unsatisfied.
“Did you love me?”
That catches him off-guard. You almost expect him to stop walking the way he’s frozen, and you feel your stomach churning in regret.
“Nevermind, forget I asked that—”
“When you first left, I was unaffected,” Jaehyun interjects. “Like I said, I thought I had the world at my feet, so I thought you were replaceable. I tried replacing you. But it wasn’t the same, no matter how many times I tried, it was never, ever the same,” his eyes muse at you, “No one looked at me the way you did, no one talked to me all night and made me laugh like you did, no one ran circles through my mind like you, no one was like you. So I knew I needed you back, but by the time I realized you were already gone. And that’s when I knew I had fucked up.”
He adds, “So, yeah. I did love you. Maybe it was at the wrong time, maybe it was too late for me to love you, maybe I wasn’t supposed to, but I did and I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”
Jaehyun’s thumb runs over your eyes, wiping a string of tears that you hadn’t even know you cried. He doesn’t say anything about it, just pulls you closer to his chest.
“What about you?” He asks.
“What about me?”
“Did you love me?”
Now it’s your turn to freeze, and then you almost laugh. Of course, you loved him. You were in love with him. Hopelessly.
“Can I be honest?”
Jaehyun nods. “Mm-hm. That’s what this is all about, right?”
You exhale a sharp breath, preparing to tell one of your deepest, darkest secrets to the one person that was never supposed to know, “When I told you the reason I wanted to end things was because of you cheating on her, that wasn’t the whole truth. It was part of it, and though I’m no homewrecker, there’s another reason. I was in love with you—hopelessly, helplessly, utterly—and I couldn’t stand the thought that you never felt the same, that I was just a plaything to you.”
“Y/n—”
“Let me finish,” you order, “I left to take care of me. I thought it would have been disrespectful towards myself to stay in that position, when from my understanding, I loved you yet you loved her,” you feel another trail of tears coming, and wipe them away before they have the chance to spill. “At that moment, when I found out you already had someone, I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. I thought that maybe you never really cared, and I was the only one that felt it.”
It, the love. The spark. The connection. The butterflies in your stomach when he held you close, or called you cute pet names. The emotion whenever he was deep inside you.
“It felt like I had given my heart to a stranger,” you laugh humorlessly, “because for all I knew, who’s to say I was the only one you were fucking behind her back? I felt so, so stupid. Like I was never enough. And when I first saw your face again after all these years, all of that hurt came back. But at the same time,” you look him in his eyes, “all my feelings for you came back, too.”
It’s silent for a moment, but it isn’t awkward. You’ve just confessed your feelings for one another, not only now, but for the you of two years ago. For the you of eighteen who never thought you’d ever have this chance.
And you can’t believe Jaehyun’s actually had feelings for you, too. It always seemed like some fairytale thing, but hearing one another out like responsible adults instead of immature teens changes things.
“Wow,” Jaehyun whispers in surprise, “Wow. I was such a fool. I made a simple thing so fucking complicated. Imagine where we’d be if I would have just broken up with her and realized my feelings sooner.”
Together. You’d be together, as one.
“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve, didn’t,” you say lightheartedly, “There’s no use in worrying about that. You’ve apologized. And I forgive you.”
“You forgive me?” Jaehyun gawks. “Why? I thought you’d hate me forever or something.”
“I kinda still hate the you of two years ago, he’s an asshole,” you giggle, “but the you standing next to me right now, today, is a changed man who knows his mistake and won’t do that shit ever a-fucking-gain. Or else.”
Jaehyun snorts. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare.”
You smile, “Good.”
“Good. So do we address our relationship too, or…”
“Later, please,” you groan. “Come sit by the water with me.”
Jaehyun agrees, and so now you’re sitting at the edge of the pool, your head resting on his shoulder.
“Is SHINee still your favorite band?” He asks.
“Yeah,” you mumble, heart warming at the fact that he even still remembers that.
Then he teases, “Do you still swoon over Lee Taemin?”
You give him a very, very icy glare, “Shut up. I’ll push you into the pool right now.”
“You wouldn’t,” Jaehyun challenges.
Wrong move, you smirk. You love a challenge.
So in one swift movement, you do push him into the pool, and the sound of him yelling and the water splashing is like music to your ears. You giggle, watching as he comes back up, hair heavy and soaked as it sticks to him like a second skin. You also take notice of his white t-shirt, or his abs through the soaked cotton. Six pack. Toned. Stupid dumb crazy hot. Damn, sometimes you forget why you kept coming back to him.
He sneers, unamused. “Not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” you disagree with a smile.
“Oh yeah?” he says, “Look, Lee Taemin!”
You turn without fully processing his statement yet, “Wha—agh!”
In an even swifter motion, Jaehyun’s pulled your ankles, and now a distracted you falls into the pool with a splash. Not to mention, your bikini cover-up is still on. This, unfortunately, is karma. Inconvenience aside, you’re getting deja vu, a distant memory seeping back into your mind.
You whine, “Not fair.”
“It’s a little fair,” he mocks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“You’re lucky I know how to swim,” you wringe out your hair, “You would have had an lawsuit against you if I didn’t.”
You wonder if he’s taken the hint, if he’s gonna say it. You remember that exact moment, being so close to his face and feeling so warm. I’d never let you drown, baby.
And like a rehearsed line, he says perfectly, “I’d never let you drown, baby.”
“You remember.” Your tone is like a question, but it’s a statement.
“I remember a lot of things about you,” Jaehyun states, and perfectly timed, the current song fades into your all-time personal favorite—SHINee’s 1 of 1. “For instance, is this still your favorite SHINee song?”
One glance in Yeri’s direction confirms your suspicion that this is all her doing, as you see her giggling at you, phone in hand. It was already suspicious of her to play SHINee when she’s an Ariana Grande girl, but now you definitely see her her crystal-clear intentions.
“Yeah,” you mutter, but as you turn back around you notice he’s definitely close enough to hear you. Your noses are almost touching, and you can feel your heart racing. You feel like a teenager in love all over again, blood pumping, your heart beating in your ears. Deja vu.
Jaehyun must be feeling it too, because he asks, “Can I kiss you?”
Yet again, you blush. “Sure.”
And on cue, his lips are against yours. Jaehyun’s still an amazing kisser, he feels gentle yet he’s so fierce, gripping your waist as your fingers tangle in his hair. You know for a fact he’d be even rougher if you weren’t inside of a pool.
His lips feel better than you remember, and then he bites your lip. You moan, lips parting and he darts his tongue in your mouth. You can taste his drink on his tongue, faint remnants of whatever he had in his cup.
Fuck, you forgot how high kissing him makes you feel. It’s like an addictive drug, and you can feel nothing but your heartbeat and his lips on yours. You don’t want him to stop.
And then, to your misfortune, he does stop. You whimper, not really taking notice of how out of breath you are as you’re overcome with greed.
“Why’d you stop?” You frown.
“You need to breathe, babe. You wanna almost drown in the pool like Taeyong?” He laughs.
Speaking of Taeyong, you check on him with your eyes. To your surprise, he’s still talking and laughing with Jaemin, the pair obviously hitting it off and super into one another. It makes you smile. That boy’s had a huge crush on you that you both know you can’t reciprocate for years, and it’s time he lets you go.
“Hello… Earth to y/n? You look like the cute puppy eyes emoji.”
Your eyes snap at Jaehyun, “Shut up,” you reply, “And kiss me.”
“Bossy,” Jaehyun teases, but he must like that about you, because moments later he’s kissing you again, even more passionately than before.
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“Oh, c’mon!”
Yeri giggles, “Sorry, y/n. The majority rules!”
For the second day of your California vacation, Yeri’s decided to take everyone to an amusement park an hour out from the hotel. You asked her why she didn’t do Disney Land this year, but she said it was reserved for her first Bae-Cation.
You roll your eyes. What happened to chicks over dicks?
The point is, you wanted to separate into groups, considering it would be easier to keep up with everyone. However, everyone else wanted to do pairs, arguing that there was more freedom and it’d be easier to come towards a mutual decision instead of arguing over what to ride.
So everyone grabs their partners, and you’re shocked when you see Jaemin and Taeyong step beside one another. You’re incredulous. Jaemin’s just been abandoning you left and right ever since he came back.
“You two in love or some shit now?” You fold your arms, eyes pointing at them accusingly. “What happened to those coffee threats, Yong? I thought you said Jaem was annoying. And Jaemin? You said he was scary!”
Jaemin shrugs coolly. “He was, but then I realized something. Taeyong’s like an egg, he has a hard shell—” Taeyong glares, “—nevermind, he doesn’t like that comparison very much. Taeyong’s like a smore, hard on the outside yet warm and soft on the inside. Oh, and very deli—ow!”
Jaemin holds his stomach dramatically, looking at Taeyong who stands with a satisfied grin on his face. Perhaps, Taeyong still is a little scary.
“Jaem! Yong!”
“Ooh, that reminds me,” Jaemin eyes twinkle, “I think our ship name should be Jaeyong.”
Taeyong disagrees, “No way. It should be Taemin.”
“First of all, you two will never be Taemin,” you interject with a scowl. “Anyways, you two figure that out. I’ll go be with my partner.”
And you stomp away to spot Jaehyun waiting for you with a cheeky grin. You’re optionless, you suppose. Yeri’s with Mark again, Taeyong and Jaemin are obviously a thing now, Seulgi’s with Winter and Jennie’s with Nayeon.
It’s not even like last night ended poorly. Last night couldn’t have been better, you spent your time making out and drinking with Jaehyun in the pool until midnight. It was too good to be true, you felt like Cinderella, having to slip back into her normal life by the time the clock struck twelve.
Now though, you have to be alone with Jaehyun. Okay technically, you’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people, and depending on where you go your friends may or may not be accompanying you, though still. It isn’t that you don’t trust him, but isn’t it natural to feel uneasy?
Jaehyun calls, “C’mon, princess! Let’s go get hotdogs. I’m hungry.”
“We ate at the hotel,” you snort.
“So? That was an hour ago. Plus the time it took for us to get through that crazy ass line. If you’re not hungry, I’ll buy you a lemonade or something.”
A lemonade does sound good, you ponder. It’s summertime, and no amount of sunglasses and mosquito-repellent sunscreen is going to help you beat this heat. It’s ninety-something degrees.
“Fine,” you give in, and an eternity later (curse these never-ending lines) you’re sitting down at a bench, you sipping on your humongous cup of lemonade and Jaehyun eating a hotdog.
To be honest, you really didn’t need the largest size that they had. You were just testing his reaction for the fun of it, expecting to have a giggle or two, but he totally surprised you, buying it and insisting you should have it even after you told him that you were just playing.
The Jaehyun you knew three years ago was many things, and rich was not one of them.
“Let’s talk,” he says after discarding his hotdog in the bin. Oh of course, Jaehyun’s brain cannot function when he’s running low on food.
Playing dumb, you ask, “About what?”
“Us,” he answers simply.
“In the middle of an amusement park?”
“It’s important,” Jaehyun grins, “You don’t trust me.”
Perplexity is written all over your face. You trust Jaehyun on the basic level, you feel safe around him and in his embrace. But you’re not sure if you trust him with your heart just yet, and after everything he did, you have the right to be scared.
“And I understand why. I hurt you once, you’re scared I might do it again. So let’s start over,” he concludes, and you blink. “From scratch. Past aside. I want you to get to know me, and I wanna get to know you. I’m sure there’s plenty of things I don’t know about you now.”
I mean, you know the gist. You didn’t say that aloud, of course. Through a discussion last night, he still knows your favorite color and your undying love for pie and SHINee, especially Taemin, your birthday, your mom’s birthday, even your dog’s birthday—okay, maybe he knows too much. Or you overshared. Who knows.
And you still remember a lot of facts about him, but at the same time, there’s still so much you don’t know about one another.
“Right,” you agree, “So by starting over, you mean…”
“Completely,” he answers quick. “Let’s re-introduce ourselves.”
Your lips don’t quiver, drawn into a line. “You gotta be kidding.”
“I’m serious!” Jaehyun claims. “C’mon, I’ll even go first.”
“Jaehyun—”
“Aht, aht! You’re not supposed to know my name,” Jaehyun chides. “Hi, my name’s Jaehyun, I’m twenty-one, and I like Cigarettes After Sex. The band, I mean. I don’t smoke.”
You roll your eyes. There was no need for him to explain, because literally everybody knows Jaehyun likes Cigarettes After Sex, the same way everyone knows you like SHINee. But for the sake of placating him and getting this over with, you refuse to make any comments.
“This is so corny.”
“The longer you wait the longer it takes.”
Reluctantly you give in, but not without a groan. “Hi, Jaehyun. My name’s y/n, I’m also twenty-one, and I like SHINee.”
Jaehyun claps dramatically, “Bravo! Was that so hard?”
“Yes, actually.”
He giggles, tells you to stop being dramatic and you two begin your mission to ride every ride that you can within the span of a few hours. You get more snacks in between, sharing a container of butter-y delicious popcorn and double-dating some rides with the other pairs (which unfortunately happens to lead to you witnessing Mark throwing up in a bush).
Unfortunately, time flies by fast when you’re having fun, and when Yeri texts the Pal-Cation Pals group chat to meet up by the first popcorn stand in fifteen minutes, you know you have little time remaining, enough for one last ride.
The Ferris Wheel.
Last but not least, the Ferris Wheel. You and Jaehyun have been saving it for last, agreeing the full experience is at dark night, when the colorful lights illuminate the indigo sky.
“Let’s go!” You pull him into a cart, and he laughs at your enthusiasm.
When the ride starts, Jaehyun holds your hand and you rest your head on his shoulder. It feels nice and comfortable, and you quickly realize you miss having him like this. Close to you. And it’s silent for a moment. You and Jaehyun have always had these moments together, where you’re not talking one another’s ears off, but holding each other in warm silence. You have always valued the other’s company.
You watch as the world gets smaller underneath your feet, how the Ferris wheel lights twinkle in vibrant colors, and shine on its surroundings. You see how the other rides glow in the dark, appearing so close yet so far away.
It’s beautiful. Your eyes flare different colors—red, blue, pink, green—as you gawk in wonder. If you could, you’d stay like this forever, watching this astonishing sight with Jaehyun at your side.
“You look pretty in the light,” Jaehyun marvels, snapping you out of your daze. The butterflies and their flapping wings come back, and he’s always been able to make you feel like this so easily.
Warmth fills your cheeks, and you turn around so that he doesn’t notice. “Don’t I always? Or are you saying I only look pretty in the light?”
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, “You’re still impossible. I’m trying to flirt with you.”
“Then do so,” you smile. “Keep telling me about how pretty I am.”
“Look at me,” Jaehyun whispers, but it’s loud and clear to you. Slowly, you do look at him, noticing the way his lips curl into a soft grin, and how the purple light casts on his gorgeous skin and features. “Your lips are pretty, too.”
Next, he’ll call your bones pretty and you’ll still feel your face flush with heat.
Jaehyun kissed you for hours last night, but when his lips collide with yours again you know that you’ll never get used to the feeling. Your fingers card through his hair while his gravitate towards your skin, cold hands sending a shiver down your spine as they mesh with the evening warmth.
You bite at his lip this time, wallowing in the sound of his moan as it tumbles from between his parted lips. He can feel you smiling, the corners of your lips spreading apart as you stifle a laugh.
It feels like fire consumes you, like you’re melting, melting into his touch, like candle wax as his fingertips trace your skin. Like a bomb’s ignited inside you, like you’re exploding, and the more you feel him the more you desire him. The more you crave him, the more your body yearns for him.
You know you have him when you move for his neck, marking a trail of red lipstick stains that look purple in the light. He takes it as a challenge, retaliating with a bite at your neck that makes you sigh in pleasure, and this is definitely why you get along so well—you’re compatible.
“When we get back,” you gasp, ignoring the complacent look he casts at you, “Meet me in my room.”
“What about the others?”
“They saw us making out in the pool, Jaehyun, literally nobody cares,” you roll your eyes. “No more sneaking around shit, right?”
He smiles, “Right. Can’t anyways, your lipstick is all over my throat.”
You giggle, and bring him back in for another kiss as the ride begins to slow to an end.
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The next couple of days are equally eventful, yet fly by far too quickly for your liking. You hit the beach and unfortunately witness a woman being stung by a jelly fish, visit some museums, the zoo, and even hike near the Hollywood sign. You also make sure to spend Yeri’s money on some souvenirs, and Jaehyun buys you matching necklaces. You have his J, he has your first initial.
Today is Saturday—already. Tomorrow you will return home, and you’re not sure if you’re ready or not. You sigh as you scroll through your camera roll. You’ve had so much fun this week, there’s the pictures of Mark’s scared face on the roller coaster, Taeyong buried alive into the sand, Yeri and the girls trying on humongous sun glasses at the mall, and the video of Jaemin and Jaehyun arm-wrestling to determine who’s the better Jae to prove it (Jaehyun won).
Like a normal Saturday, today’s the one chill day. The whole week has been chaotic in a fun way, but Yeri had nothing else planned, so she told everyone to take a day to wind down and feel free to venture out to wrap up the vacation.
Which leads you to now.
Jaehyun and you agreed to visit the park, just walking around and talking, and perhaps doing some making out in between. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, and you’re pretty sure you’re addicted. It’s like there’s crack in his lips that cannot simply be fixed with chapstick.
“It’s hot,” you complain.
Jaehyun snorts. “We’re in California, babe. Imagine Yeri took us to Florida.”
You wince. You’re barely beating the Californian heat, there’s no way you’ll survive down south in Florida. It doesn’t even snow there.
“I thought you were gonna say some fake-romantic shit, like I’ll reach into the sky and throw the sun into the freezer, princess, just say the word,” you mimick his voice exaggeratedly.
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but laughs nonetheless, “No can do, princess,” he teases, “but I can get us some ice cream from that stand over there. Stay put, I’ll be right back.”
“Wait!” You shout. “You even know what I want?”
He says your favorite flavor, and even your preferred container to consume it in, “Right?”
A smile spreads on your lips, and your heart flutters. He remembers. “Right.”
Jaehyun shoots you a smile then jogs over to the ice cream stand, pulling his wallet from his pockets. You gotta remember to ask him where he’s getting all this money from, this man could be a drug dealer for all you know.
Nonetheless, you sit at a nearby bench and pull out your phone. Nothing beats checking up on your Animal Crossing island while you wait.
You notice the presence of someone sitting beside you but don’t bat an eye, knowing without looking that it isn’t Jaehyun. And who are you to shoo away a stranger if they want to rest their feet?
“You must be y/n,” hearing your name, your eyes snap to the side instinctively.
And that’s when you realize that this stranger may not be as unknown as you initially thought.
Your eyes widen, “You…”
“I am, Jaehyun’s ex-girlfriend,” she, Victoria announces proudly, like it’s some achievement to be clipped onto the fridge.
You never met her, but you’ll never forget her name, or her face for that matter. It’s kind of stupid, how you found out. You were on Instagram, and you saw Jaehyun’s account in the replies of Yeri’s post. You clicked his profile, because you had never exchanged accounts before, and you quickly saw why.
He didn’t post her often, amongst all the flaunting images of himself, but when he did he made it crystal clear that she was his girlfriend, and what sole other woman would he continuously post onto his page?
“What are you doing here?” You ask, an obviously bitter edge to your voice. It isn’t she that you should be bitter towards, but you can’t help but feel slightly defensive.
“Relax, darling, I’m not stalking you on whatever summer vacation he’s had the courtesy to whisk you away on,” Victoria giggles. Of course not, that would be obsessive. “It’s actually a coincidence to see you, but since we’re here, let’s talk.”
Disinterested, you reply, “There’s nothing for you and I to discuss.”
“Of course, there is! You were fucking with him while he was with me, right?” she gives you a picture-perfect smile that makes you want to grit your teeth, yet you compose yourself. She sighs, “You know that, and yet you’re like what, dating him now? I’m telling you now, once a cheater, always a cheater. You might think he loves you now, but I promise you, he’ll stab you in the back the moment you aren’t looking.”
Victoria misjudges your silence as you giving her the go-ahead to continue, “I know that you know, and I know you’re trying to convince yourself that he’s changed, but he’s still the same old bastard he was three years ago. I mean just look at him, he’s even flirting with that lady now.”
With furrowed brows, you turn in Jaehyun’s direction, eyes finding that he actually is flirting with the ice cream lady. You can’t believe your eyes. Really? The fucking ice cream woman? He isn’t trying to be subtle with it, either.
She tilts her head as she speaks in your ear, “See? He doesn’t give a fuck. Not about you, not about her, not about any of us. You’re just yet another notch in his belt.”
And suddenly, all those doubts come back, the ones that you had pushed away and replaced with your growing feelings for him. Yet now that they’re existing within the same space, it’s even more terrifying, it’s exactly what you feared.
What if Jaehyun never really cared? What if all this is just some big act? What if he’s just been playing with your emotions this entire time? What if you don’t really know Jaehyun like you thought?
You want him, but what if he doesn’t really want you?
Jaehyun walks over, seemingly not noticing his ex-girlfriend’s presence, “I got the ice cream. Who’s th—Victoria?”
“Hello, Jaehyun,” she waves, offering him a smile. “We were just talking about you.”
“What the fuck did you tell her?” Jaehyun scowls, taking notice of your silence and the empty, unhappy gaze you shoot him. You don’t even smile, hardly even blink.
Victoria shrugs. “Nothing she doesn’t already know.”
“I’m walking back to the hotel,” you announce, sliding your phone back into your pocket and peeling yourself off of the bench.
“Wait!”
He calls out your name.
For the third time, you turn and walk away.
This time, though, he’s not letting you walk away. Not without putting up a fight first.
“Why are we doing this again?” Jaehyun yells. “Why? Did I do something? We can just talk this out, you know. What happened to no more secrets?”
You retort, “You fucking tell me, Jaehyun! How am I supposed to know that you don’t have secrets?”
“The same goddamn way I know you don’t have any! Trust!” And the realization hits him hard. He knows that it’s only been some days, but what could Victoria have said to make you back out so hastily? “Is that what it is? You don’t trust me?”
Tears sting your eyes. “Trust you? You want me to trust you? With you being the kind of person you are? You’re out of luck.”
That burned Jaehyun. After all of the bonding you’ve done lately, he would’ve thought that you would trust him a little more, but he sees clearly now. He sees that he’s done all he can do, and now it’s time for you to do your part.
“What kind of person am I, y/n?” He asks coldly, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You spit, “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah?” Jaehyun laughs tonelessly, “Well frankly I think you’re an asshole, too. So when you’re ready to be assholes together, let me know.”
And this time, Jaehyun’s the one that walks away. This time, you understand his pain, as you have those tear-stung eyes and that quivering voice. That empty feeling inside, the pang in your heart. The way it’s killing you inside, but you don’t have it in you to move, to chase him. All you can do for now is let it eat at you slowly.
Maybe Victoria was wrong. Maybe you’re planting the knife in your own back.
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Sunday comes slowly, and you’re glad you didn’t ride the same van as Jaehyun. You still have to deal with the curious stares your friends shoot you, but it’s better than confronting your emotions, or at least you think it is.
You’re not ready yet.
When you get home, the first time you do is order Panda Express via Uber Eats so that you don’t starve as you rot in your room. The next thing you do is flop against your bed and and sob.
A few days go by like this, in pure brutal agony. You drowning in your thoughts, the maybes and the what if’s. You feel like a teenage girl experiencing her first break-up, lost and confused and unsure of how to deal with the hurt. It’s no one’s fault but yours though, and it’s your job to fix it or forever hold your peace.
Love is hard. You know that. You accept that. If you couldn’t, then it would be wrong of you to try be in a real relationship. But loving, as a verb, is easy. Too easy. So easy, to the point where sometimes, you don’t realize you’re doing it until it’s too late. What’s harder is accepting the fact that love isn’t a choice, but a feeling. If it was, you would have chosen to stop loving Jaehyun years ago. You would have chosen to fall in love with Taeyong, or maybe even Kai.
But your heart chose Jung Jaehyun, and it must have a mind of it’s own, because no matter how much you tell it to let go, it doesn’t listen.
That’s why as the days go by, they’re slow and empty. Because Jaehyun’s not there. Not with you. And a little voice in the back of your head is saying he’s with another girl, but your heart is telling you to have faith. You are severely conflicted.
Just when you think you might just spend the rest of your life rotting here, you’re quickly proven wrong by the dedication and genuine care and concern of your best friends.
“Hey, bitch,” Jaemin strolls in casually, as though this is his room, “New guy already?”
“What?”
“Some guy opened the door,” he replies, flopping against your bean-bag cough.
You blink, gears turning in your mind as you try to decipher what man could possibly be inside of your house—oh. You roll your eyes, “That’s my roommate’s boyfriend, you dumbass.”
“Oh,” Jaemin mumbles, then his eyes twinkle as he makes a move for your desk, “Ooh, Panda Express.”
Suddenly, Yeri storms inside your bedroom, flickering on the lights inside your very much dim and deprived of life, sunshine and happiness room, chanting vigorously the lyrics to Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj’s The Light is Coming, “The light is coming to give back everything the darkness stole!”
You groan, yanking the sheets and comforter over your face to block out the light like a vampire, “You guys, please leave me alone.”
“Nope,” says Taeyong, who follows suit after your other friends, venturing into your room. You fight, you tugging the covers towards you while he attempts at pulling them off. It’s a quick battle which you lose, and you soon accept defeat. “You’ve been suffering in silence—and darkness—for far too long. So, fess up. What did that punk do? Do I need to prepare the coffee?”
You sigh, Saturday seeping back into your memory. “He didn’t do anything.”
Jaemin blinks. “What do you mean? Why else have you been sulking in your bedroom for the past four days like a divorced man who’s ex-wife took the kids and the TV? Shit, all you’re missing is a bar and some alcohol at this point.”
You roll your eyes, “I mean, I was the one that fucked up this time.”
“What?”
“What?”
“What?”
They all gasp involuntarily, and if you had it in you, you would roll your eyes at the chorus of what’s.
That day rewinds in your head, how it was so warm then so cold within a matter of moments. Your eyes water as you recall everything that happened, Victoria, your public altercation, walking back to the hotel alone while it felt like there was a rain cloud above your head, despite the piping hot conditions outdoors.
It isn’t like you don’t want to let Jaehyun in. You do, but you’re terrified of granting him that permission, of giving him your heart when he’s broken it before. But this way, you’re only breaking your heart more, and breaking his, too.
“I did something stupid. I assumed the worst when I shouldn’t have, and then I got scared. So I ran,” you want to bury yourself underneath the covers and sink into the earth to be forgotten, but you have to deal with your mistakes. “And I broke his heart. Now I need to fix it, but I don’t fucking know how.”
Yeri thinks you’re dumb.
Taeyong thinks you’re stupid.
Jaemin thinks you’re out of your fucking mind and an absolute fool for letting your thoughts destroy you, but he’ll do whatever he can to help.
“Talk to him, duh,” Yeri says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it is, but easier said than done.
“How? I bet he doesn’t even want to see my face.”
“Are you kidding?” Jaemin gawks. “He’s been moping around the apartment like literally all week, and me and Jongin haven’t said anything because we thought it was his fault! He also has divorced man syndrome!”
Oh. You feel extra stupid now, and you can’t believe you let Victoria get in your head. Collapsing onto your pillow, you groan, “I really am an asshole.”
“Maybe, yeah,” Taeyong agrees, “but so is he, you guys are a match made in heaven.”
“Or hell,” Jaemin chimes in.
Taeyong glares. “With that being said—and I mean this in the friendliest way possible—get your head out of your ass and go talk to him.”
And you smile softly at that. If Taeyong’s giving you the push, you know that everyone’s right and you need to do something. Now.
You nod and whip out your phone with a sigh, opening iMessage. Can we talk?
(Delivered.)
(Read.)
Sure.
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Antsy, you’re fidgeting. Your anxiety is spiking and you can feel your heartbeat directly in your eardrums, but this time your fears won’t scare you off. You wait for Jaehyun, feet tapping against the ground restlessly, until you see him nearing.
He walks over to your side, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and you feel your heart wrenching a little when you notice that he doesn’t give you his wild grin he usually shoots whenever he sees you. His face is inscrutable, and you bite back the urge to run, because you know now that no matter how fast you run, you’ll never be able to hide from your feelings.
“Hey,” your voice is giving up on you, but you refuse to let it. Get a grip.
“Hey,” Jaehyun whispers back. His eyes are dark and empty, and that’s how you know you cut him deep. There’s always a gleam to his eyes, whether sad or blissful.
You can do this, you tell yourself. You’ve talked to him about much worse before, this should be nothing. But still, it’s never been quite like this. You’ve never made this bad of a mistake.
“About Saturday,” you begin, still fidgeting but managing to look at him, “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions instead of asking you, instead of trusting you, and I let Victoria get in my head—”
“Yeah, what the hell was that about?” Jaehyun interjects. “Sorry for interrupting you, but I’m still confused. Did I do something?”
“She pointed out that you were flirting with the ice cream lady. What was that?”
Jaehyun blinks, processing your statement, and when he does he begins shaking his head, “Seriously? You’re telling me this is all over the fucking ice cream? I was only flirting with her to get free ice cream! You know they was trying to charge me fifteen dollars for 4 scoops?”
“It’s not just that!” You exclaim. “Like, yeah, that triggered it, but—fuck, Jaehyun, I was scared, I was so fucking scared. I was overthinking, and all my doubts and fears came back, that what if you never cared, what if you don’t want me like I want you, what if I don’t know you like I think I do? I was scared to trust you, scared that I love you because I don’t want to lose you again—”
If Jaehyun was a dog, his ears would perk up. “You love me?”
“Yes,” you answer boldly. “I love you, Jaehyun. I’m in love with you, and up until now that scared me half to death, because I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to know that you love me, too,” and especially enough to stay. “But now I know. I trust you, Jaehyun. I love you, I want you, and I’m gonna be honest, I’m still a little scared. But that’s what love is, trusting someone to not break your heart. It’s a risk I’m ready to take for you.”
Jaehyun is silently stunned. He doesn’t have much to say, taken aback by your confession and the fact this actually happening. “You mean that?”
You nod, smiling. “Every word.”
In seconds, Jaehyun has you pinned to the wall, his lips against yours. God, you missed this feeling. The feeling of his plush lips against yours, his hands on your body. You miss kissing him irresistibly, every hour of every day, for moments at a time until you were breathless.
Jaehyun seems to have missed it just as much, kissing you with a passion—hungrily; greedily. He kisses you like he can’t have enough, like his lips have an insatiable hunger.
And you can’t believe you’re making out with him behind your apartment, but you’re willing to try new things for him.
Jaehyun taps your thighs, and by now you know that that meets to jump, so you do, shrieking a little, yet he doesn’t let you fall. “I got you,” he whispers in between kisses, breath tickling your skin, “and I won’t ever let you go.”
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It’s been five days. You’ve been trying not to think too hard about the label thing, maybe Jaehyun is planning something, he wouldn’t just forget to ask you to be his girlfriend.
You’re walking back to your apartment when it happens.
“Excuse me,” a stranger with an oddly familiar voice calls at to you, and when you whirl around, the last person to see is…
“Taemin?” You nearly scream. He points his index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet, which makes sense because you’re in public but there’s literally no way the man standing before you is the Lee Taemin. You’re dreaming.
You even pinch yourself, much to his amusement, and come to the realization that this is very much real. You could faint. Taemin? Lee Taemin? From SHINee? There’s simply no way.
“I believe this is for you,” Taemin holds in his hands your all-time favorite SHINee album, The Misconception Of Us. You take it, staring at the album in disbelief. You’re gawking. “And one last thing. Come with me, please?”
Okay, what the hell. He has to be trying to kidnap you or something, it’s perfect bait. Who wouldn’t agree to follow their favorite artist after they randomly pop up behind you and offer you your favorite album for free? You’re lucky it isn’t some kidnapping scheme, because you ultimately end up following him despite your doubts.
He takes you to the cafe, which, to your surprise is empty. At least you think it is, until Jaehyun slips out of hiding, walking up to you with a smile.
“Jaehyun,” you can’t help smile back, “What the?”
“Flip it over,” he says, gesturing towards the album, and curiously, you obey. To the back is attached a sticky note that says, To my 1 of 1 girl, will you be my girlfriend? It’s cheesy, but it has you smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.
“Yes!” Instantly, you crash into his arms. “Yes, yes, yesyes yes—” he has to cut you off with his lips, and you melt into kiss.
You pull away the second you hear the intro to your favorite song, 1 of 1, and look onto the cafe stage (yes, the cafe has a stage for Friday through Saturday night performances) to see Taemin beginning to sing and cover the other members parts.
You’re mind-blown. A part of you is still convinced that this is a dream, because how the fuck did Jaehyun get a man as busy as Lee Taemin to do this? You forgot to ask him who he works for, but do drug dealers have Lee Taemin money?
“How did you—”
“Shh,” Jaehyun pecks your lips, “Taemin’s singing.”
You roll your eyes, yet giggle. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jaehyun engulfs you in a warm, comfortable hug, “And only you.”
When he says it, you trust him. You believe him. Because the Jung Jaehyun you know and love today is a man of his word, and that means you get to love him with no fears, and no worries.
Love is a challenge. And in this moment and the next, it’s safe to say you’ve won.
843 notes · View notes
bakubunny · 14 days
Note
Ahhhhhh congrats on 2.5K!!! If I may be so bold…. Um um um…. maybe a little blueberry lemon pie for a chubby gal? With Shiggy or Dabi or Hawks? :3 AH this is such a fun menu <333
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okay okay. i put this one off until i had a minute because it was sent in a couple days past the deadline, but i can’t let a long time mutual go unanswered. <3 i hope this was worth the wait! thanks so much for being here, love!
tw: dark content, stalking, captive darling, dubcon/noncon
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name: shigaraki tomura
order: blueberry lemon pie
blueberry lemon: yandere!tomura is both a gamer and a recluse… an obsessive one. he met you online one day. your voice was so pretty, he couldn’t get it out of his head. he tried to act normal and cool when you wanted to be friends on discord, invited him to where you hang out with all your other in game friends. but the saccharine, smooth lilt of your voice stuck in the back of his mind for weeks on end. you maybe flirted with him a bit every now and then, or so he thought, but he wasn’t sure…. then one day, you posted a picture in one of the group chats. nothing special, just you with your dog. that’s when the claws of his obsession sunk in deep - he had to know who you were; your pretty, chubby cheeks made his skin itch and his stomach turn in a way he couldn’t ignore.
it didn’t take him long to find your address based on the background. took him only a few more weeks to craft a plan to make you all his own, his pretty little gamer girl stuck in his basement. he tracked you down, knocked on your door late one night, and for some stupid reason, you answered.
“hey, dollface. you look even prettier in real life,” tomura said with a sadistic grin.
that was six weeks ago, the day your fate was sealed by a man with cracked lips and a wild look in is eye. now tomura kept you bound in his room and naked when he was home. your hands stayed bound and your collar tied to his desk when your body wasn’t bound to his bed in all your teary eyed glory, begging to be let go. but you didn’t understand just yet that you were now his. his soft little doll, his muse, to do with as he pleased. he made you keep his cock warm during long sessions of gaming, dug his fingers into the plush of your thighs as stress relief no matter how sore your poor jaw or cunt was. he took out all his anger with his dick in your tight, plump ass whenever he rage quit. he fucked you every night until you couldn’t think, until you cried, watched in awe the way your cute tummy jiggled with every punishing thrust….
but tomura wasn’t all mean. some days, he clung to you. he gently sucked on and played with your tits if you’d let him, asking so timidly it was almost heartbreaking. he’d bury his face in your warm, pillowy flesh, aching just to feel your skin against his when his mind wouldn’t quiet down. he rocked his hips into yours slowly until there were tears in his eyes, waiting for the day his darling doll would love him back.
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astro-pioneer · 10 months
Note
hello!! can i pls request the sumeru men with a reader who's a confectioner? and like, they can make from cookies to cute bento cakes to super elaborate, detailed, huge cakes.
affectionate confectioner!
he thinks your job makes you even sweeter. 『wanderer, tighnari, cyno, kaveh, al-haitham』
wanderer!
get him out of the kitchen please i beg
he loves you, sure, but he loves inconveniencing you even more
scale? gone. any measuring tool? gone too
since he doesn't enjoy sweets all that much he won't show much interest in consuming most of what you make
seeing you design the cakes, though? amazed
if you somehow annoyed him that day and you're making something small (like cookies) he'd definitely try to mess up a batch just because
if it stressed you out or something he'd lowkey feel bad and "begrudgingly" help out
if you ever make him something that's not as sweet (or a dessert that's meant to be bitter) as your usuals he'd nag you for ages to make it for him
aka he does it whenever he's in your kitchen
can't complete any customer's orders with him around smh
tighnari!
your bento cakes are his favourites but he advertises everything you sell to anyone who shows interest
you gave him one that had cute mushrooms and aranara
wouldn't shut up about it and sometimes orders it whenever he stops by
most of the time he picks something up for collei because sweet girl deserves it
sometimes cyno too but most of the time he allows him to get it himself because he's tired of the jokes
but! whenever he does get something for himself he makes sure to brag to his rangers but in a passive way
he doesn't seem like the biggest sweets guy so other than the bento cake he'd most likely buy cookies once in a while
the last time he bought something for cyno was for his birthday
never again would he do that
collei and him wanted to leave the small hangout they planned because he wouldn't shut up
cyno!
he's your self-appointed taste tester and no you can't stop him
due to his position he sadly can't visit your shop as much as he wants but he makes sure to be there when you're trying something new
when you experimented with jam sandwich cookies he barged into tighnari's room with a container of them
and proceeded to say a horrible joke. and explained it. like always
"what did the blueberry say to the strawberry? 'i can't believe you got us into this jam!' this relates to these because-"
he repeated it at dinner (which included himself, tighnari, collei, and you) before doing three others about the same cookie
tighnari was debating on just foraging for dinner at this point but he knew he wouldn't be safe from the jokes
kaveh!
he still remembers the feeling of the general hunting him down to show him the combination you were nervous about and the jokes he had prepared
but due to his somewhat constant visits some of his coworkers started to check out your shop
he unknowingly became your walking advertisement as well. oh well
dude is all for your extravagant cakes
he breathes architecture and design so seeing the sketches for the client's cake got him like ⚆⚆ ⚆⚆ ⚆⚆
usually he doesn't get involved in your business because that's not his forte but just seeing the plans for an upcoming event had him begging for permission to help
but like how could you say no? one) he's one if not the best structural designer in sumeru and two) he's cute and you love him
turns out the cake was for the celebration of al-haitham's promotion to acting grand sage
biggest disappointment in his life but he got to spend time with you so who cares
but in terms of consumption he chooses more towards your fruit-orientated pastries
like you made this fruit tart special with fresh fruit on top and he bought basically all of them
the same thing happened with a pie you made
it got to the point where you had to decline him from buying any more for the day
al-haitham!
he takes high interest in any scones and simple cookies you make
also anything he can enjoy in the morning with his coffee
enjoys snacking on any extras you bring home for him while reading throughout the day
he doesn't mind the other things you make but he finds them more of a hassle to eat while passing the time so he usually avoids them
whenever he's craving something a little extra he might get a cupcake or bento cake and enjoy it in your shop
also gets a slice whenever he's looking over submitted applications for archived files
he either lures in or away business - it's a struggle for you
there's sometimes some akademiya nerds who wanna be closer figuratively to the scribe and buy a lot before scurrying away when he glances up
then there are people (kaveh) who see him in the corner and immediately leave
he got so annoyed with people (again, kaveh) continuously entering and leaving where it got to the point where he asked to move in the back
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mowu-moment · 2 months
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ranking food tokens by how much personally i want to eat them
- Throne of Eldraine -
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i have reason to distrust this meat pie thing, not only because of its wails of anguish but it also seems to have burst a bit in the oven. still not honestly opposed, at least the dishes are clean. 5/10.
how does one unpeel a curly banana? why are there sliced-open fruits on what appears to be a stone in the woods? where is the light coming from? i'm going to be taken by the fae and it's not even gonna taste too good while i'm at it, these things look dirty. but idk i don't mind someone else taking the wheel of my life rn. 2/10.
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again, concerns about the floor food, but at least it looks more like some deliverygirl got eaten by a wolf and dropped her basket than a trap. someone already took a bite, though, maybe i should leave it be. 4/10
i have been invited to the Goblin King's Feast and while i don't fully agree with his choices i will certainly partake. boar looks wonderful apart from the hair. 7/10
- Commander 2020 / Strixhaven Commander -
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i'm pretty sure cattails are poisonous to humans (not to mention the actual poisons in there) so i unfortunately can't oblige gyome's swamp soup. that crusty bread looks pretty nice though. i'll pick this thing apart like high school cafeteria lunch. 3/10.
- Modern Horizons 2 -
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i at least know who cooked this one, and i trust asmor a decent bit, but this is still food for demons, so maybe it's not too good for me. goddamn do i wanna know what it tastes like though. 4/10.
- Unfinity -
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i'm considering these two together. as a filthy american, i am allured by these fat-filled foods, but as a lad with a tiny stomach, i doubt i could eat enough to feel good about not wasting it. astrotorium's about excess, goddamn. the only funfair burger i've had was the best thing i had eaten in months, but it also made me ill the rest of the day. i really do want some infinity fries though, those look like the golden mean between a steak fry and a curly fry. 6/10.
- March of the Machine Commander -
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meanwhile this looks like a texture nightmare. like i respect it, i imagine it's filling and fulfilling, but i don't think i ever could eat more than a bite or two. bread looks a little worse than gyome's but only a little. 5/10.
- Lord of the Rings: Tales of Middle-Earth -
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my white ass loves a charcuterie board. and i'm not going to be intimidated out of it by not eating enough, since it's all in snack-sized bits already. definitely gonna overindulge this sucker. i'm nervous about some of those spreads though. 9/10.
this looks like i'm in a dream, is it actively cooking? or still hot? i can't identify what's in that pan anyway. i'm leaving it alone out of respect. wouldn't mind a drink though. 2/10.
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this is not food. for humans. 0/10.
- Wilds of Eldraine -
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this is a king's feast i am properly intimidated by. i'm more into it than the Goblin King's, particularly that triple-layer blueberry pie or whatever that is, but i'm going to have to be as polite as possible lest i get a face full of flaming beer. 8/10
i'll probably be eaten before this can eat me, and it barely looks like food, but at least i go down with sugar in the mouth. 1/10.
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ogh. that egg looks divine. the bread looks amazing, there's a full glass, i've got like beans or mermaid tears everywhere. we've even got seasonings back there. the best damn breakfast i'll ever have. 10/10.
i would still probably eat this over nothing. there's onion, at least. i will either be hexed or violently ill, but like i could at least get it down. and maybe the witchmother is testing my strength and she'll reward me after slurping an eyeball. a convenient lie to tell myself. 2/10.
- Doctor Who Commander -
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y'know, four, i think i would like a copyrighted candy. they look sad and british, which is on point. but like it's not actively killing me like half of these. i think anyway. i don't know doctor who. 6/10.
what is this? i have no idea. custard? raw batter? giant dunkaroo? is he dipping fishsticks? it doesn't look like it's done cooking, like do we need to put it in a fryer again? i'd say it's inedible but it's not poison stew so i have to be nice. 4/10.
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get AWAY from me. this is a PERSONAL vendetta. i would rather try to eat spiderwebs. plus he's already eaten half of it. -10/10.
- Fallout Commander -
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i can't be too mean since this is literally apocalypse food. i think i prefer this over poison stew? like i recognize it at least, even if it's foul and moldy. man has to eat something. 3/10
i'm not convinced there's actual soda in here. is this just a perspective shot or is this a giant prop soda? i don't like cola anyway. again, worth it in an apocalypse i suppose. 4/10
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this soda i trust even less. it glows? does this give me magic powers in the fallout world or does it just kill me slowly? i think it'll kill me slowly anyway. i need fluid to survive in apocalypseland but damn i hate for it to come to this. 2/10.
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belovedspector · 4 months
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Love at First Sight's for Suckers (At Least, It Used to Be)
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Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: Jake can’t help but notice you when you become a regular at his favorite diner.
Content: Fluff!
A/N: Title is from “I Never Planned on You” from Newsies. I’ve never written for Jake before, and I haven’t read the comics, so I don’t have much to go off of, but I figured I’d give it a shot. I hope I did okay! Enjoy! :)
Masterlist
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Jake Lockley knows his place. He’s the protector of the system, keeping Marc and Steven out of harm’s way and doing Khonshu’s dirty work. He doesn’t have time for “earthly pleasures,” as Khonshu had once put it. He doesn’t really have a life outside of protecting his alters and the travelers of the night, and he’s fine with that. He’s content to lurk in the shadows if it means Marc and Steven getting to live their best lives. He treasures what interaction he does get, when he’s driving his cab through the city or getting food late at night after a mission. He tries not to dwell on it, though; there’s no sense in mourning what he can’t have.
Jake notices everything. It’s his job, to always be on high-alert, even when he’s not the one fronting. So, when you start showing up at his favorite diner every Friday night like clockwork, he notices. He observes from afar. From that first time you walked in, the bell tinkling to announce your presence, he’d been…interested in you. He’s not sure why—it’s not like you pose a threat. You should fade into the background, just like everyone else.
But, you don’t.
Jake can’t help but take note of everything you do—the way you always say your “please”s and “thank you”s to the waitress, your soft laugh, your sweet smile, the ungodly amount of sugar you put in your coffee. He’s good at watching people; it’s part of his job, after all, so he’s able to absorb you and your habits without drawing suspicion from you or anyone else. Some might call it creepy, but Jake means no harm, and he can’t help his…infatuation with you. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him.
One night, he finds himself rambling as he drives around the city. He likes to talk out loud to himself in the safety of his cab; it gives him a chance to make sense of his thoughts, and it’s not like he has anyone else to share them with.
He starts off by talking himself through the details of his upcoming mission, but he soon finds his mind wandering to bright eyes and the scent of coffee. You.
“She’s really something, huh?” Jake says to himself. “I—I don’t know what it is about her. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“I think you humans call it a ‘crush.’” Khonshu suddenly appears hunched over in the back seat of Jake’s cab, and, if he was a less skilled driver, Jake absolutely would have crashed. As it is, he jumps almost imperceptibly in his seat, swerving the tiniest bit before regaining control of the vehicle.
“What?” Jake asks, not even sparing Khonshu a glance in the rear-view mirror. He’s used to the god’s antics by now.
“It appears you have a crush, Jake Lockley.”
“I don’t get crushes,” Jake protests. “Don’t have time for that shit.” He grips the steering wheel more tightly, the leather of his gloves straining against his knuckles.
“You’re right; you don’t have time,” Khonshu agrees, “so I suggest you nip this little problem in the bud, before it interferes with our work.”
“What, you want me to kill her?” he deadpans.
“No, nothing that extreme. I was going to suggest finding a new diner.”
“But I like that diner.”
“Then you’d best find a way to ignore the girl.”
With that, Khonshu disappears, and Jake mutters some choice words about the bird in the quiet of his car.
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It’s Friday night again. Jake sits alone at his usual booth—in the corner, with his back to the wall, so he can continually scan the entire diner for any threats. He alternates between sipping at his coffee and taking bites of his blueberry pie while scanning the newspaper.
The door opens, the bell ringing along with it, and Jake instinctively looks up.
It’s you.
Jake casts his eyes back down to the sports page. Khonshu had given him orders, and he intends to follow them.
His plan is going great. He’s not thinking about you, not even a little bit. But, shit, now he’s thinking about how he’s not thinking about you. Does that count as thinking about you?
Jake returns his coffee cup to the table with a little more force than necessary. He can feel a headache coming on.
Get it together, Lockley.
He looks up again to do another sweep of the interior, when he notices you’re not sitting in your usual spot. No, you’re…walking towards him. Surely, you’re just going to use the bathroom past his seat, right?
No such luck. You stop at his booth, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped in front of you.
Slowly, Jake moves his eyes from his newspaper and allows them to find yours. He’s never seen you up close before, and, God, you’re even more breathtaking when he can see the sparkle of your eyes and the way your lips curve upward into a soft smile.
“Um, hi,” you start, rocking a little on your feet. “Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you had a pen?”
Jake’s not very well-versed in pickup lines, but he’s pretty sure that can’t be one, right? He stares at you for a few beats, dumbfounded that you’re really speaking to him, before he pulls himself together.
He clears his throat and answers, “Uh, yes.” He reaches for the pen he always keeps in his jacket pocket and hands it to you.
He can’t help but notice the way your soft, warm fingers brush against his as the pen exchanges hands.
“Thank you!” you say, and you sound so sincere. “I just wanted to do today’s crossword. I’ll have this back before you know it.”
“Sure,” Jake forces out as you turn on your heel, back to what he’s begun thinking of as “your” booth.
He goes back to his own paper, definitely not thinking about you and your sweet smile and soft hands. It’s by complete coincidence that the next page he turns to has the daily crossword puzzle. He’s never been much for puzzles; that’s more Steven’s thing. Still, he takes a look.
Across 1. An infatuation with another person
It’s five letters. It can’t be anything other than “crush.” Jake groans. He scans the rest of the clues and notices they all seem to revolve around love. It dawns on him that Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. So, maybe the universe isn’t totally fucking with him, after all.
Jake has just about finished his pie when you come bounding over. You don’t wait for him to look up before you’re speaking.
“Thank you again!” you say, placing his pen back on the table near his coffee cup.
You’re already turning to go back to your booth, but Jake can’t just let you go. Screw Khonshu’s orders, he thinks.
“Wait,” he calls to you. He half-expects you to ignore him, to keep walking away, but you do turn around and take a step closer to him. Shit, now he needs to think of something to say to you. “That was, uh, fast,” he says lamely.
You beam at him, and it’s just about the prettiest thing Jake has ever seen. “Oh, yeah, I used to do them with my dad all the time, so I’ve gotten pretty good at them.” Your eyes drop to his newspaper that sits forgotten on the table, still open to the puzzle page. “Oh, do you do crosswords, too?” you ask, and you look like you’re genuinely interested in his answer.
“Oh, uh, not really.” Jake’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck nervously. Since when does he get nervous?
“Ah,” you say, nodding wisely, “you must be more of a Sudoku guy.”
“Uh, yeah.”
Great conversation skills, Lockley, he chastises himself.
“Well, thanks again for the pen. I hope I didn’t keep you from your Sudoku for too long…” You trail off, and Jake realizes, belatedly, that you’re waiting for him to offer his name.
“Jake,” he provides, putting on his most charming smile.
You smile right back, telling him your own name.
“Pretty name,” he remarks.
“Thanks, I got it for my birthday.”
Jake just stares at you for a moment before the joke lands, and then he’s laughing—like, genuinely laughing. He can’t remember the last time this has happened.
He notices you seem a little flustered. Maybe he laughed too hard? Maybe it wasn’t even a joke, and he just totally misread the situation? Maybe—
“Wow, I don’t think anyone’s ever actually laughed at that one,” you say with a slight chuckle of your own.
“I liked it,” Jake says honestly, as if you couldn’t already tell. Before he can second guess himself, he’s asking, “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Oh!” A look of surprise crosses your face. “Um, yeah, I’d like that. May I?” you ask, gesturing to the bench seat across from him.
“Please,” he says with a wave of his hand.
You slide into the booth as Jake gets the attention of the waitress and orders two coffees.
“Anything else?” the waitress asks, looking between the two of you expectantly, pen ready against her notepad.
“The pie’s really good,” Jake tells you. “My treat.”
You seem hesitant. “Oh, no, I couldn’t—”
“Come on,” he encourages with a smile.
“It is really good,” the waitress chimes in. 
“Well, okay,” you relent. “One slice of”—you look down at the table to scan the menu briefly—“chocolate cream pie, please.”
“Coming right up,” the waitress says with a smile and a click of her pen.
The time passes quickly, and the conversation between you and Jake flows as freely as the coffee. All that’s left of your pie is an empty plate with a few stray crumbs. You’re laughing at some comment Jake made when you glance down at your watch.
“Shit,” you say, your brows furrowing together in worry.
“Everything okay?” Jake asks.
“Yeah, I just didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” you say. An apologetic look crosses your face.
Jake checks his own watch. 2:53 am. He really should be getting back home, so Steven and Marc can wake up in the morning without suspecting anything.
“Can I drive you home?” he offers.
“Oh, that’s okay.” You shake your head. “I’m just a couple blocks over.”
“It’s late. I’d feel better if I knew you got home safely.”
“You’re sure it’s no trouble?” you ask hesitantly.
“Not at all,” he says with a smile. He’s smiled a lot tonight.
“Well, lead the way,” you say as you both exit the booth.
Jake throws a wad of cash on the table—more than enough to cover the coffee and pie—and walks you to his cab parked out front.
“You’re a cab driver?” you ask, sounding intrigued.
“I am,” Jake says as he opens the passenger’s door for you.
You pick up right where you left off at the diner, intermittently giving Jake directions to your apartment. He doesn’t want the night to end, but, soon enough, he’s parking in front of your building.
You start to unbuckle your seat belt but pause and turn to him. “Hey, can I borrow your pen again?”
“Oh, uh, sure,” Jake says, digging it out of his pocket and handing it over once more.
You take it with a smile and reach into your pants pocket. You pull out a crumpled napkin and quickly write something before handing both the napkin and pen to Jake.
Jake looks down to find your name and phone number written on the napkin.
You smile, looking a little shy. “In case you want to see me before next Friday,” you explain.
Jake doesn’t even think about the implication that you’ve noticed him at the diner every week, just like he’s noticed you. No, he’s too excited about the fact that you want to see him again, maybe even to go on a proper date. He hopes you can’t tell that he’s blushing in the dim glow of the cab’s ceiling light.
“Good night, Jake,” you say, finally unbuckling your seat belt and opening the door.
Normally, he’d do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for you, but he’d been too caught up in this surreal moment. Next time, he thinks, because there definitely will be a next time.
“Good night,” he echoes, still in a bit of a daze. He watches as you walk up the stairs to your apartment, making sure you’re safely inside before he pulls away from the curb.
Jake will deal with Khonshu’s wrath over disobeying orders. It will be more than worth it, if it means getting to see you again.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)
242 notes · View notes
twstgarden · 6 months
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❀ ❝ 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼 ❞
━ general lilia vanrouge x human! reincarnated! gn! reader (reader is not yuu.) ━ having a relatively shorter lifespan than the man you deem as your soulmate can be quite disheartening. meeting him once again in another lifetime gave you a sense of comfort and familiarity as if you knew who this man was. (f/n means first name)
cw: (including, but not limited to) death/graphic mentions of death, war themes, blood
requested by: anonymous <3 request type: oneshot requester's message: *slams doors open* requests are open?!? Waaaahhhhhhhahsjjssj I really enjoy your diasomnia works. Can I request a one shot with general lilia and human reader? Maybe a reunion or reincarnation trope? They fell in love and then meet again. Something fluffy or sweet? florist's note: hi there! i'm glad you enjoyed my diasomnia works <3 i'm not sure if this is fluff enough, but thank you for the request, little one.
this work contains spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.
do not steal or translate without my permission.
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less than 100 years, more or less. that is the average lifespan of a human being. general lilia knew that all too well, and he knew what he was getting into when he saw this innocent maiden living by herself in the woods, or did he?
he had no intentions of falling in love. he finds it a waste of time. he has his duties to focus on, and being in the palace makes him feel as if he is in greater danger than when he is on the battlefield, due to a certain princess he grew up with.
you, on the other hand, completely minded your own business in your own little cottage, making pies and other baked goods every now and then, taking care of your flowers and vegetable garden, singing songs as you do your chores, and so on. you were living a simple life and you loved it.
never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd cross paths with the well-known fae general of briar valley. your first interaction was not exactly all that great, considering his icy cold glares and stern voice as he thought you were part of the silver owls.
of course, he did not believe you at first, until he saw your cottage and all your belongings - just a bunch of basic daily use materials and no sign of weapons that can be used for war. the general continued investigating, wanting to find even one sign that you were a part of the other side so he could eradicate you.
meanwhile, his comrades were feasting on the blueberry pie you offered to them. he was in utter disbelief, how could the soldiers he trained be so careless as to eat whatever was offered to them? what if it was a trap?
you merely smiled at the dark faerie soldiers as you sliced the pie and handed it to the others. you had enough to feed a small group, so you hoped they could share it with one another. you then turned to look at the general, "would you like some?"
how absurd. how could you offer him food with that sweet smile on his face when he clearly hated your kind? he did not know if you were deceiving him or you were actually being genuine.
he had never encountered a human so... pure and humble.
and since then, he occasionally paid you a visit to 'make sure you aren't plotting anything', but you knew he just wanted to check on you.
"how is it that you're so nice?"
that question made you look up at him while you were watering your plants. you paused a little, thinking about how you would respond to him without sounding awkward before smiling, "i... guess i was raised to be this way?"
"hm... where are your parents?" asked the general as he raised a brow at you, his gaze shifting from the delicate tulips being watered to your face as your eyelashes batted with every blink, how your lips were in a small smile, and your cheeks dusted pink.
you let out a soft sigh through your lips before responding, "they've long passed away from an illness, so i've been alone for a long time now." your sweet smile still remained as you spoke to him, and it was starting to make him feel comfortable around you.
everything was going smoothly between you and the general. you could even say your relationship was flourishing, from strangers to friends, at least you think so.
of course, all good things come to an end. unfortunately, one of the silver owls' soldiers stumbled upon you and the general having a nice chat by your garden, and thinking you were an ally and betrayed humankind, you became their target.
the first few days of spending your time in the cottage with the feeling of being watched was tolerable so far. the general had noticed it as well during one of his visits, and out of concern, he sternly said, "you should not stay here any longer. it's dangerous."
"i'll be fine, general. i've lived here for years," you replied in a gentle tone, wanting to reassure him that everything would be fine. he stayed silent for a moment as he scanned the surroundings, "traces of humans are evident around here. you could be in danger. don't be stubborn and listen to me."
"...i know, but... if i leave, how will we see each other again?" you asked softly, making him stay silent for a moment as he did not realise he was the reason why you were so adamant about staying in your home.
"i like your presence, general. i look forward to seeing you every day, to see you visit me alone or with your soldiers, saying that you are merely passing by when i know you really are checking on me..." you added, "and every day, we just get closer to one another... it's hard for me not to want you around me..."
he let out a sigh as he crossed his arms, "i don't want you to put yourself in danger because of me." you frowned at his words and he saw how it made you sad, making him step closer towards you as he placed a hand on your cheek, "wherever you go, i'll find you... so please, stay elsewhere and be safe..."
you noticed he took out his gloves when he touched your cheek. his rough yet gentle hand caressed your face as he said those words, looking at you with those usual cold eyes that now had a tinge of worry and affection. you gave him a small sad smile before deciding to embrace him.
your arms wrapped around his figure as you buried your head on his chest, feeling the cold armour, and yet the warmth of his body still managed to comfort you. he held you in an embrace as well, his hands situated on your lower back and your hair.
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silence.
an eerie silence engulfed your living room, a contrast to all the noise that occurred earlier during the ambush of the silver owls in your area. suddenly, rushing footsteps could be heard approaching your cottage before your door was slammed open.
the general stood there in shock before rushing to your weakened body on the floor lying in a pool of blood. you were still a little conscious, but you started to feel it slipping away as you looked up at him
"f/n?"
as he knelt down on the floor, your blood staining his armour and clothing, he pulled you up to his lap before calling for the other soldiers to make sure your wounds were patched up, but before he could do so, you placed your bloody hand on his cheek.
"it's too late, lilia..."
hearing his name on your lips, rather than addressing him as general, made him look at you once more as he placed his hand on top of yours that rested on his cheek. "too late? no, we can still stop the bleeding..."
you gave him a weak smile. how is it that even on the verge of dying, that beautiful twinkle in your eyes that he grew to love and that sweet smile he found comfort in still remained? it was tearing him apart on the inside at the thought of losing you so quickly.
"i love you."
you said those words in a whisper as you still held his cheek, tears brimming your eyes as you smiled at him and caressed his lips with your thumb, "please don't do anything rash for my sake... i only want you to live in peace..."
the light in your eyes then went dim as you fell limp in his arms. that was the same day he lost all his hopes and dreams as he held you close to his chest and embraced your lifeless figure.
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it has been a few years since you were gone - honestly, it was about 20 years and normally, such time would be very short to long-lived species like faeries. however, to lilia, it felt like you were gone for far too long already.
"general, what will we do about the kids?" asked baul, his comrade, as he eyed the three students - four if you count the cat-like creature with them - before him.
lilia eyed the people before him. one addressed him as his father, and the other addressed him like he was his mentor. the other seemed panicked to be in the situation, while the cat-like creature was addressing him as if they were best buds.
just where did these people come from?
the general was about to speak when silver's eyes went to a cloaked figure nearby. lilia raised a brow at his distraction and turned to look at what he was looking at.
hidden in one of the trees is a figure cloaked in black with their face covered in a mask. they immediately realised they were spotted, and they were about to leave until lilia beat them to it. he immediately landed on the tree branch before them as he tried to get them down for a battle.
unsheathing their sword, they immediately landed on the ground and fought with him until his blade knocked off their mask and he managed to pin them down to the ground. his famed lithic blade pointed at their throat as he spoke, "are you spying on us?"
he then froze as he took a good look at their face. they looked exactly like the person he cherished. the same eyes, the same lips, the same cheeks, everything.
they looked exactly like you, the person he loved.
"who are you...?" asked lilia. there was no way this was you, you died that day and he was there when the light left your eyes. still, the possibility of you being a reincarnation crossed his mind.
surely, there was no such thing? but at the same time, he had a small inkling of hope that it might be that way.
"no one important," replied the unknown assailant as they used this distraction to land a blow on lilia, making him dodge the attack immediately as he got off them. "i am only tasked to spy on you," replied the assailant as they glared at the general.
however, deep down, they had a lingering thought, 'why does he feel so... familiar? almost as if i don't want to attack him...'
"so you're one of them," spoke the general with venom laced in his tone. he was about to land an attack on them until silver got in between them both, making lilia look at him as if he was about to scold the guy.
"mom/dad?"
'that can't be... but they told me they work as a director... am i seeing their past life before the current one in nrc, then?' wondered silver as he was surprised to see their human parental figure in this lifetime that they jumped into.
that parental name made the assailant and lilia freeze. silver addressed lilia as his father, and now they are addressing this assailant as if they were his parent too?
"what?" questioned the assailant, "i don't have a kid... why are you calling me that?"
silver's eyes were wide. he could not believe that he saw his father in his younger days, now he gets to see his other parental figure too, and this could be how he witnesses their love story. well, at least for the previous lifetime.
"r-right, sorry, um..." trailed silver as he tried not to take the second rejection to heart. sebek, the other student with him, seemed to have recognised them too, but he knew they would have not known who they were, just like lilia and his grandfather.
"just who are you, anyway?" questioned the general as he pointed his blade at the assailant. they let out a sigh and placed a hand on their hip as they replied, "i'm f/n l/n... why do you look familiar...? have i seen you before?"
lilia stayed silent for a moment. could it be? did his special person really reincarnate and reunite with him? what are the odds that they end up being a member of the silver owls this time?
"you..." trailed lilia, making f/n tilt their head a little as they wondered what he had to say. while waiting for his reply, their eyes wandered to his lips, almost as if they knew exactly how it felt to have them on theirs.
no way. there is no way they are entertaining such thoughts.
there was one more thing lilia could do to confirm that it really was you. however, he had doubts about whether it was effective or not. they may have been a reincarnation, but it's not like they retain all of their memories from the past life, right?
of course, not, but the feeling of comfort and familiarity is always there. the memories may not have been there, but the emotions were.
and right now, lilia is being haunted by the same feelings he felt towards you when you were alive. the same sense of love, peace, affection, and comfort resurfaced the more he stayed in this assailant's presence.
he tried to push them away. he really did, but it always resurfaced the more he spent his expedition with the assailant by his side. they had a change of heart, deciding to aid him instead and ultimately betraying the people they worked for.
hearing the truth from lilia's lips made them realise they were on the wrong side of the story. the land of briar's people were the victims here and not the people f/n is currently working for. the land of briar's resources belongs to them - the natives of the land, the fae folk - and they knew just as well that no human has the right to steal and claim the land or resources as theirs.
when f/n accepted to aid them in their expedition, lilia felt as if he was witnessing the same kindness you showed when you were alive. the more time he spends with them, the more he sees similarities between the past 'you' and the current 'you' that he is seeing.
currently, he was seated beside f/n on the campsite that they chose for tonight. the fire crackled in the centre as he sat on the log, toasting a lizard he caught nearby. it was silent for a moment until they looked at the general, "...i know i said this before, but you really feel familiar... as if i met you or i've known you before..."
lilia stayed silent for a moment before twirling the lizard on the stick a little bit, toasting it on the fireplace as silver, sebek, yuu, and grim were thinking of making the meals instead.
and so they did. they offered to cook, leaving lilia with f/n for a while. that was when he looked at the spitting image of his past beloved, "...you remind me of someone i knew back then."
f/n tilted their head a little, "hm? who is it? where are they now?" lilia did not know how to answer that as he realised he was coping with the grief that he set aside the entire time, "...someone i loved. they're gone now, for the past 20 years."
"20...? that's a coincidence. i'm that old too," spoke f/n as they looked at lilia with a curious gaze. lilia stayed silent for a bit, thoughts swirling in his head as he wondered if it was a coincidence. you died twenty years ago, and this person before him is 20 years old. were you reborn?
this is purely just a coincidence, right?
setting that thought aside, he proceeds to have a conversation with f/n. a few days have passed and they are getting closer to the silver owls headquarters. once they were just a few more miles away, night has come, setting them up a camp to rest before continuing the expedition.
everything was like usual. silver and sebek offered to make dinner once more, while yuu and grim helped around. the other soldiers were patching up wounds and resting by the fireplace as they chatted with their other comrades. baul and lilia were having a conversation, perhaps discussing the course of action while waiting for the meal.
and f/n, on the other hand, remained seated on a log near their tent. their gaze never peeled away from lilia as they desperately tried to think about certain thoughts, such as...
how did they know what his favourite meal was? he never told them about it nor did they have a conversation regarding those topics once.
how did they know which pie flavour he liked? never once did f/n attempt to make pies in this lifetime, and yet they knew so much about lilia's preference.
why did they have thoughts about missing the way he looks when he smiles fondly? it's not like they have seen him smile throughout the expedition, and fondly at that.
but one thought that bothered them the most was... why did they feel as if they were falling in love all over again?
all that thinking led to lilia approaching them after his conversation with baul ended. he wondered why f/n looked so deep in thought while staring at him earlier, seeing as the gaze was obvious. he then knelt down and looked at them, "what's wrong?"
f/n immediately snapped out of their thoughts before shaking their head, "no, it's nothing... i was just thinking about a few things..."
lilia hummed in response, but he did not believe them when they said it was nothing. he then sat beside them, staying silent for a bit before letting out a tired sigh.
"...don't die again, okay?"
f/n raised a brow at his words. again? what did he mean by again? they looked at lilia once more and spoke, "what do you mean by 'again'...?"
the general then eyed f/n as he replied, "wherever you go, i'll find you... remember?" and just like magic, those words hit f/n like a truck. vague memories started flooding their mind as they pictured scenes of being in a cottage and holding lilia's hand, baking pies and handing them out to the soldiers that were currently accompanying them, or how lilia would always drop by for a visit to check in on them.
lilia saw how f/n seemed spooked, and he was about to speak until they pulled him in for a tight hug, wrapping their arms around him as they held him close. no words were exchanged for a moment, but lilia felt the warmth he felt back then.
silver and sebek were watching them while waiting for the pot to boil, and though they had not said anything, they smiled at one another before looking back at the younger versions of f/n and lilia.
after the hug, lilia cupped f/n's cheeks with a small yet gentle smile, "you're still as beautiful as i remember." they let out a soft chuckle as they remained their arms around his torso, "i missed you..."
his gentle smile grew a little more as he placed a kiss on their forehead, "don't leave me this time..."
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© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
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lightwing-s · 6 months
Note
Jason bringing Alfred blueberry muffin from reader which she has a sticky note writing: "To my favourite mentor in this world! Thanks for being with me every time Berry Much!" (Alfred exchange contact with reader after having brunch with them when he went to visit Jason but caught reader's the only one in home instead)
After meeting Alfred for the first time, and then going out with him for most of that weekend (with and mostly by yourselves) you knew you had found a friend and mentor for life. You shared recipes and stories about Jason, stories about your own lives and just enjoyed the time spent together. He made you realize that the relationship between Jason and his family was far from great, but that it was slowly healing, and, according to Alfred, much thanks to you.
When he had left back to Gotham, you felt a sense of emptiness from “losing” someone you shared so much in common with, but soon you received a message from the man himself, informing you he had gotten your number from Jason and, alongside a link to a delicious apple pie recipe, the cutest baby photo of your boyfriend.
Jason was loving this. Two of his favorite people getting along so well and making him feel like there was still a chance he could get along with his family, even though he wasn’t ready to share you with the others yet.
Going back home after a long while, the small box of muffins you had baked yourself was still, somehow, a bit warm, and Alfred’s excitement might have caught him off guard for a moment, before he let his smile spread out.
“I sent this recipe to Miss Y/n a while ago, telling I couldn’t find the perfect blueberries around.” he told Jason, who could swear he was seeing the man giving little jumps of excitement. “I guess she must have found some.”
He had to admit that the clingy side of him felt a bit jealous of all the attention you were giving Alfred instead of him, but he could take many more pros out of this relationship (including a plethora of foods you’d cook under Alfred’s assistance).
“You brought us muffins.” said Damian in a tone he didn’t know was a statement or a question, as he entered the large kitchen.
“I brought Alfred muffins.” Jason replied, taking the box away from the youngest’s reach. “Get away from them, little goblin.”
“Master Jason.” he heard Alfred scold him from somewhere within the room.
“You ain’t getting any.” he whispered, just for Damian to hear.
“We’ll see.” he replied, eyeing his brother as if challenging him for a fight and then proceeding to leave the room. “I’ll just order from wherever you got it from, anyway.”
Holding down a smirk, Jason proudly replied to himself. “In your dreams.”
.
a/n: i lost the original ask for this (tumblr???) and had to send it in again because i had it save somewhere else. if ir wasn't sent anonymously at first, I'm so sorry to the sender T.T
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soft-pine · 9 months
Text
there’s a bug like an angel stuck to the bottom of my glass
some blueberry pie life: chapter 20
title from Bug Like an Angel by Mitski
crowley: "what are you talking about?" / cas: "um, preferring insects to angels, i guess" - 7.23
no real notes for this chapter except that it was wild to have just finished it with all the imagery therin and then see Mitski post that song!
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darlingkirstein · 2 months
Note
Hi, Mar! I saw you're taking prompts. What about bored 1950s housewife Mikasa and Milkman Eren? 🫢
Housewife Mikasa/Milkman Eren (1950s AU)
wc: 4.8k / nsfw / cheating thank you for the request! hope you enjoy :) i’ll probably be posting this to ao3 as well!
Her husband kisses her cheek — a kiss lacking any desired affection, more a routine obligation than anything else — as she hovers over the countertop, flattening the pie crust over the pan. She’s been requested (instructed, more precisely) to make one of her “famous” blueberry pies for a little gathering between the neighbors. They’re her husband’s favorite — and he jokes that he’ll be a real wet rag if he doesn’t get a taste.
“Off to work,” He grumbles, his glance lazily lingering on her fingers as she works the crust around the delicate edges. “Smells good.���
There’s no smell. I haven’t even started baking.
Still, Mikasa forces a pleasant smile — flashing her prettiest doe eyes up at him.
“Just for you, dear. It’ll be ready for the party.”
“You’re a doll.” He pats her waist, simpering. For a moment, there’s a return to the man Mikasa married years ago — the loving, fun, sweet man who courted her with trips to the cinema.
Mikasa allows foolish hope get the best of her.
“If it makes you happy—”
He squashes her hankering before it can properly take root. “You know what would make me happy? If you wore that gorgeous red dress. You know, that one that I can’t get enough of?”
It takes great strain to prevent her smile from floundering. She doesn’t want to displease him — even if he hardly sees her as anything more valuable than a manifestation of his most casually-depraved fantasies. A piece of meat, worth nothing more than to gawk at instead of compliment, fondle instead of pleasure.
Mikasa nods. “I’ll do that. Run along now.”
He’s out the door quick. Across the street, the neighbor’s yappy little mutt barks up a storm; children laugh as they play games. The summer heat provides such a wonderful atmosphere for frivolity, good restful fun, but none of that luxury is afforded to Mikasa. She knows she’ll spend her day tending to the chores. Baking, so much baking — and dusting every last crevice in their home. It’ll need to be spotless for the party. All the other wives judge her handiwork, Mikasa knows this, even if they’re too gentle to tell. They’ll judge her cooking, too. Comparing recipes and weighing the benefit of certain seasonings is far more competitive than she’d like it to be.
She gets to work. Toiling and toiling. The minutes drain quickly, never enough time in the day to accomplish everything she wishes. With one task completed, Mikasa remembers three more to take its place — an endless, most tedious cycle.
The days bleed together. Chores, making meals, and dull conversations with her husband — nothing to set them apart, nothing to deem it a life worth living for the decades to come. As she cleans, she wonders if things will ever go back to the way they were before — or if some miracle can swoop in to offer a fresh new existence.
A knock on the door interrupts her dusting.
She’s happy for any moment of respite. Opening the door, Mikasa is greeted by a handsome man — a very handsome man, indeed — who holds a basket filled with jars of fresh milk. He’s new; their precious milkman was a crotchety middle-aged gentleman who— well, wasn’t much of a gentleman, lacking any way with pleasantries.
This one’s much easier on the eyes.
He took off his hat and tipped it her direction. “Morning, miss. I’ve got a delivery for you.”
Mikasa notices his smile first, his pretty teeth — but it’s impossible to ignore the rest of him, hair so reminiscent of James Dean, an actor she harbors private affections for, hidden from her husband. Under the sunlight, the green in his eyes truly shimmers. He looks like something right out of a Vogue cover — and Mikasa’s smitten. Somehow, this man manages to make the milkman uniform look dignified, alluring even.
She flattens her dress, embarrassed by the flour stains coating the front and all the wrinkles ruining the elegance of the fabric.
“Good morning.” The beam on her lips is uncontrollable; she can’t remember the last time her husband made her smile like this. “I very much appreciate you, sir. You’re kind to knock.”
“This hot sun could spoil the milk.” His eyes find the stains on her dress, as she fears. “You look like a busy lady. I sure am sorry if I’m intruding.”
She steps outside, not thinking clearly. “No, no! You haven’t done a thing. It’s quite nice to have a visitor. It gets lonely around here sometimes.”
He grins. Mikasa tucks her hands behind her back, trying to conceal her wedding ring.
“Lonely? Don’t you have a husband, ma’am?”
She blushes. Caught. Mikasa’s heart beats faster than she’d like — full of shame. What would the other wives think if they saw her? The last thing she needs is to be called filthy names, accused of terrible, terrible crimes. That doesn’t stop her from swooning as the milkman smiles.
“Ah— I do. He just works so long. I have the house all to myself. The record player’s dull company.”
“No children?”
Mikasa shakes her head — another point of shame. All the other women already started their families; some had another child on the way. Her husband showed little interest in love-making. Whenever he returned home from work, he complained about being too tired — only seeking a warm meal in his belly and a funny show on the television to fall asleep to. When the fancy did strike him, it was a quick affair, far more beneficial for his pleasure than hers — almost animalistic. He whispers no tender phrases nor any amorous praises into her ear when he’s inside her — only hardened grunts, none too appealing for Mikasa.
“No, sir. Just the two of us here.”
Just as he opens his mouth to answer, the oven inside alerts her to the pie finishing its baking. Her head swings in the sound’s direction — dreading the result the noise might have on the pleasant conversation being shared.
“That’s my pie. I better check on it.”
He unsheathes a jar from the basket and presents it to her. “Well, you’ll see me again tomorrow, ma’am. Could you save me a slice of that pie?”
Mikasa’s fingers wrap around the jar, though her eyes don’t stray from his. She smiles her prettiest smile — this one authentic, nothing forced about it in the slightest — and nods. If her mornings consisted of this man at her doorstep, that’s a routine she favors getting acclimated to.
“Are you sure you don’t want something fresh?”
“No, ma’am. Wouldn’t want to impose.”
Hugging the jar to her chest, Mikasa flushes. She wonders how obvious the scarlet appears across her cheeks. “You’re a rather thoughtful man.”
“Well, ma’am — forgive me for saying this, but you’re a rather pretty lady. My momma taught me that pretty ladies deserve good manners.”
Mikasa has to drag her gaze away, turning her face to conceal the enjoyment in her features. Her stomach twists into little tangles; this is what she’s been missing ever since getting married. How long has it been since her husband made her feel like a woman worthy of love, worthy of some grandiose affection? Far too long, those fleeting moments all but forgotten. Mikasa toys with the chance, whatever minuscule chance exists, that the gorgeous milkman can grant her the attention she yearns to so richly acquire.
“You’re a handsome man yourself.” She cannot — doesn’t want to — control her words, forbidden and sinful as they are. A quick glance informs her he’s a bachelor, no ring wrapped around his finger, no woman waiting for him back home.
For a moment, Mikasa thinks something might happen, but the man only accepts her compliment with a fond twitch of a grin.
“I best be off to the next house. You take care, ma’am. Don’t work yourself too hard, now.”
Too flustered to conjure a proper response, all Mikasa manages is a little wave of her fingers before he’s heading down the driveway.
One thing comes to her, however.
She calls after him. “Mister! What’s your name?”
He turns, adjusting his hat back atop his hair. “Eren. Do I get the treat of knowing yours?”
“Mikasa.” She gives it up fervently, not-so-secretly yearning to hear her name from his lips.
“You’ve got a gorgeous name, miss. Seems everything about you is something special.”
He’s back on his merry way in a flash, off to deliver milk to the Thompsons. Eren, she repeats to herself over and over. Already, Mikasa counts down to the following day — when she’ll get the satisfaction of watching him sample her pie.
As routine demands, Eren returns to Mikasa’s house right on schedule the day after.
He raps on her door and waits patiently — that patience swiftly rewarded with the sight of Mikasa, even more beautiful than yesterday. Her hair, curled above her shoulders, frames her lovely face charmingly. The red lipstick coating her mouth draws Eren in without hesitation. Today, no flour coats her clothes — her chosen dress, spotless and practically wrinkle-free, gives her such a delightful appearance. Eren grins.
“You look like you’re in good spirits today.”
“Much better,” she admits. “My husband phoned me just now. He’ll be staying late at the office.”
One eyebrow cocks. “That’s why you’re happy?”
“Oh, no — I wouldn’t be a very good wife if I didn’t like having my husband around, would I?”
Eren stifles a grin — clever, clever girl. He takes a step closer to the door, closer to Mikasa.
“I think any man could count himself lucky to have someone like you for a wife, Mikasa.”
Watching her attempt to hide the thrill his words provided her gives Eren an equal thrill of his own — he chides himself for not taking this job sooner, for missing out on the gem of Mikasa’s flirtatious gazes for months and months.
“I saved you some pie, like you asked.” She pauses, looking back. Eren’s heart quickens, his expectations growing. “Would you like to come inside for a sample? I’d cherish your opinion.”
“It wouldn’t be very polite of me to refuse a girl’s invitation, don’t you think? I’ll happily get a taste.”
Already, Eren’s favorite part of Mikasa is how easily she flusters, her pale skin revealing all too simply her internal feelings so poorly hidden. His words, so intentionally veering toward something less-then-chaste, strike her deep — Eren watches Mikasa fidget with her fingers before guiding him inside their home — another man’s home.
“Here.” She gestures to the kitchen island, to a slice of pie and a fork to accompany it. “I made a plate just for you — hid it from my husband.”
The milk deliveries for the day are abandoned beside just inside the home’s entrance — he hopes nobody complains of his tardiness, but more pressing matters require his attention. Offered a seat at the island, Eren takes it gladly.
“This is very generous of you, Mikasa. Are you such an angel to every stranger at your door?”
“No,” she tells him, fetching a new milk jar from his basket and unstoppering it to fill a glass for him. “Just the ones I like. The handsome ones that say all the sweetest things to me.”
Grinning, Eren severs a tiny piece from the pie and pops it in his mouth — instantly hit with the blueberry flavor and the savory crust. Mikasa, half distracted as she wipes away some crumbs from the countertops, glances back.
“Well? Do you like it? I tried something different with the filling this time. Do you think it’s okay?”
He swallows, instantly returning for another bite.
“It’s perfect, Mikasa. You’re inhuman.”
“Inhuman? Is that a compliment?”
“I mean you’re too good to explain. It’s not everyday you meet a knockout girl who knows her way around a man’s appetites.”
She set aside her cleaning cloth. Returning to Eren’s proximity, her smile gives hints into a more playful side — blossoming from the adorable shyness permeating her actions during their monumental introduction.
“Do I know your appetites, sir?”
Her innocence entices him, his heart fluttering. Does she realize how beautiful she looks when her eyes are all beady and curious, watching their subject with a gaze imbedded with coquetry.
Suddenly, he’s the one who’s flustered.
“I certainly think you might.”
Mikasa comes closer — taking a seat at the island, resting against the counter. Eren suspects she doesn’t get much time for leisure like this — his mother, back in his youth, spent so much time in the kitchen her fingers were rubbed raw, not a life befitting a beautiful woman like Mikasa.
She smiles; her voice softens.
“Maybe tomorrow I can give you a whole pie.”
Sticking his fork into the filling, Eren bites his bottom lip, suppressing a smirk.
“That’s too much to ask for.”
“Oh, it’s not too bad.” Mikasa has mastered the art of looking coy, yet poised. “Besides, who else will make you a pie? You’re not married.”
The way she says it sounds like a challenge.
“I suppose you’re right. I’ve been missing out.”
She laughs, and it’s not the same rehearsed laughter he hears from all his friend’s wives, the one out on for show — it’s a real laugh, free of discipline and regulation, all free-flowing.
“So — why aren’t you married?”
Eren sighs and scoops more pie into his mouth, indulging in its sublime sweetness.
“All the pretty girls have husbands already. That, or they don’t fancy marrying the milkman.”
Mikasa looks back to the counter, her fingers coming to her teeth, nails bitten. For a moment, Eren worries he’s upset her — but he sees her stifling more laughter, too amused for her own good. Sideways glances come his way; she reminds him of the gals back in high school, waiting to be asked for the prom.
“Tell me about your husband,” he continues.
She looks at him, confused. “Why?”
“Well, you don’t seem too happy with him.” The image of her hiding her ring hasn’t left Eren — he’s not nearly as ashamed as he probably should be when he hopes to win her over, his gorgeous client in the gorgeous dress, with the lovely laugh.
“He’s not much of a romantic anymore. He likes my cooking and my outfits, but that feels like all I’m good for these days. That, and—”
She cuts herself off, blushing hard.
“And?”
“Nothing I should say out loud.”
Mikasa’s little more than a stranger, but Eren’s so drawn to her, drawn to everything about her. She’s the best-looking woman this side of the Equator, with a honeyed smile just as saccharine as her personality. Her husband, he attests, is the biggest fool on either side of the Equator.
“He really oughta treat you better.”
Something shifts in her gaze, Eren sees it. Mikasa leans closer, grabbing his wrist. There’s a desperation present in her eyes — one he surmises has been festering for quite some time. Is he the first man to pay her a compliment?
When she speaks again, it’s hushed, like she’s afraid of any eavesdroppers — spies for her husband, maybe. “How would you treat me?”
Eren flushes, swallowing hard. He looks into those eyes, those pleading pupils — and cups her cheek, thumbs rubbing over her skin.
He can’t properly comprehend what he’s doing. Her wedding ring tickles his wrist, the metal so cold against his skin, but her skin feels so warm, warm enough to tempt him further. Grinning, Eren’s face inches closer to hers, close enough to smell the perfume clinging to her neck.
“Right, Mikasa. I’d treat you right.”
Mikasa swallows. Butterflies dance around in her stomach, fighting for a way out. It’s wrong, she tries to convince herself, but the words feel like such a blatant lie — how could something wrong feel so painfully good, so inexplicably wanted?
His touch feels damn near electric. “You would?”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to show you?”
Mikasa’s chest clenches, but it’s a nice clench — mostly. She knows there’s no turning back after this, but by God’s glory, she needs it, needs Eren. Her lips ache in anticipation, watching his hover before her face, patiently stalling to latch on.
She nods, holding his free hand tight. “Yes, sir— I mean— I’d like that very much, Eren.”
Eren smiles. With his fingers, he draws her face closer until their mouths meet. His kiss isn’t aggressive — it’s slow and measured, so patient. Mikasa fights the urge to weep; she can’t remember the last time her husband kissed her like this, kissed her like he truly loved her. Within her chest, her heart runs at an uncontrollable pace, threatening to leap right out.
Mikasa tries to control her kiss — the last thing she wants is to scare him off by being overzealous, too opportunistic with his affections. It’s difficult — each second with his mouth on hers pumps such good feelings through her body, leaving her damn near drunk on the impact.
She tastes the pie on his lips — her pie. Somehow, that makes Mikasa even giddier. She vows to make him a hundred pies if he’ll reward each slice with kisses like this one.
Mikasa feels the wetness building between her thighs — ending the total drought she’s endured under her husband’s dominion. It’s a girlish feeling, being so besotted with a handsome, handsome man again. It should cause her shame, Mikasa knows, but it doesn’t, not in the slightest. The only shame surrounding her is the shame that she hasn’t sought this out sooner.
None of the neighbors had husbands nearly as gorgeous as Eren. Her husband, even in his best days, couldn’t hold a candle to him.
“My husband— He’ll be gone for a while,” Mikasa whines between kisses. “Will you stay with me?”
Eren’s grip on her face tightens. He feels his warm exhales against her mouth, eyes fixated on the way he smirks like he’s won a lottery ticket.
“As long as you’d like, miss.”
Mikasa wants his body closer, wants more of his warmth, too spoiled to accept it only against her tongue. She takes his mouth again, claiming it in another enthusiastic kiss — but her tempted hands wander south, playing with the hem of her dress’ skirt, tugging it up her thighs.
“Touch me,” Mikasa pleads. “Please, mister.”
He smiles against her kiss. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll beg you if I must. Oh, touch me.”
His palm finds a place on her thigh, fingers locked around, pressing into her soft flesh. “Sweetheart,” Eren calls her, and oh, how she swoons. “You don’t have to beg me for nothing. Let me help.”
Eren’s fingers hide underneath her dress and ever swiftly find the source of her ache, slipping inside. Mikasa’s body recoils — overwhelmed by little more than one tender touch — and her fingers wrap around his wrist to keep him lodged there.
His mouth finds her neck. It’s been so long since Mikasa’s received any attention on her neck.
“There, oh, right there,” she moans, eyes squeezing shut. Eren rubs her slowly — and she’s left guessing whether he does it to tease her or because he’s such a gentleman.
He falls silent, so focused on pleasuring her. Deft fingers make a bigger mess of her wetness, drenching his fingertips in her sweet liquid, while his lips threaten tender bruises against her skin.
“Be careful,” Mikasa whispers, smiling. “My husband might see— he’ll get suspicious.”
Eren grins; attentive sucks become light kiss against her throat. “Maybe he should, Mikasa — maybe he’ll learn his lesson and treat you right.”
She shakes her head. “He’s never been this good to me. Never. Oh, don’t stop — please, don’t.”
Never straying from his task, Eren teases her sex for as long as he can. His mouth switches between her sensitive, markable flesh and her soft, welcoming lips, but his fingers never leave her cunt — far too absorbed in their mission to even think about quitting. Mikasa tries to remember a past memory where she felt this good, this tended to, but no memory comes.
Dizzy, intoxicated by his touch, she gets greedy.
“The bedroom— let’s go there, Eren. Please?”
“Your room?” Eren stills his fingers. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking, miss?”
Any prior embarrassment she may have felt making this request vanished long ago — unbridled by shame, too bloated with unquenchable lust, Mikasa is breathless.
“Make love to me. I miss it, I miss it so much. Make love to me, sir. Remind me what it’s like.”
His hand falls away from her cunt; whatever momentary emptiness that triggers is forgotten when Eren lifts her from her chair and asks for guidance in finding the master bedroom.
Inside, Eren rests her atop her sheets. Her legs spread naturally for him, dress skirt falling without struggle, inviting him in for a taste. She looks to her left — on the bedside table, their wedding photograph greets her. Mikasa gets an unwomanly glee out of her husband having premium seating to see another man do his job.
She watches Eren smile like a kid in a candy shop — not the leer he husband throws her way when he’s finally in the mood to get relief, but a grin of determination, determination to make her happy.
He pushes her dress further up her body, far enough for him to lower his mouth to her stomach, kissing her belly. The knots haven’t left, only growing stronger — Eren’s lips tend to the least cultivated parts of her body with great care. Mikasa writhes against the ticklish sensation, smiling graciously. Heaven’s finally answered all her silent prayers, her hidden desires, a gift for her years of devotion to faulty matrimony.
Above all else, Eren’s eyes make her feel best — in the midst of his tender kisses, his gaze finds her happily. That attention, that focus — Mikasa doesn’t need to tilt her gaze to recognize how stained her panties have become.
His fingers hook around them, but he tugs them away slowly, tediously slow, leaving a trail of sweet kisses down her midsection as the air finally hits her cunt with a shiver. Mouth teasing the skin around her sex, Eren smiles, letting all the little hairs tickle between his nose and chin.
“Mikasa, darling,” he starts, softly. “Does your husband ever do this for you? Ever?”
“Never.” Darling — much better than doll.
Nearly too dazed to properly focus, Mikasa swears that Eren’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing. He says nothing more before his tongue presses against her sweet flesh, drinking up her wetness like lemonade on a day hot as this one.
Her legs tighten around him, tight enough to knock the milkman’s hat right off his head. Fingers meddling in his pretty hair, Mikasa guides his mouth to the parts of her aching the loudest, but Eren needs little instruction.
Mikasa wonders how she tastes; her husband’s mouth never sampled her cunt, only his fingers, if she could consider herself lucky enough on those evenings to be given even that much.
Eren’s hands press her thighs into the mattress; Mikasa’s back arches, driving her cunt further into his mouth, utterly inescapable. Whimpers fall off her tongue just as easily as his tongue edges her closer and closer to fruition — the knots in her stomach tighten, so tight it’s damn near painful. Every slow lick he gifts her feels like salvation, too joyfully sinful to dare divulging at the confessional. It’s a treat to her ears as much as it is to her eyes and her sex; Eren’s mouth enjoys her without restraint, loud enough for Mikasa to hear every lick, every suck, every gasp for air.
The longer he licks, the more impatient she grows to have the rest of Eren, too.
“Eren,” she yelps, hips wild in their movements. “Mister— Please, make love to me. Take me.”
He softens, determination melting to a mellow simpler. After his tongue laps up one last sample of her wetness, Eren rises — off comes his uniform top, revealing a simple, far more comfortable undershirt. He tries taking off his pants, but the inconvenience seems to burden him, and the garments only make it around his thighs before he’s climbing on top of her.
Mikasa welcomes him into her arms — her legs wrap around him, keeping him close. The summer weather makes the room so humid; sweat clings to his skin, passing onto her pretty dress. Another chore adds to the pile, but she’ll do whatever extra laundry is required to enjoy this.
Eren kisses her hungrily, with desire, though a different desire from her husband’s. The man she married claims her as his property, his little maid — Eren strives to please, to pamper, to redeem. Her lipstick smudges around the corners, the residue swapping to his lips. Mikasa blushes; between her cunt’s wetness and the ruby-red lipstick, she’s left a real impression on his face.
Eren breaks their kiss, panting. Rustling around. Mikasa knows he’s fumbling around to get his cock out. “How long’s it been, sweetheart?”
“Since what?” She blinks, staring woozily.
“Since your husband made love to you.”
It’s not a number Mikasa struggles to recall. “Two months— Two months, nearly three.”
He scoffs, clicking his tongue. “I’ll fix that, okay?”
Before she’s able to convey her appreciation in any meaningful manner, Eren carefully sheathes himself inside her cunt, submerging inch by inch until his hips are properly introduced to hers.
Her husband prefers to take her from behind. Mikasa’s much more partial to Eren’s approach.
His thrusts are slow, gentle. Mikasa’s fingernails grip his back, pressing him even closer. He smells of sweat— and of her, and Mikasa revels in the aroma. Eren’s cock quenches a thirst she’s been suffering from for too long; the fullness in her cunt has been a source of fantastical daydreams, private, unladylike yearnings — all realized, in her husband’s bed, under his utter obliviousness.
Mikasa whimpers and moans for Eren so easily. Each thrust brings a wave of pleasure that she couldn’t dream of containing in her throat.
Eren grins with every sound she makes. “He’s a goddamn fool, darling,” he mutters. “A fool.”
“I know,” Mikasa whines back. “I know.”
His pace grows — never too much, but enough to push Mikasa close to the brink swiftly. His mouth grants affections at every opportunity; Mikasa’s lips, her collarbone, her neck, the top of her cleavage (the part that teases him most), even the lobes of her ears receive his benevolence.
Euphoria. His cock travels deep inside. The moment Eren reaches down and presses his palm against her belly, Mikasa loses control — her stomach and all its tangles start to unravel, the tension building, building — and culminating in a cascade of relief that washes over her as she drenches his cock in still more of her wetness.
Eren groans; his release takes longer. Mikasa cries out as he takes her, truly takes her, his thrusts taking care of her sopping wet cunt. The sounds alone are nearly enough to grant her another round of pleasure — but Mikasa clings to him, her dress crinkling and rustling as his thrusts grow stronger, so strong until the fullness abandons her entirely, the loss accompanied by Eren’s baritone, beautiful moans, drawn out as he paints her belly with strings of sheet white.
Though Mikasa doesn’t dare voice it, she almost longs for some of Eren’s release to linger inside her cunt, long enough to sprout. Better your child than his, she thinks, blushing at the shame.
Their breathing falls in tandem.
“Do you feel better now, Mikasa?” His voice is hushed now, too, thumb stroking her chin.
Rendered speechless, she nods.
Grinning, Eren kisses her — and again, and for a third time, the longest. To her disappointment, he’s up too soon after, redressing, fixing his hair. Mikasa frowns, forcing herself up to her elbows.
“I wish you wouldn’t have to go.”
“I know — but if I don’t deliver the milk on time, I’ll be fired. And if I’m fired,” he pauses, looking down at the ground as he smiles. “Well, then I won’t have any excuse to pay you more visits.”
Mikasa blushes. She knows he’s right.
“Remember,” she coos, biting her lip. “I’ll make you a whole pie tomorrow. My thanks.”
Eren finishes dressing — but he can’t wipe the grin off his face as he returns for one final kiss.
“My favorite’s cherry. But I still don’t know if it’ll taste nearly as good as you do, darling.”
76 notes · View notes
bluelancess · 3 months
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Untouchable | Elriel fic part 1/3
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Summary: The inner circle is having one of their usual dinner parties, during which Azriel can't help but shoot death glares to Lucien across the table, Elain is the only one who manages to calm him down.
Tags: secret meetings, forbidden love, secret relationship
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Read on AO3.
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Chapter 1: This is falling in love in the cruelest way
The Townhouse was exceptionally quiet today, the only sound filling its empty walls came from Elain’s soft humming in the kitchen. It was a melody she had heard a couple of days back while strolling along Velaris’ farmer’s market. She thought it was sweet, sounded almost a little magical to her ears, she had stopped on her tracks to give her full attention to the street performers, marveling at the way their expert fingers played the instruments, and at how they could attract a large crowd after  only playing a single enchanting note. She was most definitely not doing the song justice, but humming helped her keep her mind away from dangerous black holes that always threatened to swallow her whole, the same way baking and gardening did. 
She was adamant on never letting her mind take her away again. 
Ever.
Elain put the final touches to the delicious meal she was cooking for dinner, and cleaned the palms of her hands on the front part of her light-blue apron. Roasted rosemary potatoes, grilled chicken with lemon zest, honey and mustard, various vegetables she had seasoned earlier; broccoli, peas, a tomato salad with basil and olive oil. 
Cooking kept her busy and occupied most of the time. And it filled her with joy to be able to be helpful in any way she could. Besides, today was one of the Inner Circle’s weekly dinner meeting. Rhysand made it almost mandatory, and considering everyone was busy doing their own thing nowadays, having an afternoon where they could catch up on everything else other than work-related subjects, was a refreshing change. 
Elain had dessert finishing baking in the oven, a blueberry crust pie she was going to  serve alongside some vanilla ice-cream and whipped cream, when Nuala and Cerridwen entered the kitchen, both walked as silently as a ghost would. It used to perturbe Elain at the beginning, them being so silent, but with time she had gotten used to their presence, their company. 
“The table is set,” Nuala said. “We can finish up here.” 
“Thank you,” Elain smiled at her, and slowly removed her apron. Cerridwen extended her hand towards her, so Elain could hand her the clothing item covered in flower. “Is Feyre still asleep?” 
Nuala nodded softly. “She and the babe, both.” 
Elain chewed on her lower lip, concealing the smile that had formed after picturing the image in her head. Feyre lying on her bed, Nyx resting on top on her chest, the tiny wings tucked in, his little chubby hands holding onto Feyre’s gown like he used to do when he slept in that position as if scared Feyre might put him in his crib as soon as he fell asleep. 
“I’ll go change,” Elain told them both, “then I can check up on them.” 
“We’ll clean up here.”
“Thank you.” 
With that, Elain exited the kitchen, and took slow, soft steps towards the stairs. She had already chosen the gown she would wear for dinner. A lavender satiny dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, with hug shoulders, long slit sleeves and a cirde skirt that reached a little under her ankles that flowed when she walked, making her her feel like a real-life fairytale princess. It was her favorite dress as of late. She hadn’t worn it for other people yet, she was waiting for an special occasion. 
This seemed like the right time. 
Considering Az would be here any minute. 
Just thinking about the Shadowsinger brought a wave of unbearable heat cursing through her, warming up her cheeks, her neck, her ears. She needed to learn to control herself, if she wanted whatever was going on between them to remain private. 
Any time she stopped to remember they way Az had looked that one night he came knocking on her window at three in the morning, her whole body shivered, the memory carefully stored in a special place in her heart. It had been the night everything shifted, everything changed, for her. For Azriel. 
No one knew about it. 
No one could. 
Elain had been awake twisting and turning on the sheets, as per usual since their moment at the Winter Solstice, that cursed night that some days, the bad days, she wanted to desperately forget. Forget the way he had touched her and made her light up with so much want, so much need… She had never felt so alive before. Only to end with him pushing her away, such a regretful look in his eyes, telling her that it had been a mistake. But then… there were the good days, those days were she thought about him and hoped, prayed to whatever had interest in hearing her pleas, to have a second chance. To ask him all the questions roaming her head. All the doubts eating at her. 
She never imagined he was feeling the same way. 
But then, as if he were almost as desperate as her, he’d come in the middle of the night, looking like he’d also had been tossing and turning, so many sleepless night catching up to him. She opened the window with her heart on her throat, and he whispered to her to come with him. Only for a moment. He begged with his eyes, a desperation that was so painfully palpable, Elain’s whole chest squeezed at the sight of it. 
Breathless, she took his hand that night. 
It was the first time he took her flying, just for the fun of it. They had made it a habit now. He would knock on her window, she would open it, and he would scoop her in his arms, kiss her brow and marvel at her laughs when he would take off, holding her close to him, showing her the sky. It was those moments, that made Elain feel like she was actually free. 
Elain opened the door to her bedroom, and froze at the threshold, her brown eyes going wide, her traitorous heart beating so fast it reverberated in her ears. 
Azriel brought his index fingers to his lips and it was pure luck she didn't scream when she saw him; sprawled on her bed, boots still on, his wings so big they barely fit the mattress. She licked her lower lip, feet glued to the floor. He looked at her like he wanted to eat her alive, and Elain’s cheeks warmed up. He chuckled, darkly, softly and motioned for her to come forward with his hand, she shook her head like she couldn't believe what he was doing. 
After taking a deep breath, Elain quickly looked over her shoulder before closing the door behind her. She didn’t have time to give a single step, before Azriel got to his feet, and closed the space between them in two exact and calculated steps. 
“You’re insane,” she breathed, lifting her head to look at him in the eyes, he was so tall, it never stoped amazing her, so tall, and so beautiful. Azriel hands went to her cheeks, holding her so gently as if he were scared to hurt her. 
“I missed you,” he simply replied, lifting a shoulder, one of his thumbs caressing her lower lip, his face getting nearer to hers, she could almost taste him. After a couple of weeks meeting in secret, delighting herself with his company, Elain had realized that Azriel liked to tease her. So much. He liked to take things so painfully slow, until she was barely breathing and begging him to touch her, to kiss her, to give her everything. “Just thinking about the fact that I have to sit on that dinner table, unable to touch you for hours, was driving me crazy.” 
Azriel left a phantom kiss on her right cheekbone, then moved to the bridge of her nose. Elain closed her eyes at the contact, savoring the feel of him. Her hands roaming him from his shoulders, down to the muscles of his chest. She loved the way his Illyrian leathers felt under her fingertips. She dreamed of the day she finally would have the opportunity to peel them off of him.
But she couldn’t. They couldn’t. 
Not yet. 
It was too risky, everyone would to know they had been together, their scents would mix, there would be no denying it. And although Azriel was usually cocky and confident when it came to the fact the he most definitely would win a blood duel against Lucien, she couldn't even fathom the idea of Az risking his life in that matter for her. Az kept distributing tiny kisses along her face, like he wanted to pain it all with his lips. It was certainly torture having to wait until they were finally free to fall into the lust consuming their bodies, their souls. But she was completely sure it’d be worth the wait. 
“So you decided to cheat and get a little taste before dinner?” She asked, and he hummed, as he kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the right corner of her mouth. So soft, so gentle. 
“Hmm,” he muttered, “I was actually hoping you wanted to skip dinner altogether.” 
“Because that wouldn’t be suspicious.” He kissed the left corner of her mouth now, and a groan left Elain’s throat, Azriel ignored it and moved down to her jaw. “How long have you been here anyway?” 
“About half an hour,” he replied, voice low, no more than a rumble, but she heard it perfectly, felt it everywhere. He kissed right under her earlobe and Elain bit her lower lip hard, tying to conceal the moan escaping her. “You smell so good.” 
She melted against him the the words, reality crashing into her like a hard wave. Remembering where they were, who that house belonged to. 
“Rhys could get home any minute,” she breathed, he groaned at the name of another male leaving her mouth when he was licking up the column of her neck, her hands grasping his uniform as if she needed it to remain standing. Cauldron, he was killing her. 
“I don’t care,” Azriel replied, sucking gently at the sensitive, pale skin, his hands angling her head, exposing her neck just the way he wanted, the way he needed. “Maybe I should just leave a mark right here,” he whispered, and gently kissed right under her jaw. “Everyone can come to their own conclusions.”
“You wouldn’t.” She teased him, somehow, for some reason, the idea sparked something in her, something feral. She wanted him to claim her, to show everyone that she was his and he was hers. 
That they had chosen one another. 
Damn the consequences. 
 “Someday I will.” He told her, making it sound like a threat. He couldn’t hide the smile of surprise when she let out a breathy moan, as if she could just picture the idea in her head and loved it. 
Elain was about to just grab his beautiful face, get on her tippy toes, and steal a long kiss from his lips, when Azriel stepped away from her, so fast she almost lost her balance. A knock on the door had her spine straightening, her heart jumping. 
“El, are you there?” Feyre. It was her sister’s voice, still sleepy from the nap she had been taking with Nyx. 
She turned around, the door was behind her, she had been pressed against the wood by Azriel's solid body. She swallowed hard, running her fingers through her hair, her face, her neck, she could still feel Azriel lips on her skin, the wet strokes of his tongue, the little painless bites. She was definitely flushed. 
She looked over her shoulder, Azriel was nowhere to be seen, but in the corner of the room, right under the door that connected to her dressing room, a little shadow was peaking, sharp like a knife, as if getting ready to attack if she needed it to. 
“Elain?” Feyre knocked again, and Elain forced herself to take one, two long breaths before turning the knob and opening the door. 
“Sorry,” she told her sister. “I was about to change my clothes. They’re covered in food... you know, from cooking and all that.” 
Feyre yawned, her eyes were glassy and her cheeks rosy from sleep, Elain tried to block the view of the inside of her rooms, just to be sure. But Feyre ignored it, putting one of her hands on her sister’s shoulders and going inside, to lay face first on the bed. 
“Dinner smells so good,” Feyre murmured. “I’m so hungry the smell woke me up. Also, Nyx started to cry. He was hungry too.” 
“You had a good nap?” Elain asked, her voice sounded strange even to herself, but Feyre didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 
“Yes, I needed it.” After a beat, Feyre sat on the bed and looked at Elain, the relaxed look on her face from the last couple of seconds going away in a blink. “Actually, I came to talk to you about something.” 
Elain took a couple steps towards her sister, sitting beside her on the side of the bed. “What happened?”
“I just spoke with Rhys, mainly to asked him what time he was coming home for dinner, and he mentioned to me Lucien is in the city. He came because he has some reports he need to give Rhys, and …” Feyre grimaced, she looked worried, almost guilty. “I know it makes you uncomfortable, so I told him to not even think about bringing him tonight before asking you.” 
Elain couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t breathe. 
She hated this. Hated that cursed mating bond so much. 
All she wanted was to be free of that male, but it was like he didn’t know when to give up. No matter how many hints she sent his way, or the fact that she made it her mission to stay as far away from him as possible. He wouldn’t budge. 
She couldn’t understand how he could continue to pursue her, knowing that it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Lucien couldn’t be so naive to believe she’d change her mind with a couple of expensive gifts and awkward dinner parties where he didn’t even make the effort to see her, understand her. 
But, even if she wanted to say no, this wasn’t her house. Not really. 
It was her sister’s, and her mate’s. She was living there because they were kind enough to let her. Because they cared about her, yes, but that didn’t mean that sometimes, she wished she could have something that was entirely hers. 
Just hers. 
“Lucien is your friend, I don’t want you to not invite him because of me,” the words tasted wrong on the mouth, and the shadows slowly started gathering in the corners of the room, like steam from a boiling pot. 
“Are you sure?” Feyre’s face changed, glowing, “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to, I don’t want to ruin your night.” 
“You won’t. It’s fine.” She tried to give her sister a smile. The truth was, at this point, after everything Feyre had done for her and their family, Elain was willing to do, to endure, absolutely anything for her sister. It was the least she could do. 
No sacrifice seemed great enough. Not after everything Feyre had lost, suffered through for them. For her. 
She could be an adult and enjoy one evening with Lucien. Put on a smile, pretend everything was perfect and delicious, and she was happy. Because she was happy. More than ever. She just had to remind herself that once the dinner party was over, and the guests went home, she could return to her little room, and maybe, just maybe, Azriel would be waiting for her. 
And if he was, she’d ask him to take her flying. 
Feyre threw her arms around her sister and kissed her temple. 
“Everyone is getting here in fifteen minutes.” Feyre stood up from the bed and walked towards the door. “I’ll see you downstairs.” 
Elain closed the door as soon as her sister left, and rested her forehead on the cool wood. She felt the spymaster presence at her back, his eyes piercing, his shadows surrounding the four walls of her rooms like he wanted to keep her there, all to himself.
“Did you know he was on the city?” She asked softly, turning around to see him standing right outside her dressing room. 
Azriel shook his head. 
“Rhys ordered me to take care of other business today,” he replied, his voice lethal, scarred hands curling into tight balls, shoulders tense. She approached him, and softly put the pads on her fingers in his hands, willing them to relax, to open up for her and let her in, hold her. 
“It’ll be okay.” 
“I can’t stand it,” he groaned. “I can’t stand the way he looks at you. The smell—“ Azriel took her hands into his, closing his fingers around hers tight, the muscle on his jaw flexing. 
“It’s not easy for me either.” 
“Then let’s not go,” he looked at her like he wanted to whisk her away, show her everything, run and run until no one knew who they were. "Let's go somewhere else, just you and me."
“Az…” His name sounded so charged coming from her lips, like a prayer, a promise, the sweetest of secrets, something she only said when it was the two of them, alone. “We can’t.” 
He let out a long sigh, and rested his chin on top of her head. 
“Don’t ask me to be nice, then,” he said.
“I wasn’t going to.” 
“Good.” 
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this is going to be a 3 part little one shot so enjoy &lt;3
106 notes · View notes
meduarts · 2 years
Text
Managing Life (Part 1/?)
Summary: Marinette has been Audrey Bourgeois' secretary ever since she voiced out her dream of having her own business. Audrey thinks that she should learn more about the nooks and crannies of running a fashion business. However, fate has other plans for her, and honestly, what can our resident guardian could do to counter fate?
Disclaimer: I do not own MLB or DCU. A/N: It has been quite a while since I write fanfiction. I hope this is good enough for now!
Taglist: @timinette-is-best, @peach-blueberry-pie, @tinybrie, @taewinterbear95, @its-maemain, @flyhighdreamer, @kokoroluna (Tell me if you want to be a part of the taglist!)
<Next Chapter>
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"Mme Bourgeois, I have booked the flight to Gotham and arranged your stay at their best suite in Wayne Hotel for 7 days in Gotham during the Gala week."
Marinette reported her progress with polite professionalism like she always uses during this private meeting with her boss, Audrey Bourgeois the CEO of Style Queen. It has been over 5 years since the fall of Hawkmoth and the ex-Parisian hero had hung up her superhero costume and continued her life as usual.
Sure it took some trips to therapy sessions and many breakdowns after that fateful encounter, but like always our hero picked herself back up, brushed the dust, and took another step toward the future. The year when Hawkmoth was defeated was her last year at Dupont. It was a somewhat bittersweet graduation present if she was being honest. When she graduated from Dupont, she did so without even mending her relationship with her classmates.
She left Dupont without looking back, her classmate decided that the girl who can weave words so sweet is a better gem than Marinette and Marinette gave them her answer by letting them go.
After that, she went to IFA and graduated early with honors. While going to fashion school, Chloe successfully roped her to have an internship under the Style Queen. Which landed her a permanent secretary position and is working under Audrey as an apprentice as of today.
"Magnifique! I can always count on you Marinette! Did you make sure that your own accommodation is planned perfectly as well?"
"Naturally, Mme Bourgeois."
Audrey nodded, pleased at how competent Marinette is. "Excellent news, darling. Do you have your dress ready?"
Marinette went quiet and averted her gaze from her boss. Audrey frowned at her changed behavior and sighed heavily. "You do know that you are coming with me, right Marinette?"
Marinette kept quiet.
"Marinette," Audrey called with a pointed tone. Her apprentice fidgets one of her tics when she got found out doing something she wasn't supposed to do.
"Marinette, you know what this Gala meant, yes?"
"A Charity gala, Madame?"
Audrey laughed her signature condescending laugh and waved her gloved hand. "Cease your joking, Marinette! It is a chance for you to spread your wings! Make more connections! You understand why I'll take you with me, non?"
"To make sure your dress stays perfect, Madame?" Marinette snarked playfully.
"Hmm, that is true, yes. But! Aside from that, I want to brag you of course!"
Marinette tilted her head in confusion. Her lips formed a cute pout as her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Brag me, Madame?"
Audrey raised from her leather seat and walked towards the window behind her white marbled desk. "Yes! Marinette, you are an amazing aspiring designer, an amazing secretary and I have nothing to teach you any more about fashion because you soaked it all up like a sponge."
Marinette stayed quiet during her boss' tirade, though her mind began to swirl in a whirlwind of mess. What did she mean she didn't have anything to teach her anymore? She still has a long way to go! It's not her time to spread her wings! She was sure she'll plummet when the first problem occurs in her business! Not to mention, she knew that her design isn't up to par yet to other professional designers for her to build a business.
Sure she has celebrity clients here and there and whenever she opens out her website for the commission the list would be full in no time. However, comparing herself with Style Queen or even the now-dead Agreste Brand, she still has a long way to go.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng cease those self-deprecating thoughts that I know you're thinking right now! Honestly! I have raised you to have self-confidence but it seems that your biggest enemy is yourself!"
Tell me about it, Marinette scoffed internally but stopped her train of thought nonetheless. The young woman raised her head and look at her boss with a pensive look and Audrey gave her a rare soft smile.
"Marinette, you are a great designer, your business though it is small, will grow quickly. I have nothing more to teach you, it's time for you to find a new mentor. Spread your wings, embark new horizon, non?" Audrey spread her hands as a grand gesture, she then winked at Marinette to add a little bit of effect. "Think about it."
"Understood, Mme Bourgeois." Giggled Marinette merrily. Audrey chuckled and clapped her hands. "I'll inform you of my decision, tomorrow morning."
Audrey claps her hand with a victorious smile, "Magnifique! Now! I require-"
"Your special brew coffee and your sweet snacks for the break and the latest fashion magazine as well as your mani-pedis private appointment," Marinette replied immediately with a sardonic smile. Her boss smirked and winked at her and Marinette excused herself from the office.
Once the huge doors of the office closed she let her shoulder slump and exhaled heavily. Her heart was heavy at the thought of leaving Style Queen, she loves her job, though it isn't actually a full-time designing job, she made a good amount of money and the working hours didn't clash with her time to finish her client's commission, so all in all a win-win situation.
However, deep down she knew that Audrey was right, she had hit a point where she could grow no further here. Her design flourished through the years and more celebrities approached her privately to purchase her designs, but honestly, she doesn't know what to do next. Audrey had told her in order to build a big fashion business she would need a mentor that dabbled in a business empire and sadly enough though her network is vast none of them are from a flourishing business empire.
Marinette reached her personal desk and slumped on her seat while massaging her temple. She could feel a prod from her breast pocket and looked down to see her faithful friend peering up at her with their big eyes. Marinette gave Tikki an encouraging small smile.
"It's alright, Tikki, I'll manage." She whispered quietly at her. Even though this particular floor is only inhabited by her office and the big boss, she could never be too safe.
"I know, Marinette. I just figured you need a pat, that's all." Tikki giggled sweetly at her chosen.
"Thank you, Tikki. It definitely gave me a boost." She chuckled and tickled Tikki's soft head with her finger. She took a deep breath and decided to shelve the thought about her growing business aside, she had work to do. She popped her knuckles and straightened her back.
First thing first, the mani-pedis private appointment.
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Marinette finished her work a little later than the normal 5 o'clock, there's a lot of work to be done as the Style Queen's assistant. But she didn't complain, it made her busy so she doesn't have to wallow in depression and anxiety that had always waited for her in the corner.
She gathered her things meticulously, made sure that Tikki is safely tucked in her bucket bag that she had made herself, and left the building to go home. Her penthouse wasn't far from where she worked, so it had been a pleasant quiet walk home.
Once she arrived home she let Tikki out of her bag and went to a room that she named, 'The Kwami Abode'. It was one of the more spacious rooms with a large window facing the Eiffel tower, in the middle of the room stood a glowing tree, the whole tree branches and trunk were white with shimmering iridescent purple and blue, and the leaves were crystal it formed a dome covering the egg-shaped Miracle box on the top of the tree trunk, hanging by the branches were different color pods there were 19 in total for all the Kwamis and each pod was decorated for their personal preference.
The room was painted a soft lilac color and it has layers upon layers of protective magic. Once Marinette had bought herself a place to live using her own commission money and her pay as Style Queen's secretary, she made sure to reserve a room for the Kwamis. She doesn't want them to be cooped up in the Miracle Box, so using her magic she created the trees and pods so that the Kwami could lounge around in peace.
Tikki was delighted that her chosen held such great magic and the other Kwamis were equally delighted that their guardian is thoughtful enough to build them a proper place to stay in.
Marinette smiles as Tikki gave her a small kiss on her cheek and flew to her pod, from one of the pods Pollen flew out and let out an excited squeal.
"The Grand Guardian Is Back!!!" The Bee kwami immediately zoomed toward Marinette and gave her cheek a hug.
Hearing Pollen's excited squeal the other kwamis namely, Trixx, Barkk, and Duusu flew out from their respective pods and swarmed Marinette with hugs of their own. The young Guardian smiled warmly at their excited greetings and left the Kwami Abode to start on dinner.
While making the Kwami's dinner, she was lost in thought again about her future. So lost that she almost chopped her fingers but thankfully Plagg stopped her by nudging her palm with his head. Marinette blinked a few times and her eyes locked at Plagg's electric green. The Black Cat God gave her a look.
"What's going on in your head, kitten?"
Marinette set aside the knife she was holding and let out a deep sigh, "It's nothing, Plagg. I'm just being ridiculous."
"Utterly ridiculous?" Plagg snarked with a shit-eating grin.
Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious though, pigtails, what's going on? You wanna have a therapy session with your favorite kwami again?"
"Oh come on, Plagg. I haven't been wearing pigtails in years! You've gotta find a more creative nickname than that. You're losing your touch. Also, my favorite Kwami happens to be Wayzz." She winked as Plagg gave a betrayed gasp.
"How dare you, pigtails! I raised you from when you were just a lovesick kitten! Taught you everything you know about mischief and chaos! And this is how you pay me??? Betrayal?? Favoritism???" He wailed dramatically.
Marinette laughed out loud, holding the kitchen counter so she wouldn't fall. Plagg grinned as he watched his precious kitten laugh freely, it doesn't happen too often, not nowadays at least. Marinette had closed herself off from any potential friendship because of the trauma she had from her former classmate. Her only friends, namely Kagami, Luka, and Chloe, didn't see each other as often as they'd like. But they tried at least.
"Anyways, don't try changing the subject, kitten. What's wrong?" Plagg asked again. Marinette stopped her laugh and smiled weakly at Plagg.
"I'm not getting out of this conversation, am I?"
"Nope, kitty cat! C'mon, y'know you can confide your worries to dear old Plagg!"
Marinette snorts and rolled her eyes before huffing silently. "It's about my future. Audrey told me that I might need to find another mentor since she doesn't have anything to teach me anymore. It's a great opportunity but I'm content with what I have!"
Plagg hummed and floats closer to Marinette. "You're scared of change, aren't you?"
Marinette holds her shoulder and hunched forward while biting her lips anxiously. "Maybe...Okay... Yeah, I'm scared. It's just... I think she wants me to leave France and I'm just..."
"Not ready?"
The former ladybug nodded meekly at that. Plagg reached out to touch her cheeks. "Listen to me, Bugs. I know how scary it is to get out of your comfort zone, but I can feel you restless. You are a true Holder, A True Soul even! I can tell that your creative soul is dying to leave this place. Paris is safe now, it has been safe for 5 years, and you made sure of that. The people had their time to move on forward. But you? This might be your chance to do so."
"But what about, you guys?"
"What? You think we're going to hate leaving Paris? Kitten, you are the Great Grand Guardian of the Miraculous. Where you go we follow. Besides, I think I speak for all of my siblings that we just want you to be happy."
"Plagg is right my Queen! You made sure we live in comfort and we also want the same for you!"
"You've done so much for us and it's time for you to be a little selfish, who knows maybe you'll meet the love of your life out there!" Duusu exclaimed excitedly.
"Besides, your power has improved greatly, Grand Guardian. I think making another 'Kwami's Abode' in your new residence wherever you will be would be an easy task. We believe in you." Wayzz added as he joined the conversation.
Marinette felt tears prickling from her eyes, she sniffed and looked up at the Kwamis around her. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She whispered.
Her heart settled for the first time in a few years, no lingering anxiety as her decision was made. Perhaps, the Wayne Gala would lead her to a better life, a new exciting adventure, a place where she could finally call home.
"Well, it looks like we're all going to take a trip to Gotham."
TBC
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evanesdust · 7 months
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(and there it goes) i think i found my best friend
written for - @sterekfests prompt: baking @sterekweekly word: momentous
Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: POV Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Established Relationship, Alpha Derek Hale, Fluff
Summary:
…the one where Derek came home to Stiles baking.
Derek pushed open the apartment door and was immediately hit with the scent of fresh pie. It brought a big smile to his face because he loved the way it filled up the whole apartment, infusing it with warmth and deliciousness.
"Stiles?" he called out, shutting and locking the door. There was no answer as he set his bag by the door and kicked his shoes off to the side, but he wasn't worried. Some days, he'd come home to find Stiles in the kitchen, dancing around to whatever song played through his AirPods.
And sure enough, as soon as Derek turned the corner from the entryway, he could see Stiles in front of the stove, bobbing his head and shaking his ass. The kitchen counter was covered with utensils: stirring spoons, measuring cups, a well-used recipe book, and an electric mixer. There were also a couple of bowls filled with the remnants of whatever Stiles had made. Blueberry pie if Derek's nose didn't deceive him. His favorite, which made him smile even wider as he walked closer.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched Stiles move about the kitchen with ease. They'd only been living together for a few weeks, but this felt as natural as breathing. The familiarity of the routines they'd established and the comfort in their shared space seemed like they had been doing this forever. And Derek loved these moments; catching glimpses of the domestic life that they were building together was his current obsession. Watching Stiles in his element, his face focused yet relaxed, his joy visible in his spontaneous dance moves, made Derek realize once again how lucky he was to have Stiles.
"I can feel you staring at me," Stiles called out, smirking as he turned around. He took out his earbuds and set them on the counter next to his phone.
Derek pushed away from the column and walked over to Stiles, needing to touch him. "Can't help it. I like watching you."
Stiles was wearing one of his cute, nerdy pop culture T-shirts, and Derek couldn't resist tugging him closer by the hem. Stiles's eyes widened in surprise before morphing into a playful glare.
"You just wanted to stare at my ass," he complained, but Derek could tell he was trying to hide a smile.
Unfazed, Derek simply shrugged. "Well, it's a great ass."
Stiles snorted as he wrapped his arms around Derek.
"Welcome home," Stiles replied, leaning in and kissing Derek gently on the lips. Such a simple gesture, but it also felt momentous. This...this was home—the feel of Stiles in his arms, the delicious aroma of blueberry pie baking in the oven, and the sight of the light dimming outside their apartment window.
Derek buried his face into Stiles's neck, inhaling the mix of scents that was uniquely him but also them.
Stiles tightened his arms around him, their bodies swaying slightly to the rhythm of a melody only he could hear.
Just like that, Derek knew he was in the exact place where he wanted to be. They were building something beautiful here, with more soft moments like this to come, more joy to share and pies to bake, more laughter and dancing in their cozy apartment.
With a smile, Derek pressed a soft kiss on Stiles's neck, smiling when he hummed in contentment. This moment was perfect—the evening sunlight gently streaming in through the windows and the warmth of Stiles against him.
This was home, and Derek couldn't ask for anything more.
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