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vminity21 · 3 years

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Even in the Rain | knj [Part 1]

Pairing: friend!Namjoon X female!reader, exboyfriend!Jimin X bakeryreviewer!reader, friendshiptolovers!au, bakery!au, forbiddenlove!au

Word Count: 18,482

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warning(s): foul language use, angst involving an ex-boyfriend, mention of alcohol on multiple occasions, mention of infidelity, mention of smoking, eventual smut (potentially in part 2), slow burn, taehyung and jimin are jerks in the story, based on the kdrama, Something in the Rain, i do not own the rights or the show; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Namjoon has been in love with you for what seems like forever. Despite you being five years older, him being your best friend’s brother, on top of your brother, Kim Seokjin, being one of Namjoon’s best friends- nothing will stop him from getting you to notice him, and he also will not let your relentless ex-boyfriend stand in the way of him winning your heart. You, on the other hand, an observer of bakeries notices the feelings Namjoon is starting to etch upon your heart; amidst this budding love, your mind is also confused upon the strange incidents happening between the bakeries planning to franchise together. But, who would want to jeopardize the businesses?

Credit to: @suhdays for such a beautiful cover!

The dreary clouds serenade the atmosphere with panging rain droplets while a faint brush of a sigh escapes your lips. Shoving loose hair from your ponytail behind your ears, you steady the umbrella above you- knuckles white from the grip you have on the handle. Once again, you’re scheduled to observe Jeon’s Bakery in downtown Busan- a thriving shop owned by the richest couple ever known, soon being passed down to their eldest son, Jung-hyun, whom you’ve had the pleasure of knowing throughout the years.

Stepping into the bakery- the cozy atmosphere brings a warmth you’ve been needing since you woke up this morning- shaking your umbrella through the crack of the glass door onto the sidewalk, you then return to face the dimly lit décor, leaning your umbrella along the wall. Aromas of freshly baked pastries waft in your direction while you inhale a hint of strawberry. Glistening sweets line beneath the glass cases while heated lights keep them appealing; the other side holds numerous cakes, decked with different colors or flavors- your stomach growling at the desire to purchase a treat or two before leaving.

“Ah, welcome,” Jung-hyun greets with a brief handshake and bow, though the nervous tension crinkles at the edges of his eyes. You, being one of the top members of the corporation, who franchises with Jeon’s Bakery, your reviews are very important- and, with the plans of opening another bakery along with a competing bakery on the other side of town, Jung-hyun is aware of the pressure his family line has to maintain a clean, yet successful business. Of course, with the hopes of the competing bakery, Ji Woo’s Café, signing the contract to officially set the opening date.

“How do you do,” you nod, hearing the padding footsteps of the employees rushing to stand at your presence. One, you recognize to be the youngest brother, Jeon Jungkook, folding his hands in front of him, while his eyes remain cast downward- brown hair swooping over his forehead while he timorously chews at the corner of his mouth. “My, how he’s grown,” you smile, his wide stare greeting yours with a timid bow.

“Just turned eighteen nearly two months ago,” Jung-hyun nods at his brother with pride before returning his gaze to you, “Next thing I know, it’ll be me handing the business to him,”

You can’t help the feeling of dread at how many years you’ve been a part of your job- essentially instructing cleaning reviews or food violations that are still not being met- and you hardly ever admit the gray hairs that you’ve remained to consistently pluck since your twenty-eighth birthday not too long ago. With a long glance around the bakery, you bring your clipboard forward while the click of your heels gives some sort of sound other than the rain prodding the rooftop.

“It is a bit dusty in this section here,” you run a finger over a shelf dawning coffee mugs and other trinkets, rubbing your fingertips together while an employee sprints with a damp cloth to clean the area you pointed out, “And the floor needs to be swept more thoroughly, I can see some crumbs even from this distance,” you hate sounding so nitpicky, but your boss Kim Taehyung, can be, and he expects a lot out of these businesses, so you maintain your duty in making sure everything is spotless, especially since you don’t want anyone, especially the Jeons’, to have to deal with Taehyung’s wrath.

Reaching the cold foods section, you tamper through the packages to check expiration dates, noticing a few will be out of date within the next week, “And, also, Mr. Jeon, make sure to check the expiration dates often, we want customers to be given exactly what they’re paying for without the risk of stomach upset,”

“Yes ma’am,” he bows obediently, while you study the rest of the store before turning to face every employee. A young girl, one who has avoided eye contact nearly your entire visit, cuddles into her thin sweater, your eyes falling to notice her open-toed shoes, “I know accidents may happen from time to time, but with heavy machinery, we use in the back to create such desserts, closed-toed shoes are a must,” though when first starting the job, you used to be afraid to single individuals out, with so many years of experience, it has become immune. “Let this be a warning, okay?” The girl nods in shame, though you give her a look of understanding.

One more detailed sweep, you give Jung-hyun a copy of the notes you made with the direction to continue his work. Reaching for your umbrella, you notice the heavy rain has died down to a soft sprinkle, and once the smell of the rain fills your nostrils, you still open your umbrella in an attempt to protect your outfit since you will be returning to work to finish out the day.

The familiar ‘ding’ of a text tone distracts once your clicking heels round a street where Jeon’s Bakery officially disappears behind you- retrieving it from your pocket, you realize it’s a text from your almost year-long boyfriend, Park Jimin.

Jiminie: ‘Dinner tonight? I think we need to talk,’

Just the simple text, with just a simple intent, with a simple meaning- or what is supposed to be simple- brings a strange feeling the moment you read it. Hardly watching the direction you’re heading, you’re very thankful when the ringtone assigned to your best friend jingles, prompting you to answer immediately,

“How, did you know to call me, right at this exact moment?” Your fingers feel ice cold upon your cheek once the phone is at your ear- and the tiny pain in your stomach is hard to ignore mingled with the bundles of nerves fluttering within your system.

“Glad to know I’m number one on your mind,” your childhood best friend, Monica, teases while a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “I’m assuming something’s up?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, brushing past a few pedestrians while your eyes cautiously trail the sidewalk to prevent from tripping over something, “It’s Jimin,”

“Hm,” Monnie hums, the crunch of a carrot sounding through the staticky phone line, “Please tell me you two didn’t fight. Again,”

If the humiliation rising within your chest isn’t obvious enough, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily, trying to suppress the memory of the past month or two within your conscious, “He’s been going on and on about that promotion,”

“And,” Monnie adds, “Let’s not forget you’ve made it clear that you’re not planning on leaving Busan.”

“I know, I know,” the solitude of the area you’re in seems silent, way too silent, and maybe it’s due to the budding sadness. Jimin’s job is wanting to take him to Seoul- nearly 325 kilometers away from where you’ve grown up- where you’ve held a successful job- and, where your family and friends reside. The two of you have been battling it out for what feels like too long, emotionally draining you just as evenly as the stress from your job, “I just wish he would just understand my side for once,” your voice is hushed as if he can hear you, Monica nodding on the other end though you cannot see it.

“Well, how about you change his mind,” a devious tone evident in her voice, “Give him something he wouldn’t want to miss out on if you catch my drift,”

“You are such a tease,” you shake your head incredulously, “But, you have a good point,”

“Uh-huh, when do I not?”

Sauntering minutes longer past the numerous rows of shops, you end the phone call with Monica before your eyes fall upon a small boutique with mannequins adorned in glimmering dresses poised behind the glass window. Maybe an ounce of hope decides to arise, especially the second it leads you into the shop, trying on a few dresses in the mirror until you’ve made your decision.

The dress hugs all the right curves while you run your hands over the fabric- loose curls tickle your shoulders, yet the dress is modest enough to leave mystery- leave eyes lingering whilst you walk by. Except, the moment Jimin takes a seat before you, across the table within your favorite restaurant, his eyes seem to pay more attention to his wine glass rather than sweeping you. His thick lips lay in an obvious grimace, disinterest in his expression to every word you say, yet you remain unaltered, showing him no sign of notice, until he interrupts you,

“I received news today,” he clears his throat, your mouth slightly agape while your eyes widen in anticipation for what he’s about to say next, “They’re promoting me. It’s official,”

“Oh, Jimin,” you breathe, though you’re happy his job is recognizing him for his outstanding work in his job field, you can’t help the sorrow plaguing you at what you know is considered the next step, “I’m so happy for you,” you feign enthusiasm, but he sees right through you, especially when his brown eyes nearly smother your gaze with disbelief, “When- when is the big day?”

“Two weeks,” He counters, eyes falling back to his drink, “Have to clean out my apartment, and leave within two weeks,”

“Two weeks?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden answer, not even giving you enough time to process, one- that your boyfriend of nearly a year will be leaving so soon whether you move with him or not, and two- the realization that maybe, no matter how hard you try to get him to understand you, he just simply won’t. “But that’s so sudden-”

“Just come with me,” he’s exasperated, waving a hand once in the air, “If you’re really as happy for me as you say you are, you’d come,”

“Excuse me?”

“What is it about Busan that you just can’t seem to let go? We will be able to visit family if that’s what you’re afraid of,”

“Jimin, we’ve already discussed this,” you run your hands over the bridge of your nose propping your elbows onto the table, while you try with all your might to calm the anger, “I have a steady job here, one I will not be able to transfer. I’m not ready to just give up my life like this, what part of that do you not understand?” You peer through your hands, “And, I mean, if there’s anything I don’t understand, is if you can visit as often as you say you can, then how come a long-distance relationship sounds so revolting to you?”

Frustration drips from him when he leans back into his chair, eyes scoping the side of the restaurant while his lips press into a firm line. A thought that failed to occur to you from previous arguments dawns,

“Wait,” you inhale, “Are you afraid… that you’ll start seeing someone else?” When he abruptly meets your gaze, your elbows fall to your sides, “Jimin?”

Shaking his head, “Forget it,”

“Then what is it?” You question, “If not that, then what is it?” Investigating his eyes, you’re nearly brought to your knees from the heartbreak wrenching within you, “If this is something that leaves such distaste in your mouth then why not just break up with me?” Without a second thought, you stand to your feet, not even sure how you’re able to with how your body is trembling, but you maintain your balance while you thrust your trench coat on, “You know what? I’ll do the honors,”

He follows you out the door in a mild panic, though he remembers to leave cash behind to pay for the meal. Declining the ride, he offers, you can’t even speak nor look in his direction, your heart-shattering in a million pieces especially when his presence leaves without even a speck of desire to fight for you. You’re rendered speechless the entire walk of the chilly night- shooting a text to Monnie to meet you at a local bar- her treating you to multiple drinks- gulping them down with the intention of drowning in your sorrows.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to stop,” she motions for the waiter to scatter any empty glasses he can before you down your final drops, “Besides, you’re the one who dumped him, so am I missing something?”

“No,” you drag out the word, your head dizzy from the heavy buzz you feel, “You and I both know this is something that’s not easily forgettable,”

“Maybe you’re right, but really, [Y/N], you’re going to make yourself sick,”

“And what if I do? What’s it going to change?” Your words slur, while you lean onto your knuckles- your eyelids squinted in a hazy glance. Mo’s concern is all you can envision while she lightly taps your arm.

“If he were worth it, he’d stay in a relationship with you despite any distance,” her voice softens, her turning to get you to rest on her shoulder, “Besides, if I were him, I wouldn’t have let you walk away, especially with how that dress snugs your ass,”

Cackles erupt from your throat while you lean more into her frame for comfort, “Shut up, no it doesn’t,”

Flabbergasted, she pulls away just enough to stare down at your glossy eyes, “Girl, you look like a twelve outta ten, would recommend, and any asshole would be stupid to let a dime piece like you go,”

“You mean it?”

“Of course,” she wraps an arm under your shoulders to help you steady on your feet, “Now, I’m going to take you home. Your brother is coming home tomorrow as well as mine, and the last thing I need is for them to smell alcohol on your breath,”

“But, but- I’m- I’m not done yet. Just one more,”

“No! Are you insane?”

“Monnie, please, just one more. Just one-”

“Drinking isn’t going to make Jimin’s absence any less painful, now come on, you need to get home,” Reluctantly, you obey, faltering into your home while your parents, who are retired, stare at you with mirrored worry, you immediately bowing in apology before stumbling to your bedroom. The following morning hits you like an ocean wave, your head thudding while you force yourself to sit up- the shower awakens you just enough for you to function, and the minute you’re dressed with a towel wrapped around your drenched hair- you open the door to be greeted by your younger brother, Kim Seokjin.

“You look like you’ve been trampled by ten elephants,” his arms outspread while you gasp,

“Seokjin! You’re home!” Crashing into his arms, he hugs you tight, the safety you feel with him finally returning home brings serenity to the household. You haven’t seen your brother in four years with him studying abroad in America, which reminds you that it must mean Monnie’s brother, Kim Namjoon, who studied the same program as Seokjin, is home, too- though you vaguely remember your best friend making that statement last night before taking you home.

Leaning back to playfully smack his shoulder, you tease, “Don’t think I forgot about what you just said a second ago! Remember, I am your elder,”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh sounds while his shoulders shake, “By what, a few years? And don’t think I didn’t hear about you coming home wasted last night,”

With a roll of the eyes, you hear your mother starting up food in the kitchen, “It’s complicated, but,” with a quick sweep, you notice, Seokjin is wearing an outfit as if he’s about to head out, a backpack still hanging off his shoulders, “But- wait, aren’t you staying?”

“Mom, didn’t tell you? I’m moving out with one of my past friends. Remember, Hoseok?”

“Ah,” a lightbulb clicks, “The one whose parents own the competing bakery? The one we used to raid when we were children?”

“Yes, that’s the one,”

You remember Seokjin and Hoseok were thick as thieves growing up, so with a curt nod, you elbow your brother’s side, “Good idea rooming with him, but you better visit me. I literally haven’t seen you other than through a phone screen,”

“You know I will,” He promises, “No more phone screen,”

As much as the two of you love your mother, she can be overbearing at times- and, you can’t help with how hard it is to stifle laughter as you watch her pester Seokjin as he’s leaving, “Please eat once you get there since you won’t stay for the meal I cooked- and, please text me once you arrive- remain in good health for me okay- don’t do anything you will regret-”

Seokjin waves goodbye before your mother follows you to the kitchen. Of course, she isn’t going to ignore the incident of you rummaging to make a cup of coffee in an attempt to remedy the hangover you know you deserve after how much you chugged the night before. Unaware of the situation that caused your drunken state, your shoulders tense the moment you hear his name,

“I thought you were with Jimin last night? He’s never let you drink more than one glass. Very insolent of him if you ask me,”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that anymore,” you mumble against the rim of the coffee mug.

“I guess I can forgive him this one time, invite him over sometimes so I can cook you both some dinner. It’s about time for you to settle down and marry-”

At this point, you’re increasingly aware of how late you will be to work if you continue to listen to your mom banter about your ex-boyfriend, one you can’t bring yourself to reveal in fear of disappointing your mother. Although, your father offers to give you a ride, you politely decline, making your way to the nearest station before sprinting into the building of your job.

From the poker face, Taehyung has while everyone files in to their seats, your coworkers LenLen and Shai take a quick seat on either side of you- Yoongi, handy with the technological side of the business gets the screen to load to where everyone can see it. Chairs turned in the same direction, you swallow nervously when a picture of what looks to be bags of flour are revealed to have picked up pesky moths, and the horror you feel when it’s the same store your brother’s childhood friend has grown-up knowing: Ji Woo’s Cafe.

“This,” Taehyung’s voice booms while gesturing toward the screen, “Is unacceptable.”

With slumping shoulders, everyone knows he isn’t wrong, but it’s the embarrassment of knowing this has been missed.

“Who is in charge of keeping up with this particular franchise?”

LenLen hesitates beside you though you’re of knowledge that she is, in fact, the supervisor of the Jung’s shop. You don’t even hesitate to stick up for her, promising you will get to the bottom of this ordeal being that you know the Jungs’ personally. The bus ride over doesn’t take long, but you figure it’s from the trepidation of having to face a family you haven’t seen in so many years over something that wasn’t necessarily in their control. When arriving, the first face you see is Jung Hoseok, messy hair frilly across his forehead with your brother rounding the corner putting on his apron. It takes a prolonged second for everyone to register each other’s presence, and you factor in that maybe they hired a moving company to assist in helping them unpack their belongings. Or, perhaps, Seokjin is staying with Hoseok’s parents for the time being until the two can find a place of their own. Either way, your eyes flicker between the stunned pair prompting you to clear your throat- pressing the tip of your pen onto the pad of paper upon your clipboard.

“Hello, Gentlemen, you may have been aware, but it has been brought to corporate’s attention about flour bags being infested with moths?”

Hoseok wets his lips, frantically looking over at Seokjin who shrugs his shoulders, completely oblivious to the scenario that may have taken place prior to his hiring, “Uh, yes- yes ma’am,”

“And please tell me such a discovery was not, in fact, served to our consumers?” Palms clammy, you’re surprised at how intimidating you can be but with the way Hoseok’s panicky eyes scream innocence, you know that he didn’t do anything of the sort.

“Of course not,” he stammers, your brother glaring a look though he knows you’re merely doing your job.

“Good,” you scribble a few notes of areas you noticed may need to be tidied up before handing it to him, “Just remember to always, always, keep things clean, and to always store packaging in the correct areas. I agree sometimes we can’t prevent everything, but from what I could tell from the picture, the flour wasn’t stored properly.”

“I’m so-”

Gesturing a hand to stop him, you continue, “No need for apologies, just make sure staff is trained to follow protocols. And if I overheard correctly, Jeon’s Bakery may want to franchise along with Ji Woo’s Cafe for the opening of the new store. If that’s the case, then everyone must be on the same page in order for that contract to be signed. Do I make myself clear?”

Hoseok timidly nods, you being grateful that customers haven’t waltzed in especially with it being close to afternoon; glimpsing at your brother, he swallows, nodding once in understanding. In this circumstance, guilt wedges in the crevices of your mind, especially with it, now, involving a blood relative who works within one of the stores your company partly owns. Coming off harsh isn’t who you really are, but the job forces you to be this way, especially when stressing the importance of cleanliness and statistics of sales.

You’re nearly lost in thought- reminiscing on unwanted memories of Jimin, avoiding the ache in your soul when you can’t remember the last time, you’d seen him smile. Blisters form on your feet from your heels, the pain thudding to the point you hardly notice the tall figure inching closer to your frame. In fact, you choose to ignore whoever it is, keeping your eyes ahead with the goal of making it home.

“Is that how you treat a friend you haven’t seen in years?”

“Whoa!” You jolt, whirling in the direction of the deep voice- heart hammering against your sternum while your hand flies to your chest. Dimples immediately appear in your vision while hearty laughter escapes the handsome face of none other than your best friend’s brother, Kim Namjoon. “Namjoon?” Your voice raises in glee, his trench coat loose on his frame, while his wide smile remains on his face, “How long have you been following me?”

“Who said it was me who was doing the following,” he teases while you open your mouth in fake offense,

“Kim Namjoon, yes you were!” Your smile hasn’t been so genuine other than when your brother returned home and reaching forward to playfully smack Namjoon’s arm, he promenades around you while he dodges your every move. The view to outsiders looking in would appear to be a happy couple especially with the way you chase after him, with the contrived promise of embracing him, when really you plan on tackling him for following you for however long he did.

The teasing soon leads to the pair of you agreeing to drinks and dinner- planning to catch up over the four years lost between your friendship.

“So,” your voice is chirpy after taking a long sip of your beer, the waitress settles the entrees in front of you and Namjoon, your elbows resting on either side of the plate while you peer at him over your folded hands. Seeing his face brings a spindle of turning memories- laughter with him and Monnie alongside you, getting into mischievous spouts, causing both pairs of parents in continuous bouts of worry- and the way his brown hair is neatly styled to the way his brown eyes study your every move, you are thankful for his presence, along with your brother’s, being returned to you, “Meet anyone you’ve taken a liking, to?” Namjoon’s only five years younger than you, but with the pressure of marriage being a thought- you’re uncertain if he’s tied the knot- or, more so, your question is directed to if he’s fallen for an American girl, something you’re curious to know about your friend.

A breathy laugh escapes him while he sips his drink, grabbing his fork to play with a vegetable on his plate, “Unfortunately, you’ve remained at the top of my list,” reaching for his drink, he lifts it toward you while you mimic his gesture, clinking them together while you shake your head at him,

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Can’t remember a time it hasn’t,” he takes a bite of his pasta while you conjure up another question,

“Are you ever planning on going back? To America?” Honestly, you’re afraid of the answer, because if he says yes, then that could mean Seokjin will be following suit.

“Actually,” Namjoon carefully places his fork back on the napkin beside his plate, running the back of his hand at the corner of his mouth, “I hope to live there one day. But that’s only for when Korea gets too small for me,”

“Does Monnie know?” Crossing your arms, your appetite is suddenly lost, for the time being, the subject of anyone else disappearing from your life for a while making you feel a small wave of nausea. Namjoon’s eyes flicker to his plate before returning to your gaze which gives you an answer without any words, “You know she cares a lot for you. She’s been talking non-stop about your arrival since you left.”

“I know,” his voice trails, while he clenches his jaw, “I almost didn’t tell her Seokjin and I were coming back,”

“What? Why?”

“I just didn’t want her to worry,” his long fingers grip the handle of his mug while he swirls the contents within it, “She’s already busy enough with work, and my coworkers I’ve returned to have done enough for me, and I don’t want her to feel like she needs to contribute anything,”

“That’s her choice to make you know. You’re her brother,”

“And I care for her a lot, too. Hence, why I refuse to stress her out regardless of my arrival,”

He’s always had this aura about him that you’ve admired since knowing him. The way he refuses to let his burdens be known to the people he loves- he doesn’t want to put anyone through the trouble that he feels they shouldn’t go through. He’s so young with so much to learn, but yet, he is the one that you look up to the most, physically and figuratively, “You’re a good man, Kim Namjoon,” you coo, “Since when did you grow up so fast?”

Tilting his head, he leans forward with a taunting smirk, “And since when did you start getting gray hair?”

Gasping, you grasp a bundle of hair between your fingers while your eyes widen at him, “You take that back!” You threaten, “Are you asking for me to dig your grave?” The laughter that builds between you two is much-needed medicine that you’ve been longing for, and as the playful banter simmers, he takes a bite of his food, dapping the napkin onto his lips before speaking,

“How about you, by the way? Is there a man whose ass I need to kick?”

Squinting at him, you carefully chew your food, “Plenty.”

Offering to pay the bill, he objects, you mentioning how his sister may be upset if she were to hear that, but you make it clear that you will treat him to a meal the next time you two are to hang out. The night falls quickly, the city lights distracting visions of the stars, yet Namjoon leads you to the direction of your home, making jokes on how you never seem to break rules- or, at least, ever since you’ve gotten “old.”

When the city continues to disappear behind both of you, his large hand gently grabs yours, “Follow me,”

“Hm, what? Where?”

“Must you always question everything? Now, come on,”

Muttering under your breath, you squeeze his hand in a way to show your trust, him spreading a wired fence while you squeeze through the opening, him turning to tangle the brush along the fence as if nothing has been disturbed. “Now, can you tell me where the hell we are?”

“Behind the library. Beyond that, passing the bus station is your home,”

“How-?” You can’t help the surprise, especially when your voice carries just enough to interrupt a couple lip-locked in the distance. You’re nearly floored when you recognize the coworker being LenLen while the male, she’s clinging to happens to have strands of blonde hair revealing the face of Min Yoongi. “Holy shit,” you whisper, though it’s dark enough for the couple to not be able to see who has disrupted their peace. They jog away from the scene, while Namjoon chuckles, you wondering how long this has been going on without the corporate’s knowledge, “How did you know about this shortcut?” You change the subject, gulping at the lump in your throat.

“Do you really want me to answer that,”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glare a suspicious look, “Oh?”

“Other than sneaking kisses to impress the ladies, I also taught Seokjin how to smoke cigarettes in high school,”

“Nam. Joon! You rascal!” You gape in surprise, “I’m telling Mom,”

“Aren’t you too old to tattle?”

“Oh, you smart ass-” He dodges your raising hand as you chase him down, “Come here you brute! Wait till I get my hands on you!” His joke brings you back to the exposed couple from earlier, which then gives you a steady reason on why you should keep your mouth shut- if anything, you are too old to dabble in drama- and if LenLen has finally found a lover who potentially will be her forever- then you will leave it as is, despite it being a work violation of dating someone within the workplace. When the jog slows to a steady pace, your home welcoming your sight, Namjoon speaks,

“Not sure if we ever get lunch breaks at the same time, but if so, you may need to remind me of all the restaurants around here,”

“Is that so?”

“Unless you want to avoid your promise on treating me,”

“How did you know?”

Eyes locking, chuckles reverberate into the breeze while he shakes his head at you, “I’m just kidding,” you finally say once you regain your senses, “Of course, I’d love to. Just text me every day when you start your lunch break. If there’s a time I happen to be heading to lunch too, then we will meet up. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nods, watching you sprint to type in the security code, you whirling around to wave goodbye while he returns the same gesture.

It’s crazy how beautiful you were before he left for America, and how you’ve remained with the same beauty inside and out as if he never truly left. Other than his family, your face never left his mind the moment he stepped off the plane- some may say it’s because your brother sat right beside him on the plane ride home – but, that’s not exactly the only reason.

Entering your room, your mother bombards you repeatedly with the same conversation on why you reek of alcohol, and why Jimin would let you take it too far. Openly admitting, you happened to be with someone else, your mother continues to pester on how you and Jimin need to find a compromise in order for marriage; how his family are known for their efficacious jobs, how they’re made of money, and that you would be a fool not to marry into his family. Making the excuse that you’re tired and ready for bed, she mumbles that you’re always tired, before departing your room.

Work comes with the presence of Taehyung telling everyone to go to lunch with him, all your female coworkers throwing excuses from left to right about how they can’t make it; which he demands you to join, your coworker Shai promising to tag along, so you won’t feel so alone.

Namjoon: 11:49am- Starting lunch, want to join?

Though you wish you could say yes, you avoid the text message. Following your coworkers into an elevator, surprised to discover Namjoon standing in the corner, realizing his job happens to be within the same corporation but deals with different topics. It’s awkward when your coworkers ask what food you’d like, which you say you’re not particularly picky, Namjoon shooting you a text in a tease of how your taste has even aged. You retort with a text saying to ‘Shut your yapper.’

A few days pass when you’re scheduled to visit another bakery within the city where Monnie sends you screenshots of Jimin’s Facebook page exposing that he has found another girlfriend- one he’s apparently been spoiling before his supposed trip to start a new life in Seoul. The pain seers through every inch of your chest, and it’s hard to recollect yourself enough to return to your job- admitting to yourself you probably missed spots that needed to be cleaned, yet the only tornado jumbling your thoughts are the haunting ones involving Jimin’s face- and the feelings of love you once had for him, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“According to one of the captions, she’s moving with him,” Monica exhales, “Because dating someone for a week means you should follow them all across Korea. Honestly, [Y/N], I bet this is all a show he’s putting on, or maybe he really has been cheating-”

It doesn’t take long until a recent post is made with the location of their current date- sneaking into the parking lot, you hastily find the valet, asking for the number matching the parking spot where Jimin’s flashy car glistens beneath the starry sky. You’re uncertain of this feeling you hold, but with the anger bubbling within your pounding heart, you know you can’t let this go. The way this girl on his page praises his every move, you even noticing how young she appears, and the lingering fact of him taking her to places you’d always begged him to take you. Nor the pictures he’s flaunting of her that he never once did when he was with you, nearly brings you into a stream of unwanted tears. With all you are, you know it’s not fair. And for that, he needs to pay.

The valet hands you the keys while you ploy your happiest smile. Stepping into Jimin’s car, you pull out the gooiest lip gloss you never use, planting it beneath the passenger side along with the tearing of black pantie hose you purchased from a convenience store on your way here; even laying out a semi-tattered bra you’ve been meaning to throw away, but instead relics beneath the back seat of Jimin’s car. Returning the keys to the valet, you thank them before hiding into the brush a distance away from Jimin’s car where you watch the whole scene play out before you. Watching the girl stampede away while confusion is etched in Jimin’s staggered expression, as his mouth remains agape, doesn’t leave you with the satisfaction you hoped to gain. Instead, you find yourself sitting across from your best friend, gulping down an alcoholic beverage, her moving the glass beside her when she sees the way your eyelids flutter.

“Shouldn’t you be rejoicing?” She questions, your chest feeling emptier than it had before you gained your buzz, “You got your revenge for goodness sakes!”

“Oomf,” you plop your head into your palms before rubbing them slowly along your face, “It’s not that. I mean, Jimin got what he deserved, but that’s not the reason I feel like shit,”

“Okay?” Mo shrugs, “Then, what is it? I know I’ve pestered about your needing of higher standards of men, but really, [Y/N], you deserve so much more than a player like that,”

“I just,” you lazily sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I really thought I knew what love was, you know?” You pause, “With Jimin, the way we met, and the way we clicked at first… I guess I just don’t understand where it all went wrong. Or, what made us fall apart… Maybe, we were never in love after all,”

“Let me ask you this,” your best friend leans forward, playing with a loose string from her sleeve, she tilts her head while she investigates your hazy stance, “What is true love?”

The question isn’t one to shock you; it’s one to make you think, really looking into the depths of your memories to a person you may have experienced love with, and as your eyes flicker upon her face, the answer becomes quite clear, especially when you lean back, the realization bringing the truth you never thought you’d find, “I… I-I don’t know,”

“Exactly,” Monnie points a quick index finger in your direction.

“I’ve never been in love,” you murmur, trying to make sense of this, and wishing you would have realized it sooner.

“If you were in love with Jimin, you would have left Busan behind in a heartbeat. And, if Jimin really had been in love with you, he would have settled for a distant relationship until you made your choice. So why couldn’t either of you find a compromise?”

“Because… we didn’t want to,”

“Because neither of you wanted to,” Monnie smiles deviously before sliding your glass back to your hand that curls around it instinctively, “Now, drink up,” she says, refilling your glass to the brim. Light giggling sounds for the next hour until Namjoon walks in with the intent of checking on his sister. It’s a surprise when he sees you occupying the seat across from her, and as he teases lightly at why Monnie let you get so wasted, she then asks him to give you a ride home.

His heart flutters at the thought of once again getting to spend time with you but he refuses to show it in the slightest; hugging onto Monnie tightly, you drunkenly plant numerous kisses upon her cheeks while she ushers you into the passenger side of Namjoon’s car- you uttering slurred words of songs you hope to karaoke to whenever you see your best friend again- her punching Namjoon’s shoulder for making a joke on who’s going to pay him for being your chauffeur which then prompts him to joke on how violent the two of you are.

Silence becomes too overwhelming while Namjoon keeps his focus on the road, yet all you can think about is how the alcohol hasn’t done its job in letting you forget about your breakup with Jimin. When tears stain your cheeks, Namjoon pulls over, leaving the car until your tears dry- not wanting you to feel embarrassed for crying in his company. Though he wishes nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he knows he can’t.

Your whines to why he stopped the car are what brings him back to the driver’s side, you falling asleep the rest of the way home while he lovingly stares at the peace on your slumbering face. The way your mouth hangs open, cuddled into the corner of the window, he can’t help how cute you look, pulling out his phone to snag a quick picture.

Forgetting his ringer happens to still be on, the sound of the camera jolts you awake, you groggily wiping at your mouth while glaring a hole through his head, “Did you just?”

“No,” Namjoon nearly drops his phone from being caught in the act, sliding lower into his seat as if to hide from you. Sitting up slowly, your eyes dazed from still overcoming your nap, you peer at him shadily,

“Yes, I did, I saw it,”

“Then, why did you ask?”

“I- Hand it over,” palm up, you reach over with the operation to delete the picture, chagrin flooding your features humorously of the thought of him using it against you by posting it on social media for all your mutuals to see.

Jumping out of the car, he can’t help but laugh at your tiny frame, yet again, chasing him down while he holds the phone high above his head. There’s no hope- you can’t reach it- but that doesn’t stop you from trying, “Namjoon, you better delete it, or-”

“Or what? If only you could reach it, then I’d let you win,”

“Oh,” you groan, pressing your forehead into his chest from the exhaustion of the exercise you didn’t plan on doing, “You do realize you are disparaging your elder, correct? My bones feel cracked now thanks to you, Legs,”

He can’t help the way he smiles at you, so wide, that he nearly catches himself, hoping that you will not notice the longing he has to tilt your chin up and plant a sweet kiss to your rosy lips. The rest of the walk to your home continues in spirited bickering- him refusing to delete the picture of you until you accept the fate- igniting the promise you will get him back eventually.

It’s hard for you to look away from him once you type in your security code- the strange jitters you have in your heart at the thought of parting from him- the feeling of missing him, though you know you will see him again. He smiles at you with the same dimpled grin he always gives when looking at you- waving goodbye, you trying to decipher these feelings you’ve never felt before.

The persistent thoughts soon leave, especially when greeted at work with the panic of finding out the contract has yet to be approved for the Jeons and the Jungs to open the new bakery together.

“I thought Taehyung said it would be taken care of?” Your eyes are frantic while you search LenLen’s- her hand running through her hair to then pressing her fingertips to her lips.

“He handed me the documents to give to Yoongi to sign for the approval. I don’t- I don’t understand how it wouldn’t have gotten signed- I highlighted the words for an immediate agreement.”

The tension you bury from the knowledge of LenLen and Yoongi’s relationship makes you think he would have gotten the papers considering it was a love interest who delivered them to him. Shaking your head, you briskly walk to his office, him immediately standing to his feet- numerous folders holding documents crowd his desk, “Hello, Mr. Min, I gather you’re doing well?”

His brown eyes seem alarmed, his shoulders tensing in your presence from the way you hold your stance, “Why, yes, yes I am,”

“And I’m assuming you know why I’m here?”

“Word- word gets around,”

“Mhm, I see,” you nod, though you refuse to cower, “So, did you or did you not receive a document regarding the franchise of the Jeons and the Jungs?”

When an ‘oh’ falls on his lips, his eyes enlarge in confusion which you can’t help, but furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his expression, “Mr. Min?”

“I thought- I thought you were referring to the coffee stain in the break room,”

You wish you could feel a hint of laughter upon this misunderstanding, but instead, you clear your throat while you wave away the reply, “No, Mr. Min, I am addressing the documents of approval in order for the Jeons and the Jungs to be able to open up the new bakery on the other side of town. Now, it has come to my attention that LenLen brought you the documents to sign?”

“Not-not to my knowledge,” he stammers, scratching at the back of his neck while sweat beads form along his forehead. In the end, the discussion results in Taehyung’s office, him harshly accusing the ordeal to be your fault, though you callously want to reveal LenLen and Yoongi’s affair being you have a theory as to why he wasn’t aware of the document. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Ultimately, you hope everything will get taken care of with the promise that it won’t happen again, LenLen texting you an apology for not double checking on whether Yoongi received the papers or not.

When faced with Seokjin, who continues to ask you for updates, just to be let down again- you can’t help the frustration building to the point you want to explode. It’s when the next day comes, and lunch break finally rolls around, that there’s only one person you want to see. Sending a quick text, Namjoon meets you at a local restaurant, one he happens to pick out, the sight of him bringing a breath of fresh air you desperately needed.

Just a dull, thin sweatshirt and jeans, yet he shines more than anyone else bustling on the streets. When the waitress seats both of you- each ordering- Namjoon makes a joke on if you’d want wine, of course, you wanting to object since you are working today, yet he teases the thought of you needing to break a rule already.

“You are just out to get me, aren’t you?” You say between slurps of your noodles.

“The day that I’m not is the day you should be worried,” he counters with a side grin poised upon his thick lips. Sitting back, he moves his sleeves to rest mid-arm while he continues to watch you.

“Worried? I think I’d throw a party,”

“What?” He gapes, “A party without the main attraction?” He jabs a thumb at himself, “We will see how many will even show up,”

“Must you always have the last word?”

You’re grateful he was able to join you for lunch, especially when he listens to your vague rant on the stress your job holds, walking with you to the elevator of your work building before the two of you part ways. When night comes, you clocking out to head to the bus station, you make your way out into the warm breeze, when the figure of a familiar face nearly knocks you off your feet, yet you stand firm, swallowing the lump in your throat until his steps halt before you.

“[Y/N],” Jimin’s eyes hold worry while he stares into your hardened gaze.

“Jimin,” you grit your teeth, biting back the foul words wanting to tumble off your tongue. You’re not surprised when he asks why you haven’t returned his calls, because, with every message he sends, you delete it, refusing to let him get to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we- can we go somewhere with fewer people?” He pleads which you directly decline. Initiating an argument, both of you are unaware of the gathering audience, standing behind the glass doors, watching the flustered pair of you whispering frustrations that sail off with the wind. LenLen and Shai happens to be two witnesses, joining them Namjoon, whose heart nearly breaks from the man, he can tell, will not leave your side unless you comply.

The rage is unsettling, especially with the way he sees you trying to break free from the man’s grip- prompting Namjoon to come to your rescue, wrapping his arm around you to free you from Jimin’s relentless remarks.

“What- what are you doing?” You whisper in surprise, swiping your hair from your vision while your widened eyes sweep along Namjoon’s unreadable face.

“I’m your boyfriend, okay? Act natural,”

You can hardly process what he’s trying to do, especially when Jimin becomes an object in the path causing you and Namjoon to pause in place.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jimin gestures a stiff digit toward Namjoon, whose jaw clenches in return, “Who is this?”

“I- uh- I- yes, I-” You stutter, uncertain on if you even heard Namjoon right to begin with. Did he just call himself your boyfriend? And, how come that sounds like such wonderful music to your ears?

“Pretty sure that’s my question to ask,”

Jimin’s taken aback, waving off Namjoon’s statement as if it’s useless, “I’m [Y/N]’s boyfriend, so, therefore, it’s my right to ask, you bastard,”

“Mm, is that so?” The tension is smothering especially when Namjoon takes a small step forward, his arm guarding you while he holds an angered glance- not breaking eye contact with Jimin whose shoulders slump with the slightest fear he doesn’t want to show. “If I were you, I would fuck off,”

“Excuse me? What the hell did you just say?”

“I said to fuck. Off,” Namjoon’s voice is thick with vile, your hand tightening around his wrist while you gulp over the pounding of your heart.

“Who are you telling to-”

“Unless you want to be reported to the cops for harassment, I would advise you to walk away,” it doesn’t take but a millisecond for Namjoon to slip out his phone, immediately calling his sister, unbeknownst to you and Jimin, Monnie’s voice in a panic when Namjoon continues talking over her as if he is speaking to the authorities. Jimin, reluctantly, scampers off- Namjoon repudiating to leave your side when you lower your glance, gradually walking in the direction of your home.

“Hey…” His voice is soft after a few minutes of silence- you’re so lost in your thoughts, it’s hard to distinguish the fog wanting to encompass your mind. When you don’t hear him at first, he merely pauses, placing his fingers underneath your chin in a manner to get you to face him. Meeting his eyes, there’s a concern there that you’ve never seen a man hold for you, and it takes you a second to fully understand it. “Talk to me,” he murmurs- his frame so close to colliding with yours in a warm embrace, you nearly give in.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to look away, but Namjoon tilts his head until your eyes meet again,

“Why are you sorry, [Y/N]? There is not a thing you have done wrong here,”

You sigh in exhaustion, wishing nothing more than to slip underneath your covers where you long for Namjoon to hold you, though you continuously deny it.

“[Y/N],” the way he says your name in such an eloquent whisper brings you to hushed tears, “I don’t think you realize how lucky you are. You could have married the man for the rest of your life, but you didn’t,”

Never thinking of it in that way, relief floods your senses when Namjoon reminds you that indeed, you are lucky, “Maybe, I shouldn’t have such bad taste in men,” you mutter, him chuckling at you before ghosting his fingers from your chin, giving you space enough to back away.

“Monnie and I have been saying the same exact thing for years, it’s about time you join our side,”

You nudge his arm with your knuckles while you glimpse at him with a hearty smirk, “Why do you make everything so much better?”

“Because I’m the best,”

His gloating is typical Namjoon- humorous, yet charming- causing contagious laughter the rest of the walk, leaving your heart with the subtle longing even when his presence leaves to return to his own home- you wishing nothing more than to follow him instead. Because for once, after years and years of knowing him, you ponder: he always finds a way to make your world brighter, even if he is nearly falling apart- it’s you who in return molds the halves of his heart together- signifying that there is something special – something that flickers the hope that maybe you do have feelings for him you have yet to admit.

It’s the meeting your work holds that ends with Shai timidly glimpsing at you here and there; your shoulders tensing especially with the rumored whispers of theories as to what was witnessed from the previous night with Jimin. Scattering bodies heading in different directions to their office leaves a lingering Shai behind in your presence, still feeling her stare while you compile your things to carry,

“Shai, I appreciate the recognition of the makeup I actually put on today, but is there a reason why you’re acting strange?”

Caught off guard, her mouth becomes agape, her cheeks reddening while she keeps her eyes panning the table, “I just have a question, um, so you know the man from last night?”

“Yeah?” You drag out the word slowly, shoulders rigid as you’re uncertain as to which man she could be referring to.

“Not-not your ex, but-but the tall one,”

Nodding, you bite the corner of your lip, urging her to continue whatever point she’s trying to make,

“Are you interested in him?”

The question hasn’t been asked of you, though you’ve realized you have spent a lot of time with Namjoon ever since his return from America. Why you feel so cornered, you can’t quite pinpoint? Because is it wrong to say no when in fact, it’s possible?

“Well, if not, it’s okay for me to, you know, ask him out, right?” She proceeds to ask if he’s single- waiting for your confirmation as if that’s information you would happen to know. She offers to help carry your things to your office once you answer her question with a terse nod- giving her permission to talk to Namjoon, though it’s not really your place.

As if the day couldn’t get any ‘worse’, or in a better term, ‘annoying’, Taehyung invites the staff to another luncheon, this time involving alcoholic beverages, him getting tipsy enough to subtly make a rude joke toward you. Though you’ve grown used to him over the years, you’ve learned how to tolerate him despite the gossip from the women of the workplace who deem you his favorite due to the fact you handle his demises. After the gathering ends, he proceeds to invite everyone to a karaoke bar not far away- all the women making excuses, in which you make mention you have a lot of work to finish.

“It’s not like you have a man waiting on you at home, come on, let’s go,” he counters- Shai standing beside him helpless while she watches your expression harden in offense.

“I’m pretty sure I never refused to go even when I was in a relationship,” you retort, rendering him speechless, leading him to shove his hands in his pockets out of discomfort. Prancing away with your head held high, you stop to purchase a few of your favorite beers before entering the work building. Stunned the moment you recognize the slim legs of Namjoon who you figure has gotten out of work late.

“Namjoon? It’s late, what are you still doing here?” The happiness exuberating from your smile flickers a hope you can’t bring yourself to ignore.

“Boss had me doing a few extra things, but what are you doing back at the office? Isn’t today your half day?”

“Ah,” you shake your head, “I know, but I still have a few notes I must finish. Also, times I need to schedule to evaluate more bakeries… Are you doing anything later?” Wanting to be in his company is the first thing on your mind, yet your face falls in disappointment when he mentions he has plans.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to the club tonight. Seokjin called asking if I’d like to go with him and Hoseok,”

Curse you, Seokjin, you cringe mentally, but you put on your best smile in an effort to hide the pathetic hope you can’t believe you’re feeling.

“Oh, I see, planning to pick up a few ladies?” You say the word as if it’s a song, though you want to regurgitate at even saying out loud. Shrugging his shoulders, a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth,

“I have plenty of those, so no,”

In your mind, you know it’s just a light-hearted joke, so why does it hurt to think of him with another woman? Fresh out of a relationship, and yet, you’re upset about a childhood friend wanting to mingle with women with the possibility of finding the one, he will marry. When his phone begins to ring, he gives you an apologetic glance which you return with a nod of understanding, Parting ways, he stares after you while you power walk to the elevator, him unaware of your eyes turning to stare at his back while he heads out of the building.

When in the realm of safety, called your office, you switch on music from your favorite KPOP band letting the music flow through the room. A buzz forms after you gulp the first beer, swaying your body with the music. Namjoon, can’t bring himself to leave, and last minute, he texts your brother and Hoseok, canceling for the evening, not revealing the reason out loud that his heart wants to be planted right next to yours.

The elevator seems to be against him, especially with how slow it rises to your floor, him exiting the moment the doors open. Rounding a corner, his eyes scan the glass windows until he sees your silhouette- twirling around the room, flipping your hair from side to side, completely lost in your own little world- oblivious to the now smiling Namjoon whose heart dances with joy overcoming his countenance at seeing you frolic among the room.

There’s the woman he’s fallen so deeply in love with, and there’s the woman, he one-day hopes, he will hold in his arms for the rest of his life. Besides, one would find it blatantly obvious, as an outsider looking in, especially with the shiny smile plastered upon Namjoon’s face that he is irrevocably entranced by the soul, being you, dancing from side to side unaware to his presence outside your office walls. There is no one like you- there has never been anyone like you in his eyes- someone who he’s secretly admired from afar for all these years but remains to bury his feelings for the fear of what you would say. What your family would say. What his sister would say.

While you continue sashaying to the rhythm of the song echoing in your office, Namjoon disappears out of sight from the glass windows to dial your number. When the screen lights up with his name, you have the inkling to answer, but deciding to ignore it, you whirl around to sway your hips to the beat wondering why he would be calling with the supposed plans he has with your brother. It doesn’t take but a second before you hear a voice overpower the pounding music,

“Why aren’t you taking my call?”

Your heart, as if on cue, thrums whilst a look of shock overwhelms your expression, prompting you to hide at first in embarrassment before rising gradually to face Namjoon who is stifling a laugh while waving slowly to greet you.

“Kim Namjoon! What the hell are you doing here?” You simulate as though you’re annoyed, but the joy of his arrival isn’t something you necessarily want to admit, for you too, have the uncertainty on how to explain the way he’s stirring such feelings you’ve never considered before. With his sly smile, he repeats the question that interrupted your distraction from “work”, but you won’t let him win this argument that easily, “Excuse me, sir, I was working until you decided to intrude on my vibe,”

“Vibe? Is that what the cool kids are saying these days?”

The offensive gape you glare amuses him that you can’t help but boop his smirk with your fingertips- chasing him down with the threat of catching him, yet he zigs zags through your office effortlessly without even an ounce of exhaustion. When the unexpected arrival of a drunken Shai echoes within the hallways, the panic that overwhelms you is enough to shove Namjoon to hide behind one of the bookcases aligning the wall far enough to where Shai may not notice. Namjoon, who is unaware of Shai’s attraction to him, you suppress the thought while you usher her to take a seat, swiping her hair out of her face while tears stream down her cheeks,

“Shai? What’s going on?” When you remember Taehyung, along with Min Yoongi, and other coworkers had an alcoholic planned evening, your heart pangs with guilt for leaving Shai alone. She silences the moment she recognizes the knowledge behind your almond eyes, “It’s Taehyung, isn’t it?”

She nods quickly, keeping her head lowered, fiddling her fingers while her hazy eyes sweep along her tense lap, “He wouldn’t stop talking about my sister and how she broke his heart,”

“Damnit,” you whisper, knowing very well Namjoon is uninformed of the mean words Taehyung flaunts toward you every now and then due to his personal pent up anger. Though you decided not to attend the event tonight, you highly regret having Shai fend for herself. “Shai, I’m so sorry,”

“It’s not like anyone will stand up to him. He literally insults you about your break up with Jimin all the time, yet you let him,” you know she’s intoxicated, especially with the way her words slur, but despite her state of mind, you know what she’s saying is right. Namjoon’s chest fumes with anger at what he’s hearing- wishing nothing more than to approach your boss with the sheer intention of slamming his knuckles into his face; but, for the sake of your job, he knows you may be angry with him if he were to jeopardize that. “And,” Shai presses her fingers to her forehead, “LenLen apparently couldn’t come pick me up because she had some business to attend to. I asked Yoongi about it, but he was no use,”

“Yoongi?” From the way Shai talks, it seems as if she is aware about the relationship you accidentally stumbled upon. When she slowly meets your gaze, her eyes scream that she may have said too much, but you politely urge her to continue, “Yoongi would know about LenLen’s whereabouts?”

“Shit,” Shai sighs, “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,”

“Anyone what?”

It’s a strange way that she changes the subject, bringing up Jimin which you are not happy about, leading you to stand to your feet while frantically ushering her out of your office, “I know you were in love with him,” she whines, “So why do you let Taehyung make fun of you for it when my sister dumped him-”

“Let’s be clear,” your hands squeeze her shoulders, “I was not in love with Jimin,”

The tension that had consumed Namjoon’s shoulders from the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name eases into relief at your words. The hope he has to one day tell you how he feels finally comes into view, which he dismisses for now. Once you finally force her into a taxi, her mumbling her adoration for you-you jog with as much speed that you can gather, return to your office to unlock Namjoon from the trap you didn’t mean to set. He watches you from the window at how adorable you look running across the parking lot- all with the excitement of returning to his rescue- he can’t help himself but throw subtle teases at you for ‘taking so long’ which you reiterate with comments saying ‘well if I would have known you were going to be that way, I would have strolled with the speed of a snail.’

He walks you home as he normally does, refusing to let you be alone at night. He can’t help but bring up the conversation he overheard about the knowledge of your coworkers.

“LenLen doesn’t know that I know,” you confess, running a cold hand through your hair. You cuddle further into your trench coat, wishing the breeze would bring warmth to your aching frame. “In the end, I don’t care if they’re dating, it’s just if the company were to find out, it may not end well for either of them,”

“Yet,” Namjoon tilts his head while his eyebrows furrow, “Taehyung can harass women on multiple occasions and get away with it?”

A sigh of shame escapes past your pouting lips, shaking your head at the truth you wish wasn’t real, but it very much is, and without realizing, you inch closer to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours, bringing a coziness you’ve needed. “He hasn’t touched anyone inappropriately whatsoever; he just has a mouth he can’t control when he’s angry,”

“Still doesn’t make it right,”

“I know,” you wince knowing that not any excuse will make this situation any better.

“I can call and file a complaint. I’m pretty sure it’s anonymous,”

“No!” You gasp, lowering your voice once you realize the volume you held for that split second, “I can- I can handle this on my own,”

“If that’s the case, then how long has this been going on?”

Pausing, you don’t really want to answer because you know how protective Namjoon can be- you’ve seen it with his sister, and with how he became at the presence of Jimin- you will not be surprised if his protective instincts arise if you were to admit it. Instead, you mildly change the subject, “I just- I tolerate it okay? And this whole ordeal at work has been strange anyway. With Yoongi and LenLen dating and not completing documents that Yoongi needed to sign- to the moth infestation at JiWoo’s Café. It just- it reminds me of the time a few years ago when Jeon’s Bakery went through similar instances… Taehyung almost lost his mind to the point he nearly fired the whole staff,”

“I remember Monnie telling me about it. She said she’s never seen you so stressed out in her life,”

“Yeah,” your laugh is breathy, but in an exasperated sense while you shake your head at the memory you have tried to forget about, “the Jeons’ nearly lost their business, but I refused to let it happen.”

“Did you ever consider foul play?”

The thought hadn’t necessarily occurred to you, it’s been years since everything happened, but the survival of Jeon’s Bakery thankfully lives on. When the conversation dies, leaving minds fogged with deep thoughts is the moment you realize you’re nearing your home- Namjoon respecting the fact of not pressing the subjects any further. Freshening up for the evening, the gentle recall of his face smears your mind while you press a plush towel to dry your face; you reach for your phone almost instantly to wish him a good night. If only you could see how giddy he becomes at receiving your message, cuddling into his covers with nothing but the anticipation of getting to see you the next day.

And, if only, he could tell you that.

The following morning, he arises in preparation for work, leaving his apartment to find his sister doing the same, “What are you doing up so early, you ham?”

With a swift roll of the eyes, he waltzes to her side, joining her with the offer of dropping her off at her job, “What do you think? I’m not dressed to impress for the hell of it,”

Eyeballing him, she punches his arm while he fakes pain, Monnie knowing good and well, her punch didn’t have as much impact as it could, “Watch your tone with me, Peasant.” Stepping into his car, she buckles into the passenger side, making herself comfortable before speaking up once more, “Besides, I’m surprised you’re even capable of awakening at such an ungodly hour. Didn’t you just party the night before?”

“Is that what you think I’ve been up to? Since when has your brother been deemed a slacker?”

“Oh, are you really gonna go there?”

The bickering transitions to the mention of Namjoon hardly ever being at home, which Monnie ponders the question on why he can’t just live with her, being the two can save on rent, “Can’t you just respect my privacy?”

Suspicion crosses his sister’s sneer while she raises an eyebrow, “Privacy. Since when does one avoid his sister like the plague without a reason to claim why they need privacy?” You appear on his mind because when is there a time that you’re not on Namjoon’s mind? A tender smile tugs at the corner of his lips which Monnie observes almost immediately, “There’s a girl isn’t there?”

“Which one?”

Grasping Namjoon’s earlobe, Monnie pulls at it, causing Namjoon to panic, “I’m driving! I am driving!”

“And?” She ultimately lets go, turning to face the windshield while droplets of rain become evident on the glass, “Speaking of a girl, do you know how freaked out I was when you called me pretending to be [Y/N]’s boyfriend? I seriously thought Jimin was going to kick your ass,”

“Hmph,” Namjoon switches his hold on the steering wheel, unintentionally pressing down on the gas pedal, “I’m pretty sure that was the least of my worries,”

“Jimin has a history of self-defense classes, I wouldn’t completely dismiss it,”

‘Yeah, but he doesn’t know what I’d do if it means protecting her,’

“And while we’re on the topic,” Monnie waves a quick index finger, “if you ever bring home a snotty thot, I will suffocate you both with my bare hands,”

Namjoon shakes his head at his relentless sister though he knows she has not an idea of his undying crush on her best friend, “But… What if she’s attractive?”

“Can’t be more attractive than I,” Monnie gloats, tracing a finger to place a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What did you say? I think my ears have gone deaf,”

Monnie captures his earlobe tightly within her grip once again, Namjoon pleading sorry until she lets go, “Mhm, about to mute that mouth of yours while I’m at it,”

Another meeting takes place the second your clicking heels sound within the workplace, you retrieve your notes before taking a seat before Taehyung whose lips close in a firm line. The rest of your coworkers file in, hardly making eye contact, and with this meeting not being on the schedule, you’re anxious to know what caused such a last-minute gathering. When pictures of Jiwoo’s Café appear on the monitor above, your mouth drops while your eyes scan each picture. Water has flooded every inch of the place, ruining some of the storage from what you can tell, and though your eyebrows crease with the thought that maybe pipes have busted- you notice in the corner of the photo that the sink had been left running all night. Worry consumes you, especially with the thought of your brother and Hoseok, whom you know were out clubbing last night without a care in the world.

“It would be one thing if this situation was not preventable,” Taehyung folds his hands before him in an ill manner, “But, clearly, it was. And the food cost on top of the cost to get everything cleaned? We’re talking thousands.”

LenLen doesn’t appear as nervous as she had before which you take a mental note of. With her in charge of the store, shouldn’t she at least show some concern? Taehyung continues with his angered rant, threatening to fire someone as he always likes to do, which you choose to ignore, happy to leave once the meeting is over when LenLen and Shai invite you to join them for lunch. The conversation about the frustration with Taehyung is vague, but you assure the two that you will get to the bottom of this when you can, though you can’t help but wonder why your brother never contacted you about the scenario. Stepping into the restaurant, you’re taken by surprise when you notice Namjoon, who is sitting across none other than Jung Hoseok, who is leaned forward, pressing Namjoon to set him up with Shai which you are unbeknownst of. When greeting the gentlemen, you decide to not ask Hoseok about the mini flooding being you’re off the clock as well as he. Namjoon and Hoseok stand to their feet, telling all three of you to take a seat. An uneasy feeling settles at the bottom of your stomach, leaving a sour taste in your mouth once you notice Shai timidly flicking glimpses in Namjoon’s direction. And, not making it to your knowledge, Hoseok kicks at Namjoon’s foot under the table with the hopes of him conniving on gaining Shai’s attention.

“So,” Namjoon prepares his noodles with the goal of consuming them, but with Hoseok playing footsies, he decides to break the tension, “Where are you from?”

Shai pauses mid-chew, scouring for a napkin to dab her face, “Are you talking to me?”

She wasn’t the only one who stopped mid-chew at Namjoon’s sudden question- your eyes peering at the overly excited girl with the denial that you’re not sure how you feel about her. LenLen remains quiet- solely concentrating on her bowl of noodles in front of her.

“I’m from the city originally, but now, I reside in Busan of course. Alone,” Cringing at what Shai is trying to hint, you barely notice Hoseok immediately jumping at her answer, though she returns the question to Namjoon, “What about you?”

“Sangdo-dong, but moved to Busan with my family at a young age,” Namjoon’s mouth is full of food at this point, but Hoseok isn’t about to give up,

“I live across town in Busan,” his dimples show with his determined grin, “Alone,”

Choking on some broth you slurped, you bury your mouth into the crook of your arm while Namjoon pats your back in a way to calm you, “You alright, [Y/N]?” Taking a moment to recuperate, you nod toward a concerned Namjoon, clearing your throat in an attempt to suppress the tickle.

It’s later that evening when you approach your brother, anxiety apparent upon his face and frame as he paces back and forth within the living room, “So, do you want to explain what happened at work last night?”

Seokjin huffs, leaning his head back while slamming his eyes shut, “[Y/N], I swear to you, Hoseok and I always do a sweep of the store before leaving. I swear to God the sink was off,”

Crossing your arms, you carefully lean against the wall, not letting Seokjin get off so easily if he’s fibbing, “Were there a lot of dishes or something?”

With wide eyes, Seokjin whips his head to stare at you incredulously, “No, we’re not a restaurant, we’re a café, meaning we serve finger foods and desserts, why the hell would we have a lot of dishes?”

“I don’t know! For all I know, the café was busy yesterday! And we’ve already discussed protocol on storing items properly, so what gives, Jin!?”

“Look, I’m just as mind blown as you are. Also, the flour was stored correctly- Hoseok just didn’t have the balls to admit that he doesn’t know how they got moved,” Seokjin’s confession does pang surprise, your hands folding across your chest while trying to make sense of it, “I actually googled if there was a horror story that happened at JiWoo’s Café because how else can I explain to corporate about the sink randomly turning on in the middle of the night?”

Your fingers press against your lips that are pursed in concentration, “Because it didn’t,” you murmur.

The ring of the doorbell jolts you and Seokjin out of your conversation, him sharing a look with you before prodding to the guest bedroom. Overall, you know corporate is going to take care of the water issue regardless, so ultimately there isn’t much to worry about, but the gnawing feeling that something just doesn’t sit right with you seems to bring your suspicions back to light.

Upon opening the door, your eyes widen in sheer incredulity at a nervous Jimin, dressed in a snug tuxedo, who’s lips are quivering with what to say.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” Teeth clenched from the anger boiling within your system, Jimin’s eyes widen with panic as he raises a hand as if to stop you.

“Please [Y/N], hear me out,”

“Hear what out? Clearly, you do not understand the process of a breakup, do you?”

“Listen, just give me a chance to take you to dinner. Let me explain myself-”

“Good night,” his hand stops the door from shutting and with the strength you know he holds, you no longer feel the need to fight; and from the desperate way his eyes flicker between yours, the seriousness behind them unwillingly convinces you to join him, “I just want to make things right, again, just-just please,” Maybe for once he will indeed explain himself; maybe even apologize for making you feel so low all because of a long distance relationship he refused to try; or, maybe he will admit to cheating on you, although you’re highly confident he had been with how fast he seemed to move on. Lost in thoughts, the sight of a familiar restaurant peeks into view, your mouth falling open while your eyes widen disbelievingly.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mouth, turning to face Jimin who’s eyes sweep outside the car and back,

“What? Do you not like it here?”

It’s not just a restaurant you know all too well; it’s the restaurant- the one specifically raising the memory of a tattered bra, red lipstick and black stocking used to the advantage of Jimin’s second breakup, “Have you been here before?” It’s a trick question, one Jimin does not seem to pick up on, but he’s smart enough to not answer you with his most recent event regarding this restaurant.

“Yeah, with coworkers forever ago. The food here is pretty decent, but, I-I, we can go somewhere else if you’d li-”

“It’s whatever,” Fumbling with unbuckling your seatbelt, the anger is burning hot upon your chest- you could scream, you could cry, you could pull your own hair out with how inconsiderate a man can be. Bringing an ex-girlfriend to the same restaurant he recently brought another woman- how is that okay? Evidence continues to pile, especially when the waiter greets with a ‘Welcome back’, one Jimin awkwardly dismisses.

“Forever ago, huh?” Gulping, Jimin steps ahead of you while you follow him to the numerous tables- you precisely pick out the table Jimin had sat with the last woman a week ago, you ask the waiter if that’s okay which he nods. Settling down, you fold your arms across your chest once you hang your purse on the back of your chair- Jimin scrambling to unfold the menu which covers half of his face.

“Everything sounds good tonight. I wonder what we should order,” Jimin purposely keeps his attention on the menu to avoid the daggers you’re glaring into his skull. Tilting your head, you set your jaw, tightening your already folded arms in irritation,

“Cut to the chase, Jimin. Why did you come to my house? Aren’t you leaving for Seoul soon?”

His fingers grip tighter onto the menu, his eyes peek nervously at you before wetting his lips, “Uh, can we, uh, order first?”

“Okay then,” you lean forward, clasping your fingers together, eyes refusing to leave his tense frame, “Let’s have what you’ve ordered recently,”

“I-I haven’t been here recently,” Jimin still scanning the menu- the screech of your chair surprises him to the point the menu falls from his hands, you hovering above him with a taunting sneer, “I’m going to use the restroom,” Any excuse that leads you to dial your best friend’s phone number is the ultimate excuse. The moment you hear Monnie’s voice over the line, it soothes you enough while you force a long sigh,

“Are you kidding me right now? Jimin showed up again?” The muffled sound of a car is heard over the line which you assume to be a taxi, except it’s not a taxi, it’s Namjoon, who’s ears tune in when he overhears Jimin’s name.

“You won’t even believe where we are right now,”

“What I don’t understand is why you’re even wasting your time with him. Have you ordered wine yet?”

“…No?”

“Water will have to do. Pour it over his head and leave!” Namjoon’s smirk is hidden in the evening, Monica’s attention remaining ahead of her where the streetlights glisten beneath the moon, it’s what she says next, that nearly shatters Namjoon’s heart to smithereens, “Wait a minute, what did you just say? You’ll see how it goes? [Y/N], whatever he has to say is bull shit. Do you plan on seeing him again?” Eventually hanging up the phone, Namjoon’s knuckles are white from the grip upon the steering wheel, Monnie rambling about the news she has just received, “Jimin showed up again, I swear he needs to let her go,”

“Does she not see what he’s trying to do? Why does she keep giving in to him?” Jutting his jaw, his eyebrows furrow, his concentration on the road becoming hard with the irritation he withholds.

“Well, it’s not like she can help it. The asshole keeps showing up without her permission,”

“She just needs to learn to stand up for herself. She just lets men walk all over her like it’s nothing,”

“Calm down, Joon, I’m sure she’s not going to give him another chance,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Confused, she turns to face her brother, wondering why he’s getting so worked up over her best friend- though she wants to ask out loud, she decides against it, more worried about their safety with him driving more than anything.

Pained silence still has a hold at the dinner table, the waiter placing you and Jimin’s meals before each of you, yet your stiff digits can’t even fold suitably around the fork. Instead, you observe Jimin, who clears his throat before taking a sip of his wine- him mirroring the same rigidity. Shaking your head slowly, his shoulders slump, because he knows it’s now or never- and he knows the only reason you’re here is because of the promise of him explaining himself. When a few more minutes pass, the quiet is filled with a clinging fork against his plate before dropping it onto the napkin.

“I turned down the promotion. I’m not leaving Busan,”

“What!?” Gasping, that is the last thing you want to hear, in fact, you stand to your feet, shuffling for Jimin’s phone, “What do you mean you turned them down!? Call them back! Tell them you’re just kidding!”

“[Y/N], I can’t do that right now, they’re closed! Don’t you want to work things out? I thought this would be the best! For me, and for you!”

“Work things out?” Still handing his phone towards him, he stares up at you in apparent shock which shows he did not expect your reaction to be like this, “How come me not leaving Busan was such a sin when we were together? And working things out? You want to work things out in the same place you brought another woman?” Realization dawns his entire expression, his eyes glued to the table while his thick lips poise in surprise before his eyes trail to lock with yours- he’s speechless because he knows he’s been caught, and you’re not done with what you’ve kept buried within your heart, “Oh, what, you gonna press charges against me? Cause if so, I can do more to add to them,” your fingers curl around the shaft of the wine bottle, Jimin throwing his hands up in defense,

“[Y/N]!”

Fingers slipping to return to your side, you attempt to calm yourself for a moment, realizing maybe assault is not such a good idea, “Originally,” you sigh, “I wanted us to be civil. But you’re so deceitful. And,” you throw your purse over your shoulder, “I would take my advice and call your job back. Seoul has plenty of women for you to fish for,”

Stomping out of the restaurant, you’re taken aback when a strong hand whips you around- Jimin’s frantic, yet you stare at him- air escaping your agape mouth into the icy weather.

“It’s not entirely my fault!” His voice raises,

“Excuse me!?”

“Who was that guy you were with the other day?”

“Wow,” you look away, wishing with all your heart Namjoon was by your side, but that’s not something you will reveal, especially not in front of Jimin.

“See!? I’m not the only one who cheated! You were seeing someone else too! Can’t we just say we both are at fault and move past it? Why are you making me the bad guy!?”

“You know what?” You murmur- gathering your bearings, swallowing the lump in your throat while you cuddle more into your coat. He just admitted he cheated on you- something he’s lied about countless times before, and at this point, you’ve been given enough proof. You can’t do this anymore, and the truth is you don’t want to- he’s done enough, and you’ve had enough, “Jimin, it isn’t your fault. It’s mine,”

When his expression softens, he inches forward, but stops abruptly the moment you finish your statement,

“I’m the one to blame for dating you in the first place.”

Crying isn’t something you typically do, not in this case, and the march home seemed much longer than usual. Tossing and turning all night, you force yourself to get ready for work, going through the same routine of taking the bus, heels clicking into the work building to see Hoseok, coffee in hand, conversating with Namjoon along with a smiling Shai while they’re waiting for the elevator to be available. Hoseok must have picked up a temporary job for the time being until his parents’ café is back in business; and, little do you know, Namjoon’s heart still weighs heavy at the knowledge of you being with Jimin last night. He can’t stop himself, continuing to ask Shai questions upon where she resides, her mentioning a pizza place to which they should visit sometime.

Jealousy rears its ugly head when you grimace at Shai asking for Namjoon’s number, Hoseok immediately grabbing her phone to put his first before handing it to Namjoon. Your eyes remain focused on your cellular device the entire time to the point you almost miss Namjoon’s invite to come with them. He’s visibly hurt when you retort that you didn’t hear him, sauntering off the elevator with Shai trailing behind you. Taehyung isn’t in a good mood which you’ve expected, and he sends everyone on a wild goose chase about another bakery that apparently hasn’t been open for a few days, except he asks for LenLen and Yoongi to stay behind- something that catches you off guard. Shoving the questions subconsciously, you and Shai squeeze into one of the vans when the ring of her phone causes your ears to perk up.

Why are you so angry when you hear Namjoon’s name slip off Shai’s lips? And why do you feel so territorial when it comes to him? Shai cancels plans with him from what you’re gathering, apologizing to him repeatedly. If only you were aware of Hoseok’s ear is pressed to the back of Namjoon’s phone- fussing at him to tell Shai that the two have time this evening to accompany her- Namjoon shrugging off Hoseok’s desperation, wishing he could just be with you instead.

“What happened to the approval that was supposed to be signed?” Taehyung’s eyes steadily observe the employees before him- shoulders tensing while LenLen carefully chews her spoonful of rice. Yoongi raises his head slowly, turning to her with nervous eyes.

“They didn’t make it to Yoongi’s desk,” LenLen’s curt smile could fool anyone, yet she remains unphased, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim.”

“Is there a reason why they didn’t make it to his desk?”

Yoongi’s heart thuds, wondering if Taehyung is suspicious upon his relationship with LenLen. Never in his life has he been so enchanted by a woman as much as he has her- and, he remembers, despite the confusion, of her saying not to worry about the papers- setting them aside before she distracted him with devious kisses. How he forgot about the documents is something he will take with him to his grave, yet he could have sworn they remained on his desk even after she left his office.

“I must have misplaced them,” LenLen’s voice lowers, digging another spoonful of her meal to distract herself from the way Taehyung’s eyes sweep her fidgety fingers.

Exhaustion seeps through every bit of your limbs- offering to take the van back to work while your coworkers bid you a good night. The moment you park, you’ve fought to keep your eyelids open the entirety of the drive, slumping into your seat before slumber takes over. Namjoon has worked yet another late shift, ambling to his car to notice someone sleeping in one of the company vans. Recognizing it to be you, he watches while you’re leaned against the car door peacefully, mouth slightly ajar, and he longs for a day where he can wake up next to you- your pinned hair frilly from the touch of the pillow, while the bed covers bundle underneath your chin. Just the thought of your almond eyes fluttering to find him- corners crinkling from the smile that will fill your lips.

Waking up, you return loose strands of hair behind your ear before embarrassment knocks on your door at the discovery of Namjoon who is now giggling at your widening eyes. “Oh, no,” you moan, pressing your head onto the steering wheel, the honk of the horn causing Namjoon to lean back. Of course, his presence includes an evening out to dinner, the two of you ordering your meals- holiday lights dazzling outside the tiny restaurant.

Running his chopsticks along his food, Namjoon swallows in frustration at the memory of last night, Monnie later informing him that Jimin isn’t planning on leaving Busan. Wanting to ask you about it, he does- his tone sounding a tad bit harsh compared to what he was intending, “So, I hear that asshole isn’t leaving Busan after all,”

“That asshole?”

“Ah,” Namjoon lays his chopsticks onto the napkin next to his plate, leaning back in his chair, “Am I supposed to be respectful considering the way he treats you? Or the fact that he’s your boyfriend again,”

“What?” You murmur, though it’s hardly audible- your folded arms slipping from the table while you investigate Namjoon’s stern gape. “Is that what Monnie said? That I’m dating him again?”

“Well… No,”

“Okay, then what is the problem? I don’t understand why you just jumped to a conclusion like that,”

“Because maybe you have a hard time telling him to back off,”

“And is that any of your business?” Silence takes hold upon the tension while Namjoon lowers his head, biting the corner of his lip in culpability.

“I just heard about it all last night, okay?”

“Then that’s something you should have approached me about first before accusing that asshole of being my boyfriend,”

Namjoon finds joy in hearing you curse Jimin’s name, but he knows now that he did approach the subject inappropriately, “Hey,” his voice softens, your lips falling in a saddened frown before meeting his eyes, “I’m really sorry for upsetting you,”

Huffing quickly, you nod your forgiveness, Namjoon awkwardly taking a swig of his beer. The sound of water droplets on the rooftop of the joint prompts Namjoon to turn his head to face the window- eyes flickering around the atmosphere while you take in how handsome he is. Gentle brown eyes shiny against his tanned skin, his full lips parted with the amazement of nature outside, while the line of his jaw sends a desire that causes you to look away.

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, “You have an umbrella, right?”

Peering up at him, you shake your head leisurely, cringing when you remember that you left it at home, “It’s okay, I’ll just walk home in the rain. I’m used to it,”

“But why would you do that?”

The comment rolls off your tongue before you can stop yourself, “You upset me so much that maybe I need it to cool me off,” you take a shot of your beer, keeping your eyes peeled in a direction away from Namjoon’s jaw falling open.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“No,” you shrug, pouring some more beer into your glass, a smile of annoyance planted on your face, “I should be apologizing for you missing your date with Shai,”

“I invited you to join. You’ll come, correct?”

“And what makes you think I should? I don’t necessarily feel like being a third wheel,”

A subtle smirk pulls at the corner of Namjoon’s lips because seeing how you’re reacting to the idea of him being with Shai ignites a hope that maybe you do have feelings for him. Something he’s been dying to gain since returning home from America, “Why would you feel like a third wheel? Maybe I wanted you to be my date,”

“Oh, don’t start with your sarcasm. I’ve seen Shai, and you’re not the only guy who goes smitten over her. I get it, she’s pretty, but is appearance all that matters to the male population!? Goodness, men are-”

“You’re prettier,” Mid-sip of your alcohol, you nearly choke, especially when the words leave Namjoon’s mouth, making your heart flutter in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time. He timidly avoids further conversation while you pat at your loose strands, him paying for the meal before the two of you step outside. A storm brewed during the dinner to the point the rain is panging heavier than when it started.

“Shit,” you whisper, dreading the idea of walking in the rain though you made mention of being used to it. Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate, telling you to remain under the awning of the restaurant while he sprints to the nearest convenient shop. You gape after him, tilting your head wondering what he has up his sleeve. The ding of the door alerts the employees of yet another presence, Namjoon’s hands scrambling along the umbrella rack- originally picking out two just to return one to the rack, a tight-lipped grin planted upon his face. Once the purchase has been made, he returns to your side- your eyes showing the confusion that he’s holding only one open umbrella, “Why just one?” You laugh, Namjoon gesturing for you to step closer while he holds the umbrella higher, “Aren’t we going to get soaked?”

Both turning in the direction of your home, it’s unexpected the way Namjoon’s expression glows, “I think I have a way to fix that problem,” his arm drapes around your waist; he pulls you much closer to his side showing a perfect way to prevent rain from drenching the pair of you. You’re astonished, but in the most glorious way, you can even imagine, his warmth smothering your chest with giddiness- rain pouring on all sides, yet the smiles upon both of your faces light the world much brighter than even the orange streetlights decorating the paths.

“Want to call a cab?” He peers down at your tiny frame- something he made a joke about earlier where you fended for yourself claiming you’re of average height. His question stirs a mild panic, because for once, the walk in the rain isn’t so bad, especially with the way Namjoon’s arm remains planted around you, your head cuddling into the side of his chest after both of your steps cease.

“No,” you tenderly reply, “I think I want to keep walking… With you,”

There’s a magic in the air that outsiders could feel even a mile away from the couple embraced underneath the crying night. Even when you make it to your doorstep, Namjoon insists on watching until you’re safely inside- him gifting you the black umbrella that you reluctantly accept, thanking him for the evening. His trip home ponders him to settle onto his bed, gazing at the picture he never deleted from when he first watched you fall asleep.

A misunderstanding does fall into place the next evening- one where Shai receives a text from Namjoon in regards of the pizza plans that happened to be missed the day before. You, being informed of it by Shai, pauses, wondering how such a great night with Namjoon could shatter your heart in just 24 hours of time. Unaware, Namjoon has made plans with your brother, bailing out last minute with Shai who is walking alongside Hoseok- expression falling in disappointment at the knowledge that Namjoon will not be attending the pizza date as she hoped.

“He’s going clubbing,” Hoseok nods swiftly, her giggling that she enjoys clubbing as well in an attempt to win Namjoon’s interest. Namjoon politely declines, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat while he watches Hoseok, who came up with the plan this morning, joyfully dancing by Shai’s side while they disappear farther into the glistening city.

Heartbroken and confused, yet again, you make plans with LenLen who sees you’re not okay- the two of you enjoying your meals despite the hushed banter, “I can tell you still think about Jimin,”

“If I told you that I don’t, you wouldn’t believe me,”

“Maybe you should date around? Live a little,”

The conversation turns into LenLen giving dating advice- saying not to take men seriously- how they most likely flirt with every female in order to keep their options open- you biting your tongue about her secret she still has not an idea that you know about it. Doubting everything that has been happening with Namjoon, now the uncertainty of him having feelings for you plague your thoughts. Were you stupid to fall for another man’s tactics? But you’ve known Namjoon most of your life, and he’s never been one to cause toxicity amongst others, and you’ve always admired his maturity in situations. So, why can’t you come to terms that maybe he’s not like any other guy? But, then again… What if he is?

Namjoon bends onto the pool table while he squints his eyes at the ball, he’s planning on hitting. Seokjin waves the video games Namjoon surprised him with from America, thanking him once again while he awaits his turn.

“You know, I was going to invite you over to visit my parents with me, but apparently, Mom invited [Y/N]’s boyfriend over for dinner. And, of course, I’m aware of Hoseok ditching me for some girl my sister works with,”

Namjoon’s heart falls to his feet while he leans against the pool table, Seokjin’s focus remaining on his pool stick as he jabs it- the clacking of the balls sounding through the ringing in Namjoon’s ears. Jimin. Again?

“Boyfriend?” Namjoon tries to keep his emotions at bay to prevent any suspicion from your brother, straightening his back while his hands grip the wooden stick in frustration.

“Oh, I figured Monica may have mentioned him, but he’s some guy my mom won’t shut up about. He comes from a rich background. I could care less about the bastard, but I would never tell [Y/N] that. You know how she is about reminding us she’s our elder,”

“Yeah…” Namjoon takes his turn, head spinning from the news he’s receiving, “He comes over a lot?”

“Unfortunately,” Seokjin murmurs, “Just glad I’ve moved out with Hoseok so I don’t have to deal with any of it,”

“We can still go by there,” Namjoon says it without thinking, Seokjin nodding in agreement while they finish up their game. Why he feels the urge that you may need him he doesn’t know. Maybe if he sees Jimin in person again, he can feel some type of closure in letting you go. If Jimin is who you want, then maybe you should be with him in the long run.

Waltzing through your door after spending the evening with LenLen, your auditory senses are greeted by the familiar clinking of silverware mingled with the voices of your parents. At first, you assume that they’re talking to each other until a third voice makes an entrance, your body rigid from the rage rising within your chest. You’re relentless as you stomp to the living room- Jimin’s blonde hair glistens beneath the chandelier, while he sits at the table before your parents. He nods at you when your eyes lock, him timidly looking away when he sees the pure anger resonating from your stance. Your mother joyfully sprints to you, shoving you towards your room to change into something ‘better’ as she proclaims- spinning around dramatically to tell Jimin to continue with his meal.

When ten minutes pass, you haven’t budged from where you’re frozen before your mirror, the black umbrella Namjoon had given you just the night before leans against your desk. Your mother doesn’t even bother to knock, carefully shutting the door behind her while you immediately tilt your head up, “Why the hell is Jimin here!?” You raise your voice, her shushing you abruptly as her hands' fan in front of your face.

“First of all, I asked you to get ready! And I don’t understand why you’re being so damn selfish! Jimin is perfect for you in every way, and you should be very grateful to have found a man like him,” at some point, during your mother’s pointless banter, it all goes in one ear and out the other, and the relief of her leaving your room sends a frustrated exhale from your lips. You did all that you could when you were dating Jimin; you’ve even dressed up to the point of winning his affection in the bedroom which failed miserably as you recall the night of the breakup. And, you know what? Why not flaunt yourself like you did that night? You’ll show him. You’ll show all of them who is really missing out on who.

The smear of blood red lipstick decorates your lips while dangling pearl earrings match the lacey dress that now hugs your figure. Cleavage prominent, you swiftly straighten your hair, making the last task on your list to be a fresh pair of stockings- the intent of the article of clothing to remind Jimin of the night he was with another woman- the numerous nights he had been with other women.

Head held high, you gradually step into the living room, your father gulping at the sight of your bold choice of an outfit, while your mother gasps in disgust. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- trying to keep his gaze away from the tops of your bosoms squeezing together in the nicest bra you could find in your closet.

“Well?” You spread your arms while you sway to your side, “Is there a reason why you all seem appalled?” You gloat, “I’m sure I’ve put every woman in Busan to shame with this dress, isn’t that right Jiminie?” you’re acting obnoxiously, yet you don’t care, seductively tilting your head while you glare at the back of Jimin’s head, “Why are you sitting away from me, Honey? Look at me,” when Jimin glances at your wide-eyed parents, he cautiously turns to face you, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “What? Do you not like it?” You bend slightly, showing the size of your ass to remind Jimin of the nights he turned you down, muttering on how your sex life was boring due to the lingerie you refused to buy, “Should I have worn an even tighter dress? How about the stockings? Remind you of anything?”

“[Y/N]!” Your mother snaps, you straighten your frame whilst an exasperated giggle escapes your shiny smile,

“Oh, I forgot my parents were here. Oops,” you slur- your dad gesturing for you to take a seat which you do, Jimin having a hard time processing whatever you are doing. Beer is crowding the table with the many different plates of food your mother prepared, yet you turn to Jimin with a whiny request for wine.

Namjoon rests the side of his head on the window of the passenger’s side while Seokjin keeps his attention on the road, “So, have you been seeing anyone since we’ve been home?” He glimpses over to see his friend- distance in his expression which brings a concern to Seokjin.

“No,” Namjoon says after a moment.

“Okay,” Seokjin says slowly, “What about interest? Anyone, that you’re interested in?” He notices the hint of a smile on Namjoon’s face from the corner of his eyes, “Ah, there’s a smile. So, you do have an interest in someone,”

“You caught me,” Namjoon raises his hands in self-defense, “Ask away,”

“Tell me about her. What’s her name? How old is she? Is she from Busan?”

Namjoon contemplates his answers since he doesn’t want to reveal to Seokjin that it’s you, Seokjin’s sister, that Namjoon is hopelessly in love with, “She’s 28,”

“Dude,” Seokjin is shocked from the obvious tone of his voice, “That’s five years older than you, have you gone mad? That’s our sisters’ age. That’s like you dating my sister,” Namjoon glances at Seokjin while he proclaims on how creepy it is to date an older woman- Namjoon remaining silent for the rest of the drive, pain evident on his face now knowing your brother would disapprove if Namjoon’s feelings for you were to be made known.

Chugging half of your second beer, since Jimin failed at bringing wine, you wait for the perfect opportunity of Jimin’s lips molding to take a sip of his beer when you face your mother, “So, mom did dad ever cheat on you at any point in your relationship?”

Coughing, Jimin buries his mouth into his hand that curled into a fist, sliding his beer further from him while your mom’s eyebrows furrow at your random question, “No. No, your father’s been faithful. Wh-”

“What would you do if he wasn’t?”

Your father stares at you in distraught, yet he seems to catch where your conversation is headed.

“I’d smack him upside his head-”

Hesitation is not part of your vocabulary in this section of time, for your palm, with all the strength you can muster, slaps the back of Jimin’s head while he cringes beneath your touch. The burn of the hit lingers within your palm, while your parents freeze in realization- your dad raising his voice to ask what you’re trying to get at.

“Wait a minute,” your mother counters, while Jimin rubs the back of his head, “Did you… Were you seeing another woman while courting my daughter?”

Jimin drops his gaze to the table, running the tip of his tongue over his lips in panic.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know what to say,” your mother says in obvious disappointment. Your father rises slowly while he glowers at Jimin who raises his arm in a plea to your father, but it’s too late, he attacks Jimin, slamming him onto the table while bowls of food hit the floor- your mother getting in between the men while Jimin begs for your father to let him go.

“When is everyone going to start acting like adults in here!?” She bellows whilst scampering for cloths to clean the food stains off your father’s sweater.

“Look,” Jimin’s hands fly before him, “I messed up, okay? But I am not the only one to blame here! [Y/N] cheated, too! She’s seeing someone now!”

“Jimin!”

“Oh, are you going to deny it!? Do you think that it’s simple for me to come here? Your parents practically begged me to-”

“Then why the fuck did you not say no!?” Gasps escape from both of your parents at the choice of words you have chosen. But you are so livid, you could care less. “For heaven fucking sakes, Jimin, where is the respect? If only I had a few more drinks in me, I’d smack the shit out of you even more!”

“You know what?” Jimin clenches his jaw, settling to his knees before you, “Hit me then. Put me out of my misery. Do what you need to feel better, I just want to fix things here.”

“Like you’ve had such luck with patching things up before,” you mutter, “It’s not happening, Jimin,”

“Why?” Jimin taunts, standing back to his feet, “How about you tell your parents why you no longer want to be with me, huh? Who’s the man who told me to fuck off at your work? You dodge the question because you’re just as guilty as I am!”

Crossing your arms, you inch closer, a sneer present on your red lips, “Accusing me makes you feel so much better, doesn’t it,”

“Then why can’t you admit who he is? I’m going out of my mind about it, just fucking tell us already-”

“I like him, okay! But that was after my relationship with you!” Your voice is loud- so loud it carries throughout the house, stunning your parents as well as Jimin as they gape at you, “I really like him, you have an issue with that Jimin? Huh?”

“Oh no,” your mother groans as she collapses on the couch, “No, no, no, no-”

Seokjin bursting through the door makes matters worse to your mother as she clambers to tidy the table with whatever she can salvage while everyone’s attention turns to see not one, but two men, joining everyone in the living room. When Namjoon trails behind a wide-eyed Seokjin- Jimin’s expression shows astonishment as he points a shaky index finger toward Namjoon, whose eyes are too busy looking at the ensemble he has never seen on you before. A look that’s distracting him from the tension smothering the vicinity.

“That’s- that’s him! That’s the guy!” Jimin’s desperate- desperate to clear his name of any negativity, though he truly is the only one at fault for infidelity. Grasping your arm tightly, he drags you an inch forward while you struggle to get out of his grip, “You need to explain to everyone!”

Your parents are jumbled with who Jimin is exclaiming about at first, but when they realize his crazed eyes have yet to leave Namjoon’s, they know exactly who he’s referring to- but, Namjoon is more focused on the tightening grip Jimin has on your arm, Namjoon grits his teeth while he swallows slowly, “Let go of her.” Stepping forward, nobody has time to blink when Namjoon clutches the front of Jimin’s suit, dragging him roughly toward the outside of the house while Seokjin hysterically chases after them. Panicked voices of your parents scream towards what seems to be the start of a feud.

You can’t move. You just remain speechless while your hero intervenes once again.

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gummygowon · 4 years

Text

wake up loser | jeon jungkook

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff

best friends to lovers!

warnings: none

a/n: i wrote this oneshot a long time ago and i didn’t really know much about jungkook’s personality and i wrote this for my friend so please don’t burn me if this jungkook actually doesn’t match up with the real jk’s personality.

clink! clink! clink!

the annoying sound wouldn't stop no matter how hard you shoved the pillows into your ears. at first you thought it was something in your dream that was making that sound but as you slowly began to wake up the clinking never came to a stop.

you mumbled a curse under your breath as you got up to look out your window. usually if you heard a weird sound coming from outside your room you would be shitting yourself but you were too tired and angry to be scared. whatever demon that was outside was about to get their ass kicked back to hell.

you pushed your window curtains to the side a little too roughly and rubbed the fatigue away from your eyes. "jungkook?"

you immediately flung your window open. he was standing on your driveway with a handful of pebbles in his palm. it was a miracle he didn't shatter your window.

"oh my god finally." your best friend rolled his eyes. "you're such a pain in the ass to wake up."

"jungkook, what the fuck do you want." you grumbled. you tried your best to not wake up the whole goddamn neighborhood since it was who knows how late it was in the night or fuck, how early it was in the morning.

"just come down. i wanna show you something."

it was summer now which meant that you were back at your parents for the time being. you missed your family greatly but now you just wanna escape back into your dorm. your mom's usual nagging was getting to you and you needed a break even if it was just for a day.

but being back at your parent's house meant that you would see your childhood best friend, jeon jungkook.

you guys would do everything with each other when you were younger. hanging out at the community pool or even playing tag with the other neighborhood kids. oh how you wished to be a child again.

but, now you were an adult going to college and partying and doing other adult stuff. you kept in touch with jungkook but not as often as you wanted. the both of you guys were incredibly busy with school and work so a long phone call every weekend would have to do until now.

if jungkook had waited like four more hours you would sprung out of your bed so fast to hang out with him. but you were rudely awakened from your slumber and sleep was hard to come across in college so you had to take advantage now.

"why? it's literally so early." you whined.

"my mom made strawberry milk yesterday and i have some left over." he bribed.

"oh, say less." any anger or fatigue left your body as soon as he mentioned strawberry milk. jungkook's mom made the world's best strawberry milk and it was a shame that not everyone could try her delicious beverage.

you quickly got ready and grabbed a hoodie from your pile of clothes that were sitting on a chair. you didn't even dare to change out of your pajamas. the warmth that it provided was too good to be substituted for a wack ass pair of cold jeans.

you slipped out our window as if it wasn't your first time sneaking out. you were an adult now, your parents shouldn't really care about why you weren't home in the morning.

when you jumped down from your window, you swatted the tiny dust particles off yourself before turning to jungkook. "well, where we going captain?"

"this way, m'lady." he stuck out his arm for you to loop through, which you gladly did.

you've always this tiny crush on jungkook. it was bound to happen at some point but you never did anything about it and secretly hoped it went away. but your crush on him became even bigger during your senior prom when your trashy ex dumped you right there and then proceeded to start grinding up on one of your "friends."

jungkook was there for you throughout the whole thing. you were balling on his blazer and apologized many times and try to pull your head away to stop your runny makeup from ruining his jacket but he pulled you in closer to him and told you it was fine. he didn't really care if his prom outfit was ruined, all he cared about was you. the prom was ass anyways.

in an effort to make you feel better, he took you to in-n-out. the two of you guys ate your burgers while singing karaoke in his mom's old mini van. without jungkook, you were sure prom would've been a complete disaster. well, it definitely was but he made it better.

since then, you had your fair shares of hook ups and dates while in college. no one had met your incredibly high standards. in other words, no one was jeon jungkook but you would never admit it out loud.

you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him over your dumb feelings for him. plus, you didn't know what he was up to in his own love life. it's been awhile since the two of you actually sat down in person and properly caught up.

after walking in what seemed like fifteen minutes, you guys had arrived at this old park you guys used to hangout while growing up.

"oh man, i haven't been in here forever." you gasped, a big grin spreading across your face. memories flooded your brain.

jungkook looked over to you and couldn't help but smile too since you were so excited.

you let go of his arm and started running towards the tiny hill. "race you."

"hey! you got a head start." jungkook whined as he dashed towards you.

you actually ended up winning the race surprisingly but since jungkook was a sore loser he tackled you to the floor.

"you cheated!" he shouted as he tickled you.

"no-stop please- i did not." you argued between in laughs.

you managed to wrestle jungkook and ended up straddling him with his arms pinned down by you. he made eye contact with you and you could feel you heart do twenty somersaults.

if you guys were kids, it wouldn't be awkward but since you guys were almost twenty years old and since someone had a little crush, there definitely was tension.

you awkwardly coughed to get rid of the silence. "i win though." you fought back as you slid off him.

"yeah, sure. whatever works for you." he chuckled.

"it's not my fault ,you're so slow jk."

he put a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt. "how dare you say such things about me."

you rolled your eyes at his playfulness and shoved him lightly, "shut up."

the two of you guys fell into silence as you surveyed the world in front of you. a lot has changed but jungkook didn't change one bit.

"so, how's life?" you asked, breaking the peaceful silence. if nothing was going to happen, you were going to fall asleep.

"i thought you wanted me to shut up?" he fired right back.

you threw your hands up in the air, "just answer the question or i'm walking back home."

"alright, alright. i will."

for the next hour or so, the two of you caught up on everything. from friends to school life to the latest work drama. jeez, there was so much to talk about that you guys couldn't cover in your monthly phone calls. it was nice to catch up with him though. you missed him a lot. talking through screens wasn't the same as being next him.

the sun was about halfway in the sky and the clouds were painted a dusty pink. jungkook had whipped out the infamous strawberry milk, much to your delight and you guys sipped in silence with the occasional moment of bringing up old memories.

you were sipping your drink while deep in your thoughts. a surge of confidence came and it dared you to confess your true feelings to your best friend. you don't know where it came from but you weren't no pussy. you stared at the pink sky and a smile formed on you lips as you thought about the what if's with him.

you could feel jungkook's stare on you so, you turned to look at him. "what?"

he had this lovestruck look on his face. a look you've never really seen out of all the years you've known him.

now, jungkook also had a fat crush on you but was too scared to make a move. he thought he lost you when you got a boyfriend in high school but look at how that turned out. he was secretly happy that the two of you didn't work out but he would never confess that to you.

i swear there was something in the air because jungkook also had a surge of confidence that dared him to confess too. the timing was perfect. actually, everything was perfect. the sky was a pretty pink, you were happy which made him even happier.

his mind couldn't stop thinking about how cute you looked in your pajamas and messy bun. he was grateful that you could be comfortable with him and that you didn't care what you looked like in front of him. to him you were just right.

"i love you." he confessed. jungkook was practically sweating as soon as those words left his mouth. he didn't actually mean to confess like that or did he? "i mean-"

"just kiss me, you loser." you cut in.

jungkook smiled before pulling you in.

you tasted like mint toothpaste and strawberries.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook oneshots #kpop oneshots #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarioes #bts oneshots #bts oneshot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop fluff oneshots

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dameronsgalaxygal · 4 years

Text

I’ve Been Waiting For You - Chapter 5: Honey, Honey

series masterlist

Pairing: modern!poe x reader

Warnings: mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of cancer. FLUFF.

Word Count: 3386

Song Link: Honey, Honey

A/N: I may lag a bit in posting this week, I am getting my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow and will most likely be spending the week recovering! I’ll try my best to work on the next chapter though in hopes that it'll distract me from the pain. Don’t forget to listen to the song, per usual! Feedback and comments greatly appreciated, and tag list is open!

Summary: You and Poe go to the beach and Poe talks to you about how he feels.

I’ll pick you up at 11.

That’s so early for just a walk on the beach...

Maybe I have more planned.

You bit your lip to bite back a smile. You thought you would be meeting Poe later in the evening for dinner on the shore and then a walk down the beach, and although you wouldn’t admit it, you were hoping he had planned more. Knowing he had a whole day planned made your stomach flutter.

Is that so?

Maybe

Okay, Dameron. I’ll see you at 11.

You put your phone back in your pocket as you continued to work, organizing books. A group of middle schoolers had come by and basically made a mess of the entire store, leaving books all over the place and putting them on the incorrect shelves. It was your turn to reorganize since Tallie was at the register.

“What are you smiling at?” Leia peeked around the aisle to find you smiling as you dusted off another book, placing it on its appropriate shelf.

You just shook your head, a smile still lingering on your face. “Just thinking”

“About Poe?” She smiled, handing you another book to put away.

Leia could see right through you. She knew how much you liked being around Poe. She would notice your entire face light up every time Poe would visit the store, and she also noticed how much Poe could be himself around you, which was actually quite different from him. He always put on a mask around other girls, but not you. She wouldn’t tell you that, though.

You laughed softly. “Yeah. We have a date tomorrow.”

Leia grinned, “See? I told you that you know what you want.”

With that she walked away, leaving you to continue working with the same smile plastered on your face.

The day of your date, you woke up around 9am to shower and get ready. It was pretty warm outside and hardly a cloud in the sky. You wore a similar outfit to the one you wore to the club a couple weeks ago along with your swimsuit underneath. You weren’t sure if you would go in the water, but you wore it just in case.

Poe texted you around 10:30 as you were still getting ready.

Mornin sunshine. Going to starbucks then i'll head to your place. Whatcha want?

Your date hadn’t even started yet and you were already blushing. The fact that Poe had called you sunshine and was going to pick you up breakfast continued to prove the gentleman he really was. You had no doubt he was so kind, it just took you a few weeks and Leia to knock some sense into you that he was nothing like Kyle.

You don’t have to get me anything!

I know I don’t. But i'm gonna anyway. Quick, i'm next in line.

You chuckled to yourself before responding.

I’ll have a java chip frappe with peppermint :)

Got it. Pick you up soon.

You swore your smile hadn’t left your face since work yesterday.

You finished gathering up your things while you waited for Poe to pick you up. You threw a towel, some sunscreen, a change of clothes, a water bottle and some chapstick in your bag. You looked in your desk drawers for your sunglasses when you came across that matte blue notebook.

Hesitantly, you picked it up. You knew you shouldn’t open it right before going on your date. Your memories of Kyle had already messed up one interaction with Poe, you didn’t want them to mess up another.

The notebook had hundreds of pages full of your emotions towards Kyle. Emotions, feelings and thoughts you had never told anyone before. Thoughts that were holding you back. That kept you holding on to New York.

You heard a honk which let you know that Poe was outside. You grabbed your beach bag and the blue notebook, calling out to Rey and Rose to tell them you were leaving.

As you left, you tossed your notebook into the trash bin that sat right by your front door. You let out a sigh of relief as you got into Poe's car. Good riddance.

“Well hello there.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee before handing your frappuccino. He had beautiful eyes, but boy did he look good wearing sunglasses.

“Hi” You laughed, taking it from him. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“Seriously?” You glanced at him in confusion. “We’re on a date. You don’t owe me anything.” He set his cup in the cupholder and pulled out of the apartment complex.

The fact that you felt nervous was silly. You had been spending a lot of time with Poe since you arrived in Florida. He allowed you to be yourself and he was starting to feel like a best friend. Sure, you would go to lunch or hang out, but it was never labeled as a date like today. Poe was giving you butterflies.

The drive to the beach was comfortable. Poe had put the windows down and turned the radio on, turning it up just enough so that you two could sing karaoke with the music. Your hair flew in front of your face as you looked out the window and you pushed it out of the way, even though it continued the entire ride. Poe frequently glanced over at you as he drove, the corner of his lips turning up to a soft smile.

Thirty minutes later and Poe was pulling into a parking garage right across from Fort Lauderdale beach. “Why didn’t we just go to miami beach?” You asked as you sipped the last of your frappuccino.

He shrugged as he turned off the ignition, smiling at you. “I wanted to try something different.”

You both got out of the car, Poe going to open the trunk to grab what looked like a picnic basket along with a beach umbrella. He handed you another bag that had a blanket, towels, and a change of clothes.

“Making me carry your things, are we?” You teased as he closed the trunk, locking the car.

He smirked and headed out of the parking garage without saying a word. This was going to be a long day, and boy were you excited.

You had eventually found a nice spot on the beach far enough away from the crowds of people, but still close enough so it wasn’t like you had the beach to yourself. You wouldn’t mind if you did, though.

You set down the bags and put up the umbrella while Poe laid out the red and white checkered blanket. You took off your shoes, placing them in your beach bag so they wouldn’t get sand in them.

You sat down beside Poe, his tanned skin gleaming perfectly from the sun directly above the two of you.

“So. What do we have planned today?” You watched him place the picnic basket in his lap and he opened it to reveal a display of foods and drinks.

He began to take out small sandwiches, bags of chips, cups of fruit and cookies. You bit your lip to hold back a smile, the thought that he had put this together by himself made your cheeks heat up.

“Well, I figured we would eat first. Then we could go into the water or tan a bit. Walk the shore. If you aren’t too tired maybe we could watch the sunset.” He handed you a can of soda that you cracked open right away.

You took a sip of your soda before placing it in your lap. “I’m cool with staying to watch the sunset.”

He grinned widely. “Cool.”

You smiled back as he handed you a sandwich.

“Did you make these?” You unwrapped the foil it was covered with before taking a bite.

“Sure did.” He paused as though he felt guilty. “Well, Finn helped me. By helped me I mean that he made them and I wrapped them with foil.”

You covered your mouth as you let out a laugh, trying not to spit out your food.

“Look,” He chuckled, swallowing his bite of the sandwich, “I don’t know how to make sandwiches look...presentable. I wanted them to look nice. Finn has a gift-.”

“In sandwich making?” You took another bite of your sandwich, a smile plastered on your lips.

He rolled his eyes and continued to eat. You admired how Poe was trying so hard. You could care less about how a sandwich looked, especially when you were just having a picnic. But Poe was different. He was going to do everything he could to capture your heart. He was doing a damn good job.

You two talked for what seemed like hours, typical between the two of you. You had only known Poe for about a month and a half, but you felt as though you had known him forever. Even after that incident at the bar and the encounter at the bookstore the next day, you still felt relaxed and comfortable with him. Things weren’t awkward between you two.

About an hour and a half into your conversations, you noticed Poe’s arms starting to redden.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” You asked him concerned. You glared at his bicep, which was only half covered by his t-shirt. You really didn’t know if you were staring at it because it was sunburnt or because it was massive.

He looked at his arms before he swore under his breath, grabbing the sunscreen bottle from his bag.

You let out a small laugh. “That’s gonna leave a wonderful tanline.”

He smirked at you before he pulled off his shirt, tossing it into his bag. You licked your lips unconsciously as you took in the view before you. His chest was toned perfectly and the sun reflected off of it, he looked like a movie star. A silver chain hung from his neck, a ring attached to the end of it.

He ran his hands along his chest and arms to cover himself in sunscreen and you noticed a small tattoo located right above his heart.

“S.B.D?” You asked.

He looked down at the initials carved into his skin before looking back at you. “My mom's initials,” he said, “Shara Bey Dameron”.

Poe had told you about his mom when you went to lunch after you had gotten the job at Solo Reads. You had asked him about his childhood, which brought up the conversation about his parents. His dad had moved away from South Miami after Shara passed. He felt stuck and heartbroken, in need of an escape before it consumed him, a situation similar to yours. Poe decided to stay in Miami to go to flight school and eventually become a commercial airline pilot.

Shara passed away when Poe was eighteen due to breast cancer. From what he had told you, he had been extremely close to her. They nearly seemed inseparable. You weren’t surprised that he had a tattoo in her honor.

“That’s a beautiful name,” you said softly.

“She was a beautiful woman.” He smiled gently at you.

Your eyes shifted from his down to his necklace. He reached up to hold the silver ring between his thumb and index finger, “It was her wedding band. My dad gave it to me after she passed. I didn’t feel like it was doing her justice, so I got the tattoo as well.”

You nodded sadly, looking into your lap. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “Let’s not turn this into a pity party. Let’s have some fun. We’re on a date.” He stood up, reaching his hand out for you to take.

You took it and he pulled you up.

“Let’s go in the water.” He smirked.

You pulled your shirt over your head and pulled down your shorts to leave you in your bikini. If you had been with anyone else, you would have been extremely self-conscious. But being around Poe made you feel like yourself. You weren’t as nervous as you had been a week ago. He was making it clear how much he respected you.

He smiled at you in which your cheeks flushed.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, your small smile dropping slightly.

“What?” He noticed your demeanor change.

You gulped, “No one has ever called me beautiful before.”

It was true. Kyle was your first boyfriend and he never called you beautiful. He never called you anything, for that matter. Except sexy, and that’s only when he would try to get you in bed. But he would never call you any terms of endearment, nor would he ever make you feel beautiful.

His smile turned to a frown. “Didn’t you have a boyfriend?”

No, no, no. Don’t bring him up. You were able to shrug it off.

He walked toward you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Well I’ll tell you a million times. You are beautiful.”

You softly smiled. “Thank you.”

You were falling faster than you would have liked to.

Poe smiled back at you before scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, a small scream leaving your lips.

“Poe Dameron, put me down!” You laughed. He was careful. If you really wanted to be put down, he would put you down. He didn’t want to mess up again. But he could tell in your tone that you were being playful.

“No, thanks.” He ran down the sand into the water before setting you down.

You yelped at the change in temperature, the cold waves crashing on your legs.

Poe splashed you, causing you to gasp. You shot him a glare, your jaw hanging open slightly, before you splashed him back. “It’s on”.

You and Poe continued to splash each other as if you were a couple of kids until Poe pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You were unsure where to place your hands, but you eventually sat them on his biceps, which he purposefully flexed.

He sighed, his goofy smile turning more serious. “I know you said you just got out of a relationship, and that you couldn’t do this right now, but I like you a lot. I feel like I have known you my entire life. You’re so easy to talk to. You laugh at my jokes, which by the way are terrible, so thank you for that.”

You laughed slightly, looking up at him. You knew where he was going with this, but you already knew your answer. He was making you feel again, something you didn’t think that was possible. At least not this fast. You had thrown away your notebook right before you left this morning. You were ready to completely start fresh. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t still hurt, and some things would be extremely sensitive, but you wanted to try this with Poe. Just like Leia said, you know what you want.

“You’re beautiful, funny, sassy,” You blushed and smiled, running your hands up and down his arms. “I know this is only our first date but, I’d like to make you my girlfriend. It doesn’t have to be today, or even tomorrow. But I want you to know that I’ll give you all the time you need.”

He was willing to wait for you.

“Poe.”

“And I don’t know what you went through in New York, but I would never, ever, hurt you.”

“Poe I-” You tried cutting him off.

“Yes, I know. Since I’m a pilot I am gone a lot, but I would never-” You cut him off by placing your lips on top of his. The kiss was soft, different from the kisses you had shared at the club.

He kissed you back and you felt as though you were floating. His lips were soft and warm, heat shooting through your body even though you were still standing in the cold water.

He cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly to kiss you deeper. Even though it wasn’t the first kiss you two had shared, it had felt like it.

You pulled away, looking up at him. “I came here to start over. I’m tired of holding myself back. You’ve pulled me out of my shell and I admire you so much for it. I’m not perfect, and I might be a lot to handle sometimes, but if you are up for the challenge, then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

You didn’t think Poes smile could get any wider, but it did. He picked you up and spun you around, and you giggled hysterically.

He sat you down, placing his forehead on top of yours before pecking your lips. “You’re my girlfriend”

You rolled your eyes playfully, walking out of the water.

He chased you, reaching down to grab your hand as you walked back to the blanket. Not even two minutes into being official and the boy was already smitten.

The rest of the date you spent laughing and exchanging occasional kisses. It had seemed as though Poe had so many he was waiting to give you, and he was giving them to you all at once.

Poe had pulled you into his lap, giving soft kisses to your shoulder and cheek and you would giggle and scrunch your face at the tickling sensation.

“Do you have any more food? I’m kind of hungry.” You asked, looking into the picnic basket.

He removed his lips from your shoulder to glance inside. He reached in to pull out a small bag of grapes, handing them to you.

You opened them and popped a few into your mouth before offering some to Poe. He grabbed one, throwing it at a seagull that was a few feet away from where you two had sat.

“Poe!”

“What? It looked hungry.” He raised his shoulders and pointed at the seagull.

“Yeah well now it’s going to alert its fellow seagull buddies and our date is going to have an audience!” You crawled out of his lap as more seagulls landed near your towel.

“Nope, no, I am walking away” You laughed and stood up, trying to walk away from the birds that were now hovering over Poe.

“They just want some food! Here.” Poe threw some more grapes.

You watched as the seagulls got closer to Poe, who was now standing with slight panic on his face. He started to run away from them in hopes that they would eat the grapes and leave, but they only flew after him. You couldn’t help but laugh so hard you nearly cried, Poe running in circles yelling for you to save him.

The birds eventually gave up and flew away, and Poe ran to you, pulling you into him and burying his head in your neck. “They almost killed me”

“You are so overdramatic,” You laughed, pushing him off you gently. “You ready for that walk now?”

He nodded, brushing his hair out of his face. “It’s getting a little chilly, I’m going to change and then we can take our walk down the shore and watch the sunset. It will be very romantic.” He winked.

You giggled again, walking to your bag to grab your clothes. You changed into some sweats and a hoodie, and Poe did the same.

“Ready?” Poe asked, reaching his hand out for you.

You nodded, taking it and intertwining your fingers as you walked along the shore. The water barely caressed your feet as you walked and talked, sharing pecks on the lips every now and then until Poe stopped walking, pulling you to his chest and placing a small kiss on the crown of your head. You rested your head on his chest and let out a tiny sigh.

You were feeling excited, but a part of you was upset with yourself for allowing you to get attached to someone so quickly, let alone hop into another relationship after just getting out of an abusive long-term relationship. You couldn’t help but worry you would end up hurt again, but for now you stood in the arms of Poe, his head on top of yours as you watched a mixture of reds and oranges paint the sky as the sun faded behind the sea.

taglist <open> @twomoonstwosuns @darksideofclarke @damnyoudameron @rewritingstarrs @aidela @softly-sad @fanfiction-trashpile @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lanatheawesome @fantasticcopeaglepasta @the-cry-of-youth @yeeintensifies @itsamedeemoney @yougottakeeponkeepinon @cloud-leader @multifandomlife22 @aroseamongthestars

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x reader #I've been waiting for you poe #modern poe #poe dameron #poe dameron x y/n #poe series

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secret-time-is-here · 4 years

Text

Double stitched - rewrite

Chapter 11

Previous - First - Next

Haventale was bright, a land of clouds where everyone was happy. He felt so out of place, wearing his black’s deep blue’s and red’s compared to everyone else’s pastel’s. Now the trouble was searching for Dream and staying out of view. Finding a safe place to stay on top of a tall building, he sat down and began to search through the AU. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he found Dream and accidently found Cross.

They seemed to be relaxing, sitting in a home, Dream wearing much more casual clothes and Cross for the most part wearing the same, his outfit complimenting Dream’s. The positive guardian seemed to be cooking something as they talked. Everyone seemed to be living their lives normally, even happily. Why couldn’t he get that?

Suddenly, Cross seemed to stare right through the window, which should be invisible to him, seconds later he was gone.

“What are you doing here.” Cross threatened, reappearing right in front of Glitch, the tip of a dagger pointed at the errored skeleton’s soul, the other dagger held tightly in Cross’ off hand.

“Hello to you too, Oreo.” Glitch rolled his eyes, he’s been through worse than a simple stab wound.

“Once. Again.” Cross barked, “What are you doing here.”

“As cRazy as iT sOunds, I wanT tO TaLk, maInLy tO DREam.”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Glitch shrugged, the other dagger stabbed his pant leg, grazing the bone, “Why would I ever let you near him?”

“I dOn’T havE any REasOn wHy,” The darker skeleton admitted, “aLL I knOw Is hE’s tHE OnLy OnE wHO can hELp mE wiTH THIs.”

“...And what exactly is ‘this’?” Cross questioned, his grip on the dagger’s never slacking.

“As mucH as I LIkE my pRIdE, If iT’s tHe OnLy way tO cOnvIncE yOu...” Glitch sighed and stared at the ground, “I wEnT sOmEwhERE dIffEREnT, whERE I fOund fRIEnds and a lOvER, buT, I dOn’T know If iT was a dREam oR nOT.” He saw the grib on the daggers loosen before readjusting and tightening once more, “I was aT ThE pLacE fOR twO yEaRs, tHE samE TImE I’vE bEEn gOnE hERE, buT, EvERyTHIng I havE tO REmEmbER THaT pLacE Is gOnE...”

He felt so damn weak, but he needed to know If he could get back to Strings, he doesn’t care anymore. He finally got his happy end, and he’s not letting it go.

“EvERyTHIng I had Of StRIngs is gOnE. He REpaIREd my cLOtHEs, hE HELpEd my hEaL mOsT Of my scaRs, hE hElpEd mE wiTH sO much. NOw aLL Of iT is gOnE. EvEn THaT dumb LItTLe HeaRT hE sOwEd aT tHE bOTTOm Of my scaRf.” He refused to let the tears fall, he didn’t need Nightmare interrupting this.

The dagger’s backed away, and he was pulled up by his sleeve. Wordlessly, Cross teleported the two of them back to that kitchen he had seen Dream in.

“Welcome back, Cross! Where’d you go anyway?” The guardian spoke without turning.

“More like what I went to get,” The guard growled, sitting down at one of the island bar stools, the house much different than the standard skeleton bros house, “Our intruder has some questions for you.”

“Intruder-?” Dream turned around, “Error?!” The guardian faced Cross fully, “You let the destroyer of worlds in?!”

“PLEasE- I jusT wanT tO TaLk!” Glitch raised his hands up and away from his face, let his skull fall down in surrender, “I wOuLdn’T havE camE tO yOu If iT wasn’T ImpORTanT… pLEasE. I...” He was struggling to hold in the tears now, he just wants Strings. Pride be damned he wants to be held. Just forgot everything for a bit. Even seeing Strings would be enough at this point.

“You… I can actually feel your positive emotions...” Glitch raised his skull, hoping that’d help stop the tears from building, Dream held his hand over his mouth, looking unsure of what to do. “Where have you been these past two years?”

“It’s a little hard to explain...” Glitch let his hands drop, hugging himself for comfort, the memory of Strings arms around him helping some. The memory of warm flesh of his human warming his cold skeleton body. Yet, he stayed cold, and instead of the fabric of String’s shirt in his hands, he felt the scratchy old texture of his worn jacket.

Dream guided Glitch to a bar stool, saying that he would finish their food and then they could talk.

The warm homemade soup helped a lot, Dream offering some tea with. Now, he didn’t feel like he was freezing, but, his soul still felt cold. In his soul, he knew nothing could replace Strings.

After they finished eating, Dream brought them to a cozy living room, Cross begrudgingly following. Complaining and grumbling the whole time. Dream did point out that he didn’t have to stay, but the guard insisted.

“Sorry about him,” Dream apologized, “Can you try explaining now?”

Then, Glitch replayed the story. Waking up in the new multiverse, learning about who was still there and who wasn’t. Meeting the “Meme squad”, that got a laugh out of Cross for some reason, the guard muttering something about some guy name Epic. He talked about how he began to like Strings, Dream raising his eye brow at it, but not commenting.

He regretfully began to talk about Blue, pulling the blanket the guardian had offered closer around himself, curling further into his ball. He still couldn’t understand why that dumb pretty boy was so manipulating. How he managed to act so innocent and then turned into a demon once he pulled you in his trap.

He replayed how happy he was, finally escaping, going back to the Meme squad. Then, learning about love, and how happy he was when Strings returned his love, only to wake up the next morning back in his own multiverse.

“...Well, Glitch, if you like that name more, I’m happy to tell you that you haven’t had any dream’s since you disappeared.” Everything began to fade out creppily, and he heard Dream say: “Everything was real.”

Bolting up, he woke up in a dark room, one of Strings’ looser night shirts hanging off his ribs, the galaxy shorts he had borrowed replacing his rough old pants, blankets were pilled around him, Strings’ spot empty, the pillows messy behind him, and Nightmare next to him.

“STARS- sTOp dOIng THaT!” Glitch yelled flustered, grabbing a pillow and hitting Night with it.

“Lol.” The negative guardian spoke after he was no longer being smacked by pillows.

“WhaT dOEs THaT EvEn mEan??” Glitch questioned, “WaIT, wHaT aRE yOu dOIng In hERE?”

“Strings’ made breakfast for everyone, and he asked me to come wake ya up, but you were dreaming and it looked pretty cool so I watched it for a bit.”

“cREEp.”

“Lmao.” Glitch just shook his head, “Anyways, that’s what your multiverse looks like? I seem like such a bratty bastard… and, your Dream almost looks like how mine used to be.”

“BEfORE HIs wIngs?”

“The positive corruption, yeah. It’s nice to know I’m not the only person dealing with a childhood friend who suddenly turned on them...” Nightmare trailed for a moment, seeming to think a bit, but then continued, “Oh, and I totally get how your Ink is more annoying than ours now.”

“TeLL mE abOuT iT.”

“What in this multivErsE is taking yOu sO lOng?” Strings’ voice echoed through the room, the handsome face he thought he lost appearing in the door. “MORning, Glitchy.” His human smiled sweetly, and softly, the once cold souled skeleton returned the smile, getting out of bed and hugging his lover close.

Nothing was going to make him lose his happy end.

Dreamswap belongs to @onebizarrekai

Underverse and Cross belong to @jakei95

Dream and Nightmare belong to @jokublog

Ink belongs to @comyet

Error belongs to @loverofpiggies

#Undertale #Fanfic #Double stitched #Double stitched chapter 11 #Chapter 11 #Underverse Error #Underverse Cross #Underverse Dream #Underverse Ink #Underverse #Dreamswap Nightmare #Dreamswap Error #Dreamswap Dream #Dreamswap #errorcest #ds error x uv error #uv error x ds error #Strings x Glitch #Glitch x Strings

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smbeech · 4 years

Text

AWA Life Report and Feedback wanted.

So I am starting with the Feedback portion because I think this is most important. Fake Star reached out to me and is requesting feedback on the VIP offerings. I am letting as many people know as I can, that Fake Star would like feedback on the offerings for VIP badges and other things you’d be interested in.

Specifically, they would like to hear from you on more of what you’d like offered as a VIP benefit. Fake Star will be meeting with them next month and would like to bring your ideas to them.

So far we’ve received the following suggestions:

Continue the Photoshoots.

Continue Early Access

More items to raffle off

More Gacha Items

A Fan meet event where you can interact with the band more, play games, buy cheki with the members, hear acoustic versions of songs, etc.

Back Stage look, being able to be present for soundcheck and practice.

International FanClub, right now the idea is for a digital version only as most of the current Fanclub perks outside of tickets and store times are digital already.

International shipping for the LM.C Store.

If you have anything you’d like to contribute, please let us know! This is your chance.

Now onto AWA report!

Fake Star presented LM.C for the second time in a row at this year’s Anime Weekend Atlanta.

The event marked LM.C’s third performance in a row in the U.S. It also marked the first-ever offering of VIP badges for LM.C events. Perks included Early access to all LM.C events and up to 2 photoshoots with LM.C, one of which was with the MAD LM.C. This marks the first appeared of MAD LM.C since well…they were first introduced.

The Mad LM.C Photoshoot took place on Thursday, Halloween, and the General photoshoot took place on Saturday the second. The fans came together to create a flower board display for LM.C and bouquets.

Previously, photoshoots had only ever been offered to members of Team LM.C in Japan. The concert was great, the setlist included: Ghost Heart, Oh My Juliet, Funny Phantom, Double Dragon, Hoshi no Arika, 88, Boys and Girls, Chamaleon Dance, Rock the LM.C, We are LM.C Anthem, Chaindreamers, the Buddha, & Punky Heart.

Surprisingly, only one song (Chaindreamers) from the latest album, Future Sensation, was played, but the audience was enthralled none the less. LM.C came out full force in all their glory as this picture below so famously immortalized.

The show started with a little bit of a hitch, as there was a sound malfunction, forcing the band to stop during the first song. While the issue was being resolved Maya engaged in some light banter with concert-goers. He asked who spoke multiple languages and informed the audience that he spoke two languages, Japanese and Japan-English. He also asked the audience about some new words he’d learned, “Lit” and Yeet.” He seemed to get what “Lit” meant and had no trouble saying. “Yeet,” however, gave our king some trouble. He attempted to pronounce it, the result was “Why-Eeeet?” Despite help from the crowd, I am unsure if he really got it.

He also enquired about the blue Powerade beverage he’d been provided with. He asked if the drink was safe and why it was blue. The audience responded with a mixture of Yes, No, and Maybe. He only took one sip of it the entire concert, so we can presume, he was not a fan. In fairness, this is probably a good idea when drinking something that looks suspiciously like window-cleaner.

During this banter, Aiji disappeared off stage to presumably help with adjustments. This prompted Maya to ask, “Where is my Guitarist, where is my man?”

Finally, the show restarted, none of the excitement or energy before the malfunction had been lost. One of the high points of the show was when 88 was performed. The crowd had been given glow sticks with lyric an instruction cards before the show to sing along with Maya when the song started. It worked with resounding success, Maya even got a little choked up. Throughout the concert there was more banter from Maya culminating in everyone’s favorite translator, Ryan, being summoned to the stage, along with a phrased cried out from an audience member that will live in infamy, “Ryan is Daddy!”

Maya asked what that meant, but a mortified Ryan said he’d tell him later. We don’t know if he ever did. This show had more effects than the 2 previous concerts, complete with the lyrics displayed so the audience could sing along. In the past, many have struggled to do this.

The show concluded with Maya making jokes with the cameraman, asking if he was cold in the Cheerleader outfit he was wearing. Pictures were taken, and the band was taken back when the lights came on and they were able to see just how many people came to their show, they were truly impressed.

Throughout the weekend, special GACHA packs were sold, some contained blue tickets which would grant the holder access to a special signing where you could have anything signed and it would be personalized. Those who got multiple tickets were very generous and gave their extras to those who got nothing. It was great to see fan-base come together and help each other and ensure that more people had the opportunity to have a wonderful time with LM.C.

The Final LM.C event was Sunday with the raffle and Q&A Panel.

Here are the questions in no particular order:

What’s your favorite LM.C look?Aiji said he likes loose clothing that’s easy to move around in, therefore the Track Suit from JOHN was his favorite. Maya said the current outfit [see above] was his favorite, followed by the costume for “Let Me Crazy!!”

What’s your favorite song to perform?

Aiji said anything upbeat, like Chameleon Dance, while Maya said he likes to perform the songs that have appeared in Anime as those are the ones that American audiences get into the most.

What song of theirs that doesn’t have a video would they want to make a video for?

Maya asked the audience if they were familiar with a manga called “Kingdom,” which is a fictionalized retelling of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms from Chinese history. He said the song “Dystopia” was based on that Manga, and he wanted to do a really big expensive video for it.

Aiji said he would like to do more videos for their slower songs, specifically “Twinkle Star,” he too would want it to be expensive with lots of special effects.

What does the name LM.C mean?

Maya said that before their debut, they already owned the domain [Lovely-Mocochang.com] and that the band name came from that. {LM} stands for “Lovely-Mocochang,” {.} stands for “dot,” and {C} stands from “com”.

Of course, the name also comes from a dog Maya once owned, “Moco.”

What are their favorite childhood memories?

Maya said his favorite memory was of watching a historical drama with this grandmother when he was young.

Aiji said his favorite memory was of building a paper statue with his kindergarten class for a school festival.

What would be their advice for the current generation?

In response to this question, Maya asked the attendees if we read translations of LM.C’s lyrics. The audience responded, “Yes.” He then said that if you follow what is written in those lyrics you can learn how to be happy.

Who’s their favorite western artist?

Maya said his favorite was Cyndi Lauper, he liked her look more than her music though. He said that Mad Maya’s bright yellow hair color and appearance was inspired by her.

Aiji said his favorite artist was Michael Jackson.

How did they meet?

Maya stated that they met at a live house in Nagano when he was 17. He said that was there to see the band that was performing either before or after (don’t remember which) Aiji’s band. He didn’t remember much about the occasion other than Aiji was smoking when they met.

Would LM.C ever do an American Tour?

Maya commented that America is really big, they said it would be cool and asked if we would come to their shows, of course, everyone said yes.

What’s the meaning of Aiji’s Tattoo?

Aiji said that the first tattoo was his parent’s birthdays, the second represented the universe, and the third was for his previous band.

On the topic of tattoos, Maya said he doesn’t think he’d get one because he’d become bored of it and want to change it. He then joked that maybe he should get a big chest tattoo.

Did they ever get nervous meeting celebrities and idols they were young?

Aiji said no. Maya said that he’s not the type to get nervous so, no. He then said that when he was in middle school he got to meet Hide from X-Japan. Maya said that he didn’t even introduce himself he just started talking to Hide.

What’s their favorite letter and kanji?

Maya said is favorite letter was “M” (obviously), and his favorite kanji was Umi for sea “海.” Aiji took some time to think about his favorite letter, first, he said, “…L?” Then he said no, and kept thinking. Maya asked him, “Is it M?” to which Aiji responded with, “Yeah….no.” At last Aiji settled on “R.” For his favorite kanji, he said Kumo for cloud, “雲.”

Would they ever bring back MAD LM.C?

Maya said they’ve been wanting to do something with Mad LM.C but there was never a good time. It worked for this event because it fell on Halloween. He said that if another con fell on Halloween, they would do it again.

(My hope of hearing “Mad or Die!” live may never happen. ToT)

Why did they choose Visual Kei for their style?

Both Maya and Aiji said it was because all the bands the liked growing up were doing the style that would eventually become V-Kei. There was no V-Kei at the time when they were getting into those bands.

Someone asked if they liked the gift their sister gave them.

A girl gave LM.C a drawing of them as a gift. Her sister asked if they liked the gift. They said they appreciate any gift they receive but it really means a lot when someone takes the time to make something specifically for them.

Regarding the drawing itself, they liked that she had combined their first outfits with their new look.

That’s all the questions I remember. If anyone remembers any I missed, please tell me. That’s it for the live report. Please don’t forget to let me know by commenting or sending me a message if you have anything you would like to see offered in future VIP events for LM.C. Fake Star really wants to know your thoughts, and I was very honored that they reached out to me. So please, let your voices be heard.

I hope you all have the opportunity to attend a VIP event for LM.C someday. There is also a fan discord for LM.C please feel free to join and connect with other fans!

Link here: https://discord.gg/Bz2WWJt

#lm.c #lm.c live #maya #aiji #lm.c maya #lm.c aiji #lm.c concert #lm.c fans #Fake Star #awa #awa 2019 #my thoughts

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Ankle Biter

Summary: It’s Red’s turn to be de-aged. Luckily, Edge knows someone who has experience with babies.

Tags: Pre-Spicyhoney, Pre-Relationship, De-Aged, Baby Bones, First Times

Notes: So, I have this weird not-really-a-series-but-it-is storyline of de-aged fics. This came to me last night at 3am, while I was well-dosed with cold medicine so do with that what you will.

The stories are, in order:

A Little Edgy | A Lot Edgier | Keeping Elastic | A Bit of a Stretch

And now this one:

Read ‘Ankle Biter’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was close to noon when the pounding on the front door woke Stretch. Much too early to be dragging ass out of bed but whoever was exercising their fist on their door wasn’t taking ‘not home’ for an answer.

Stretch shuffled down the stairs, bathrobe hanging open over his shorts and T-shirt. He scrubbed at his dry sockets with the back of his hand, grumbling out, “yeah, yeah, keep your hair on.”

As it turned out, the knocker didn’t have any hair to cling to. Edge stood on the porch in that stiff posture of his that made Stretch wonder if he shoved a broomstick through his pelvis every morning to make sure his spine was level.

He hadn’t seen Edge in a few weeks; some shit was going down in Underfell, or that was the Fell bros’ excuse for skipping out on movie night. To have him showing up on their porch in the middle of the damn day meant things, probably none of them good.

In his arms was a bundle, wrapped up in Edge’s prized scarf. Before Stretch could even put together a ‘what the fuck’, Edge twitched aside the corner of the scarf to reveal a sleeping baby bones, one with suspiciously familiar bone structure

Stretch sighed and held open the door. Looked like his penance for skipping out on sentry duty made deliveries.

“whatever the fuck our science types are working on, they can stop anytime now,” Stretch grumbled. His own turn in short pants was still a sore point between him and Blue, his bro being torn between outright asking what was up and pretending it never happened. Just as well, Stretch wanted to talk about it again right around as much as he wanted to loan out a femur to the Dogi.

At least now they had baby clothes laying around. Red hadn't been happy about being changed into the panda outfit and Stretch nearly lost a finger to those baby shark teeth. Little bastard was quick, even when he was fun-size.

Luckily, Blue had a few cinnamon bunnies in the kitchen. Stretch was currently tearing off pieces and handing them to Red, watching in morbid fascination as he stuffed them into his sharp-toothed maw. How Red and Edge hadn’t accidentally bitten their own hands off as kids was a mystery for the ages.

Edge was still standing stiffly next to him and Stretch wondered idly if he’d forgotten to take out the broomstick this morning. Maybe that was what made Edge sound so surly when he snapped out, “Watch your language!”

That made Stretch blink. He played back everything he’d said recently in his head and came across a possible stumbling block. Disbelief was dripping from his voice as Stretch asked, “did you just tell me to not swear in front of your brother?”

To Stretch’s delight, a flush of red tinted Edge’s cheekbones, “He’s a baby.”

“your brother?” Stretch asked gleefully, handing another piece of cinnamon bunny to the brother in question. Red crammed it into his mouth, the pastry decimated instantly into mushy crumbs between those teeth. “i learned curses that left permanent scars on my soul from your brother.”

That blush heightened and truly, the heavens smiled down upon Stretch on this day. Edge didn’t give in, though, snapping out, “Not when he’s like that!”

“okay, okay, i’ll keep the rating to pg.” With the last bite of the bunny messily consumed, Stretch wiped Red’s face clean, neatly avoiding his snapping teeth. “all right, you little piranha, down you go.”

He plunked Red on the floor and sat crosslegged across from him, taking a quick picture of his scowling face with his little panda ears bobbling. Fucking adorable, all there was to it. That frown turned to glee when Stretch covered his own face with his hands, quickly peeking out to earn a chorus of happy baby burbling. Oh, yeah, he was a regular comedian for the one and under crowd.

Having Edge agree was unexpected. “You’re good with him.”

Stretch gave peekaboo a time out to send Edge a sour look. “thanks. i did manage with blue.”

But to his surprise, Edge shook his head. “No, Blue and I managed with you. You’re actually very good at this.”

A compliment from the Edgelord? Seemed like it was his turn to blush. Stretch rubbed at the back of his skull uncomfortably, mumbling out, “um, thanks.”

A little avoidance seemed to be in order. Stretch scooped up the baby, flopping on his back and dangling Red above him. The baby squealed happily, hands and legs flailing. Had Red ever been so happy in his actual childhood? Stretch had no way of knowing, but he had his doubts. He didn’t remember his own baby days, either time, but since Blue looked like he was gonna burst into tears anytime it came up, Stretch was guessing he wasn’t a bundle of sunshine as a kid.

He swore he heard bones creaking as Edge slowly lowered himself to the floor to sit by them. That broomstick was getting a workout today, for sure.

“babies are easy,” Stretch said, singsong, as Red crowed his happiness, “they pretty much stay where you put em and if they cry, you toss some food their way. at least we don’t have to worry about diapers.”

“Thank you for that mental image.” Edge hesitantly reached out to touch and hastily pulled his hand back when Red growled and snapped his teeth.

“nah, don’t poke his face. like this.” Stretch lowered Red to sit on his chest. With an effort, Stretch lifted his head from the floor, crossing his eye lights and sticking out his tongue with a loud, “plllllb!”

Red laughed in delight, slapping his tiny hands on Stretch’s rib cage with enough force to make him wince. “see? easy!”

“I’m sure being a fool is very easy for you.”

That made Stretch sit up with a scowl, setting Red back on the floor on his little bottom. “look, you asked for my help.”

But Edge looked a little melancholy, something almost wistful on his face as he said, “I did. And I appreciate it.”

Okay, yeah, it might be hard for someone like Edge to unwedge his broomstick enough for a little baby silliness. “there’s no one here. make a face for the baby.”

That scowl was not what Stretch had in mind. “I refuse to behave like a ridiculous—“

“c’mon,” Stretch coaxed. He made another silly face of his own and Red laughed gleefully. “see? he loves it!” The visible waver in Edge’s expression made him add with impulsive sincerity. “i won’t tell and i won’t tease. try it.”

Reluctantly, Edge pursed his mouth, crimson tongue slowly poking out and Edge blowing a raspberry was a sight that would stay with Stretch until the end of time.

More importantly, Red gave up the equivalent of a baby cackle and Edge smiled reluctantly.

“see! you’ve got some idiot in…you…” Stretch blinked, trailing off. Edge had turned towards him at the same moment Stretch leaned in and it left their faces entirely too close. Unwillingly, Stretch remembered that time in Underfell, Edge’s unexpected gentleness in the face of Stretch’s near panic at the nebulous memory of his childhood. Another brief moment of being too close and the temptation he’d felt then struck again, hastily shoved back as he had last time; it was a terrible idea, foolish and impulsive and it could only bring trouble.

Only Edge didn’t seem to have gotten the warning memo from his instincts because he leaned in and pressed their mouths together. Softly, almost chaste, a tender brush and Stretch pulled away with a gasp.

Something unreadable was glittering in Edge’s eye lights, open and vulnerable in a way he hadn’t even been when he was temporarily a baby bones himself.

“oh,” Stretch said, blankly. His own thoughts were a turmoil, what the fuck, this was…they didn’t….

“I’m sorry,” Edge said abruptly. That vulnerability was fading and it made something lurch painfully in Stretch’s soul. Edge started to stand, drawing away. But he didn’t fight when Stretch caught hold of his scarf, sinking back down as he was pulled into another kiss.

The scream of Stretch’s instincts was muffled by his soft groan as he deepened the kiss. Edge’s mouth was sweetly pliant beneath his, teeth parting, and those sharp teeth were easier to navigate like this, with equal parts care and tongue. The tang of his magic was a heady spice, his lax tongue coming slowly alive against Stretch’s and he cupped Edge’s jaw in one hand, swallowing his sigh and this was…oh, this was…

“if you two are about done, can someone get me my fucking pants?”

They jerked apart, heads turning as one to see a full-sized version of Red scowling at them. The remains of the panda pajamas were draped haphazardly over his bare pelvis, which left a horrifying amount of scarred bone on display.

Stretch cleared his throat, “i didn’t teach him that word.”

“No, I’m sure he’s known the word fuck since birth.” Edge’s brusqueness made Stretch’s soul sink, fuck, he’d known this was a stupid idea, he’dknown it.

Glumly, Stretch scooted back to sit on the couch, eye lights discreetly averted as Edge drew a pair of shorts from his inventory and handed them to his brother. He didn’t watch as Red scrambled into them, muttering increasingly foul curses beneath his breath as he accepted shirt, shoes, and jacket as well.

Only when a pair of untied sneakers appeared in his line of vision did Stretch look up again.

Red lit a cigar, exhaling a foul cloud of smoke even as he smirked. “welp, thanks for looking after me, honey bun. if it ever happens again, don’t think babysittin’ requires that much inspecting my bro’s tonsils.”

Not much Stretch could say to that. From Red’s viciously sharp grin, he knew it; it wasn’t even worth pointing out that they didn’t have tonsils. Stretch managed a mute nod and Red wandered off in the direction of the door. He didn’t wait, heading out into the snow even as Edge hesitated by the sofa.

“Thank you for your help,” Edge said stiffly and Stretch almost choked on a bitter laugh. Broomstick firmly back in place, check, and now seemed like a great time to head over to Muffet’s, get an early start in honey-laced denial.

Only the gentle touch of fingertips against his cheekbone made him startle, involuntarily looking up.

Those crimson eye lights weren’t as open as they’d been only moments before, but it was a close thing. “I’ll see you at the next movie night?”

“um, yeah, sure,” Stretch said dumbly. Those fingertips lingered, the touch firming, holding him still as Edge seemed to come to a decision. He swooped down like a damn bat, making Stretch jerk, but the soft brush of Edge’s mouth against his own again stilled him. Too brief by far and he was gone just as quickly, following his brother out with a quiet click of a closing door.

Stretch exhaled slowly, touched his mouth with trembling fingertips. How was it, he wondered distantly, that all of them were somehow getting turned into baby bones for a day but the only mystery Stretch cared about came from a kiss?

Suddenly, he was a lot more interested in watching ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ this weekend than he’d been a few hours ago. Stretch got to his feet, gathering up the shredded panda jammies and dusting cinnamon bunny crumbs off the table to disappear into the carpet.

Time to get dressed and head out to the last half of sentry duty for a nap. And if Stretch’s thoughts wandered back occasionally to the memory of a kiss, well, hey, his bro could be proud, right?

At least he was trying to solve a puzzle.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans

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piixelatedpastries · 4 years

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More promised updates, although may be a few days after this before I can get more done, we appreciate comments and likes!

Xander

Flashing her a grin I shut the door before walking around and getting in the driver’s seat, My smile more devilish than charming. "Yes, Yes it is....It,.... fits. " With a chuckle to myself at the inside joke I start the truck and head to the mall. One of my most dreaded places, yet a place I couldn't wait to take her. If I was right, I was certain she had never been to such a place before and I intended to show her what being a female was really all about.

"So, how long were you there? I've been having the dreams for almost a year now, since around October 8th of last year. at first, they were just emotions and scenes but they became stronger and more in depth more I dreamed them. I also dreamed of a vampire, any idea what that's all about? "

Realizing I knew nothing about her all the questions I wanted to ask flooded in and I had to hold them back so as not to overwhelm her.

"How old are you by the way, I realize I don't even know that, and where did you grow up?

Shaylee

The truck was moved out of park and steered back onto the road as he peppered me with questions. I watched out the window trying to find my bears at least a little, but nothing was familiar, the drive had been in the dark and everything looks different when light is shed on it.

"I guess about a year, it’s hard to keep track, the days..just melt into each other after a while. I..don't know anything about a vampire..unless that was who is buying my blood maybe? I know they were..are selling it.."

I swallowed, part of that whole life seemed like a distant nightmare already, but it wasn't, it wasn't past, it was present and future and eternity for me. I looked a bit puzzled as the truck was pulled and parked in a large parking lot, amongst hundreds of other cars, a large building with various stores stretched out in front of us.

"I guess I'm about 18 by now, if I've been there a year or close to it, I was a few months past 17..when they came."

I paused at the thought of where I grew up, the memories of my family and childhood still sharp and painful.

"I don't know exactly where I grew up, but we were in mountains..we never saw other people..my parents had to hide..themselves and us."

Xander

"Well you don't have to worry about that anymore Mon Cheri, as I've said before, you're safe now and despite what you may think, you most certainly are NOT going back there. Not over my dead body and thousands have tried and failed"

Pulling into the lot I face her, wanting to have this conversation prior entering the mall so I could give her my complete attention.

"Yeah I'm basically 18 as well, well if you remove the middle "Zero" anyways " I saw with a smirk that died on my lips as her eyes clouded with pain. I mentally kicked myself for obviously asking the wrong questions. I always was insensitive; some things never change.

"I kind of assumed you've never been to a mall before “I gesture towards the building.

"That's what this is by the way. they sell clothing and the sort. You go in, pick out what you want and then bring it home." Or at least that's how it worked you had enough money to buy the entire mall..... but guessing she knew very little of currency I left that part out. Turning to her as I caught a flash of her ears, I quickly smooth the hair over them, using the excuse to touch her satin hair.

Heading in I placed my hand lightly at the small of her back, both protective and possessively. I could only imagine the looks she would get.

Shaylee

My eyes grew a bit larger as he gave his age, not that it was completely unexpected, my own parents were considered young when they had my brother at the ripe age of 50. Time meant different things when you lived hundreds of years..or for eternity.

Following him into the mall I gazed around, my eyes growing noticeably larger as I surveyed the busy crowds of people and the store fronts all decked out to entice the buyers to stop in there. I wasn't sure how one knew even where to begin.

"I've not been anywhere..but that place. This..all this stuff you can pick out and take home? There's so much, how do you know where to start?"

I sniffed the air then, the smells of frying foods and sweet offerings greeting me, making my mouth water despite my large breakfast.

"It smells so good here, like..like heaven!"

A man approached us, causing me to shrink back for a moment as he held out a piece of paper to us each. I took mine looking down at it and reading the announcement about some Crossfire bar being remodeled with a grand reopening, noticing Xander just stuffed his paper in his pocket, I followed suit, folding it more neatly first and slipping into the back pocket of my shorts before returning my gaze to the mall and all its shops.

Xander

Guiding her with my hand at her back I steer her into one of the many clothing stores.

"Let's start here, we can get you enough clothing to last a couple weeks” I say holding up two pairs of shorts awaiting her approval. I wanted to spoil her, and that's exactly what I was going to do. I would spend all day in this hell hole and smile my way through it.

After 3 hours of clothing and shoe shopping it was time for a break, and time to feed her. As we walked to the food court I noticed she tucked her hair behind her ears again. She had a habit of this as if she didn't know she had to keep them concealed. Turning her towards me I quickly cover them again with a grin on my face, though my voice was stern.

"Those men aren't the only ones after Fae, ma Cherie, you have to blend in with the humans. Your ears set you apart, they make you noticeable, and your beauty already captivates men. I look down, grazing her cheek with my thumb before softly kissing the top of her head.

"You pick where to eat; we can go anywhere you want"

Shaylee

The selection of clothes was overwhelming. I had never seen so many outfits in one place before, and wouldn't have begun to know where to start in making selections, so it was easy to let him choose. The trying on was my favorite part, and coming out to show him. His looks didn't make me feel disgusting like the men at the playground, his eyes looked at me different then they had. I couldn't describe the difference or how I could tell, but I could feel it.

It was the same when his hand touched me, or his lips grazed my head. I didn't feel dirty or the need to shower, a warmth instead spreading through me ending at my cheeks as I looked up at him.

"I didn't think of that...no one at the place said anything about them..thought since I don't have wings no one can really tell."

My mouth hadn't stopped watering since we had walked into the mall and as we came to what was labeled Food court I finally understood where all the smells were coming from. The appearance of food heaven had me almost giddy with excitement as I bounced from one place to another surveying the menus, and looking at plates that people took away and had on their tables, choosing one was impossible.

"I want to try them all!"

Xander

Getting lost in her eyes momentarily I almost forgot I had spoken. The way she looked at me, there was no fear, even though there should have been. I was an asshole; she hadn't seen that side of me much but soon enough she would and that look would fade. I wanted to memorize it while it lasted. It had been a long time since I had seen that look of trust in a woman’s eyes like that.

I watched as she went around, looking at everyone’s plates, taking it all in, the scents, the sights. Seeing food, she had never seen before and lacking the social graces to not stare at people as they ate, clearly wanting to taste their food for herself. I took her to 6 of the 8 shops and ordered a few items off of the menu for her, and a few sandwiches for myself. Sitting down at one of the tables I watched as she unwrapped the items, eyes bugging at each bite of food she would take, before they would flutter closed momentarily with enjoyment. Her innocent pleasure keeping my eyes locked on her. "

"Eat up, after this we will go perfume shopping and to get you some jewelry, and if you have any room, I know this really great diner that serves amazing deserts." I could tell her eyes were about 100x bigger than her stomach and when she finally finished eating, I wondered if her jeans felt a little tighter as her small tummy rounded out slightly. No longer looking as starved as she had even a few hours ago. The fact making me feel fairly proud of myself for a moment. There were so many things I wanted her to experience and as the sun started setting, I knew I couldn't get through them in one day.

Shaylee

I tried a little of everything, somethings only warranted a nibble and a scrunched face, like pickles, others I didn't want to stop eating. I wanted to finish most of it, except the stuff they called hummus, that was rather repulsive, but it was an unfortunately impossible task, one I finally had to admit defeat to, my flat stomach now bulging and my shorts threatening to pop open at the button.

"I need jewelry..and perfume? I'm not sure I like perfume!"

I remembered the stuff the strippers sprayed on themselves, it made my eyes burn and my head ache, the smell so sickly sweet and strong that my stomach rolled everytime I walked into the changing room. They seemed to think it hid other smells, like the smoke and alcohol that many of them reeked of, and something else, a smell I wasn't able to place, musty and strong, almost like when papa cleaned fish from the river, but much stronger.

Xander

"Every woman needs jewelry and perfume, Ma Cherie. It's like frosting on a cake, embellishments are meant to make a woman feel pretty, though they don't need them, especially yourself, I would love to pick something out for you, as a token of my gratitude for putting up with Xanthos and not hating me for him. " My words coming out more gently then I had heard myself speak maybe ever. Somehow, she inspired nothing but kindness in me, her innocence and pure nature bringing out the best in me.

After smelling about a thousand different perfumes I finally found one that was perfect, aptly named "Ma Cherie”. It wasn't overwhelming, or cloying, and I couldn't wait to smell it on her. The Wolf approved as well, and let out a low growl of approval when she spritzed it on her neck as I had shown her to do.

"Do you like it? I think you smell incredible....."My words trailing off as I leaned in and kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent of lavender and citrus with the underlying spell of her as well. My body reacting strongly to being so close to her made me catch my breath and take a step back. Too much, way too damn fast I thought to myself.

Next, I drug her to the Jewelers and watched as she walked around in awe. completely unaware of price tags and designer cuts. Finding a sapphire in an ornate setting that would look perfect for her the day was finally done. As the jeweler wrapped up the necklace and placed it in a box, I held out my hand to her, asking her to take it instead of assuming she would.

"You ready for dessert? Or would you prefer to go home now, you're looking a bit tired" My brow creased in worry, perhaps I had overdone it today, she looked tired and it made me feel like a piece of shit, even with the little glint in her eyes still shining. Today had been long for her.

Shaylee

The perfumes he showed me were nothing like what I had smelled before, light and airy, reminding me a bit of playing in the fields at home. A scent that made me smile instead of cringe, and definitely not one that burned my nose and eyes.

The jewelry store was like walking into another wonderland. Everything sparkled and shined and each pretty trinket drew my eye to it and left my lips parted in wonder. I ran a finger softly over the sapphire necklace before it was placed in a velvet lined box.

Biting my lip at his offered hand, I placed my own into the upturned palm, my mind reeling from all I had seen today.

"I think I would love dessert, it's sweet right? Maybe..dessert at ho..your place though?"

It had been a lot to take in, and I was exhausted, but it was a happy exhausted, a kind of exhausted that I didn't mind feeling, that kept my lips tilted slightly up in a smile as I followed him back to the truck our purchased loading down his free arm.

"Today..today was like a dream..thank you."

Xander

The corner of my mouth turned up as she made the slip of almost calling my place her home, what a nice thought if it could be.... or perhaps it would be. Only time would tell. Seeing the corners of her mouth lift in a smile I felt much relieved, apparently, she wasn't as exhausted as I thought. It also hadn't been lost on me that we hadn't argued a single bit about her going back to that place, the thought hopefully harder to stomach as reality of freedom stole away the nightmares.

"Then, we will go to the house, you can change into your new night clothes and we can make a desert." I paused a moment, lifting her into the truck and staring at her a moment before closing the door and walking to my side.

"You know...... you could call it home too if you wanted.... or we could find a new place with 2 rooms so you could have your own..... if you wanted that....." The thought twisting my gut as the realization hit that I did want her to live with me, just not as my roommate.

Shaylee

"Mama use to make dessert out of berries we picked with honey. I love dessert! Do you have berries and honey?"

It was the only dessert I knew of, but the taste of those fresh berries didn't match the sweet smells that had pricked my nose at the mall. Those sweet smells were richer. My face fell a bit as he mentioned his place being my home.

"I..I can't..I need my family safe.."

It was an ice-cold splash of reality, a reminder that I wasn't free, not really. No matter how wonderful this all was it couldn't last, but the thought of returning, had me wrapping my arms tightly around me, a shiver shaking through my frame as I stared out the window as dusk settled over the city.

Xander

"Well no, I don't have berries and honey... maybe we can stop at the bakery and you can sample a few things on the way home and find a new desert you like."

Kicking myself in the ass for mentioning the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid today I put the truck in gear and head to Delilah’s a little bakery on the way to the apartment that had scones and macaroons and the like.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it, today was going so well and I'm stupid......"My words dying on my lips as I watch her close in on herself, the reality of what she felt was her situation hitting her square in the chest once more.

Not sure how to reassure her as my previous attempts had failed in the past, and then, like magic a plan started forming in my head, one where I would have to face my past and deal with my own demons, but one that would hopefully keep her from doing something stupid and getting herself killed or hurt. In that moment, I knew what had to be done.

We stopped by the bakery and I waited patiently as she tried multiple deserts until she finally found a few she wanted to take home and I had Delilah bag them up and we were on our way to the house again.

Shaylee

"Don't be sorry..today was one of the best days of my life..."

My childhood had been pretty ideal I supposed, at least compared to what I heard women talk about in the dressing rooms. My parents both loved me and my brother very much and our days were filled with the freedom of growing up in the wild. Somehow though, maybe because of all the suffering that preceded it, this day was better than all of those, sweeter. I tried to comfort myself with the thought of reliving the day during darker times, but it was small comfort.

The bakery soon had my mind distracted and spirits lifted again, as sweets like I had never tasted tickled my tongue and found me quickly addicted to the sugary delectables.

I clutched the bag in my lap like it was gold as we headed back towards the apartment. Peeking in it from time to time, dipping a finger in to steal a crumb or swipe at the sugary toppings for tiny tastes before quickly closing it again like a child caught in the cookie jar.

#Sims 3 Port Stone Rp #Port Stone rp #Shaylee Alvarie #sims 3 rp #the sims 3 #sims 3 story #sims 3 supernatural #crosswinds

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texanredrose · 7 years

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Aaaaaaand the Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU continues. I think I’m going to stick with the name ‘Queens of Vale’. It’s either that or keep calling it the Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU and that’s a lot to fucking type. Plus, the acronym makes me laugh too much. (I got you, FAMAU, lol, wtf is wrong with me.) So... yeah. Here ya go. Bonding shenanigans.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 (here) / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

A cold wind whipped through the trees, rustling bare branches and sending a few dead ones tumbling to the ground while dense grey clouds churned overhead, obscuring the sunlight and adding to the dreary feel of the day. In Atlas, such weather would be considered mild at worst and pleasant at best, a welcomed reprieve from the harsh storms that ushered in the cold season and brought snow up to one's knees and waist, but here in Vale, many residents took it as a sign that the winter would be severe, the children staying indoors while the adults bundled themselves in layers of clothing against the low temperatures. Smoke billowed up from every house in the village and a thinner column rose from the spot in the forest where the blonde's childhood home stood, but Weiss couldn't help but feel grateful they weren't inside.

Despite living in the warmer country for months, she could still feel the lingering effects from her homeland and opted for a much different ensemble compared to the others; she wore a simple, long sleeved white dress that brushed the tops of her shoes, the fabric split at the waist to allow ease of movement, and thin white pants to match, both with light blue around the hem and the little wooden ties fastened at her shoulder. Faintly- so much so she hadn't noticed herself until running her hands over the fabric- a dragon design was stitched into the dress with white thread, its tail curling around one ankle and wrapping around her waist, sweeping its way up so its neck slipped over one shoulder and the head rested over her heart. On her back, blue thread outlined her customary snowflake, and while the whole outfit was probably intended for spring or early fall, she couldn't help but relish the sharp bite of cold air filtering through the silk, a faint reminder of her home without the unwanted memories of cold, empty halls and even colder eyes.

Yang, on the other hand, looked like a knight in soft armor, bracing against the weather as best she could. Gloves and thick boots accompanied her heavy cloak and the extra tunic she wore under her vest, all dyed brown or a faded yellow, and Ember Celica's straps had to be loosened a hole to accommodate the extra padding. She even had the orange fabric Ember Celica usually rested upon while they slept wrapped around her neck and pulled up, the hood of her cloak down low to shield her face and leaving all but the sliver of skin around her eyes hidden away.

The weather had turned much colder in the days following their reconciliation, forcing the blonde out into the forest alongside her father and Ghira to help harvest the last of the wood needed before winter began in earnest. Weiss wasn't left without things to do, of course. She cleaned the house while the others were out, regaining her strength and endurance along the way, and she managed to find some old books that helped further her written Valen, the characters simple enough for her to copy and understand. When the three returned bearing bundles of wood bound by leather straps, she helped stack them by the house or took them into the village with her wife, passing them out to those who needed them. News of her recovery preceded her, with many of the villagers offering her little tokens and charms in addition to whatever they gave Yang as trade for the wood, and now she had a nice little collection of various trinkets beseeching the Fall Maiden's mercy arranged on the dresser where Myrtenaster rested. After their burdens were distributed, they returned to the little house while the sun began to set and settled in for the night. The Atlesian had insisted Yang write a letter to Blake before the Faunus returned to his kingdom, so Yang spent the time bent over a scroll, brush in hand as she tried to word her message without reflecting her lingering frustrations, while Taiyang and Weiss prepared dinner side-by-side, and Ghira regaled the lot of them with stories from Menagerie and his own versions of the Valen legends he'd learned when younger. Then, Taiyang would challenge her after dinner to the strange game of red and yellow pieces, their matches sometimes lasting late into the night and requiring them to wait until the following day to continue.

However, things had to change eventually, and the Faunus determined her fully recovered and left to bear the blonde's letter the previous day. One would think her wife would feel more at peace now that everything returned to normal, yet, Yang seemed more eager now than ever, rising with the winter sun and gently prodding her to leave the warmth of their bed.

"So, are you ready to train today?" She looked up, lilac eyes peeking out from under the hood. "I know it's not ideal conditions-"

"That can't be helped." The Atlesian feigned thoughtfulness as the wind picked up again, prompting Yang to turn her gaze skyward and watch the clouds for a moment. While the blonde was distracted, she studied the woman's posture, noticing she seemed far more relaxed now that they were back in the clearing. From what she could gather, it was the first time Yang had returned to the space since their reconciliation.

It still boggled her mind how the woman could be so adamant about being forgiven when she'd done nothing wrong but Weiss accepted that, in the end, it didn't really matter. The warrior bore her no ill will and promised to make amends when the Faunus princess next came to visit, so granting unnecessary forgiveness to put the events behind them seemed a small price to pay. Though, if she was brutally honest with herself, she rather liked how everything turned out; for as horribly as things might've gone, the Atlesian instead found herself looking at her wife in a new light.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way Yang had doted on her while she could hardly control her own body, tucking her in and lending her heat whenever needed, making sure she felt safe and grounded even while lost to the fog of her fever. Or how readily she consented to having her wound tended with just a pointed look or two, as if she felt absolutely no shame in letting the Atlesian treat her with the same care despite being a strong, decorated warrior. Then again, it could very well be the mental picture now stuck in her mind of the fearsome warrior hiding behind her while a harmless garden spider crawled across the floor that continuously struck her as... charming. It reminded her of the blonde's honest blush when confessing the meaning of her joke the night of their wedding ceremony, the open fury on her features while cursing the former King of Atlas for his transgressions against Weiss, the genuine alarm in her voice when she realized she'd fallen dead asleep while snoring loud enough to rattle the panes of the window in their bedroom- a very endearing sort of fallibility she appreciated more and more with every passing day.

It might be all those things, which culminated in the realization that Yang Xiao Long, warrior Queen of Vale, stood as exactly the opposite of what Atlas would consider a proper noble. She accepted her faults- especially the ones that only she thought of as such- she never failed to be open and honest, and it seemed her sense of fairness skewed in the favor of whoever she dealt with rather than herself. The novelty of it all still hadn't worn off. Weiss' father would have a heart attack were any child of his to act in a similar fashion.

Well, a daughter of Atlas she may be, but embracing a few of her new kingdom's customs seemed appropriate, and the one she wanted to exemplify today stemmed from that reassuring touch and warmth she'd felt while being thrown from one extreme to another, the genuine care with which the blonde had treated her when she was at her weakest. She wanted to repay that, and despite how calm Yang looked now, Weiss could still see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers seemed a hair's breadth away from curling into fists. Every time they settled down for bed, she could feel the restless energy running through the blonde's frame.

It would be easier, she eventually decided, to burn off some of that energy before trying to discuss anything. "Where should we start?"

"We start with principles," Yang replied, tapping a finger against her temple. "Your semblance is part of you- your very spirit released and honed like any blade, but a sword's no good if the person holding it doesn't understand how it's meant to be used." The blonde looked around, shaking herself as if to ward off the chill in the air despite her layers. "Let's go through the forms as a warm-up."

She nodded, settling into her stance, dimly aware of Myrtenaster pressing against her hip. Wearing her weapon again after the few days of bed rest felt odd at first, like suddenly becoming aware of a limb that had fallen asleep, turning and flexing the newly rediscovered muscles until everything felt right again. Across from her, with about four feet between them, stood the blonde, mirroring her position. On an unspoken count, they began moving, flowing from one position to another as reflections. By this point, she didn't question which of them moved first- if she followed the warrior's lead or vice versa. The motions felt natural, repetition making them familiar despite the comparatively short amount of time she'd had to study them- methodical, measured, calming- and her breathing slowed to match the rhythm of each transition, finding comfort in the practice.

"Have I ever told you how good your form is?"

"You've called me beautiful before, yes," she replied, lifting the corner of her mouth in a smirk. "Or did you mean something else?"

Yang blinked, surprise shining bright in lilac orbs before she chuckled. "Oh, so someone has jokes, is that it?"

"I've learned more than just exercises and breathing techniques from you." Both of them slid from one pose to the next, shifting from being as fluid as water to solid as stone, then light as the breeze and, in brief flashes, quick as a flame. The forms corresponded with the Maidens- the guiding deities the Valens turned to- and the entire exercise emphasized how they worked together to create the whole. While she didn't personally subscribe to the religious connotations, Weiss could appreciate the story they wove. "Your teaching skills are superb, by the way. Perhaps I've mentioned that?"

"You have, but you forget: I have an excellent student." The blonde twisted her hips in time, so they stood side-by-side, and the two took steps forward in tandem while moving through the later forms.

Their feet brushed across the barren ground, any grass that might've once grown there long ago trampled by Yang's use of the clearing, each step muted in the cold morning air. They twisted and turned, following the poses until the final one, which brought them both back to center, once again standing across from one another, though... it certainly looked like they'd drifted closer, somehow.

Not that she was complaining, of course.

Together, they drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, allowing the tension to flow from their muscles, ready to begin the training in earnest.

"Can you feel your semblance?" Through her scarf, the blonde's breath came out as wisps of white fog, curling in front of her face like smoke. "Where is it?"

"Yes, it's..." Weiss closed her eyes briefly, acutely aware of the familiar chill thrumming through her body, at harmony with the cold of the season while remaining distinct. Ever since falling under the tea's sway, she'd been able to feel the cold within her easily, as if it couldn't quite retreat to wherever it hid before. However, right now she could feel a concentration of the internal energy resting in her chest, and she brought one hand up to hover over the point. "It's everywhere, but strongest here."

"That's great!" Her eyes sparkled like gems, conveying the mile wide smile currently hidden from view. "You've got the two most important parts down, then. First, you have to know what it is. Then, where it is." She lifted her arms, curling her hands into tight fists and allowing them to hover in front of her face. As she shifted to the balls of her feet, the air around her rippled, the cold driven back as steam began to rise off her clothes while lilac morphed into blood red. "It's a part of you, in every bone and muscle and your very skin, ebbing and flowing with every heartbeat, and controlling it is second nature, like breathing." The blonde threw a few jabs at the air- quick strikes that Weiss almost couldn't follow with her eyes- as her feet danced beneath her as she battled an imaginary opponent. As she drew near to one edge of the clearing, the warrior reared back, eyes sharpening to throw a punch aimed at a nearby tree that never actually made contact, heat rippling out from the points of her knuckles and somehow turning the withered bark black as the dried wood began to smoke and smolder. The Atlesian nearly stepped back in surprise; of all the times she'd felt the fire burning within her wife's soul, she'd never imagined it could manifest in such a destructive manner. All those reports- stories her father passed off as shaken soldiers allowing their imaginations to run wild- depicting the Queen of Vale as a dragonspawn wreathed in flame seemed much more accurate than before. After a moment, Yang drew back from the tree, taking another deep breath and releasing it slowly. "Your semblance is a weapon that needs only a thought to be drawn; if you know what it is and where it is, you can wield it with just as much ease as you move Myrtenaster." She chuckled, her stance relaxing. "After all, the best defense is a good offense."

Pale brows furrowed. "You mean, the best offense is a good defense."

"Uh... no?" The blonde chuckled nervously, obviously replaying the words in her head to ensure she'd said the right thing. Satisfied she hadn't misspoken, she coughed into her hand. "Is... that what you were taught?"

"Of course," she replied, absolutely certain of her answer. "For centuries, Atlas has faced threats from within and without our borders- the other, former nations of Mantle, the ferocious beasts that roam the remote regions, raiders and bandits- and we have maintained a strong standing army to defend ourselves against them. It's how my father unified Mantle when the civil war erupted."

A small pause followed her words where the other woman fidgeted, looking almost nervous and also a little confused. "Well, that... explains a lot." Brows creasing in concern, the Atlesian took a step forward, silently bidding her wife continue. "During the later parts of the invasion, Atlas' soldiers would land on Vale's shores and try to build fortifications, or turn our existing structures into ones." She spread her hands. "But this is our home and each one of us is capable of fighting. We outmaneuvered them, rendered their defenses useless, and struck when they were exhausted from the effort of trying to turn our own land into unfamiliar territory. We had no strong defense to speak of ourselves- no walls to hide behind- but every time Atlas soldiers mounted an attack, we met them with greater force and broke their ranks, turned their neat lines into chaos, and they couldn't recover." Lilac met blue briefly before being redirected towards the ground. "With an emphasis on defense, Atlas stands strong against invasions, like an aegis. But aggressive action requires the force and decisiveness of a blade's edge. The blunt strength of a shield can only do so much damage; it takes wielding it just right to get the same effect."

"I suppose you have a point. The other nations of Mantle had comparatively smaller forces than Atlas. We overwhelmed them; had the armies been evenly matched... I'm not sure we would've triumphed." She conceded, shoulders falling slightly at the reminder of her father's foolishness. "We truly stood no chance at successfully invading Vale, did we?" Immediately, she shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. "It doesn't matter. My former countrymen couldn't manifest their semblance the way Valens can, so I suppose it's a moot point."

"Well, there's still a lesson to be learned from that way of thinking. It all comes down to discipline, really." Yang stepped towards her, lightly laying her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "When I say 'the best defense is a good offense', I mean that drawing out your semblance is, in itself, an aggressive action. It's pulling a weapon that formerly hadn't been brought to bear out into the open, like unsheathing a blade. You might only use it to block or parry, but that's still your sword doing the work. Does that make sense?"

She bit her lip, looking down at the ground between them. "I... think."

"That's okay; it'll become clearer with time. It's just a mentality you're not used to," the blonde said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But, I think there's something inside of you that understands it on a deeper level. I caught a few glances your way while you dueled Blake; she couldn't break your defense and, when your semblance manifested, it acted as a shield, blocking Adam's attack. Now that I know how heavily your people emphasized defense, that makes sense- it's how you're naturally inclined to manifest your energy."

As much as it pained her to admit such, she couldn't quite take pride in that assessment. "She got very close a few times."

"Maybe, but 'very close' is as good as 'not', in that case. I can't tell you how many times I've almost had an ax or a sword slice into my throat, or an arrow embedded in my back." She held up a hand, keeping her thumb and forefinger just slightly apart. "Sometimes, only that much separates you from death- it's the difference between a missed attack and a killing blow."

She raised a brow at the word choice. It seemed strange to her, how easily Yang spoke of the dance with death. It reminded her of the difference between their homelands, how Atlesians looked at war as a grim but ultimately necessary tool to expand their nation's borders and defend against the 'barbaric' peoples of the world. Valens, meanwhile, thought of it as an integral part of life, another form of the eternal struggle between opposing forces. Day and night, light and dark, hot and cold- Taiyang had gone on at length about them while teaching her the encircling game but never in a negative light, as if such a thing shouldn't exist. It simply did. "I suppose it comes down to strength, then?"

"Or speed. Or skill. Or cunning." The blonde moved, holding both arms out wide before curling her hands into fists and bringing them up. The effect was lessened by the layers of clothing she wore but Weiss could still make out the bulges of hard won muscles straining against the fabric, drawing tight across her arms and chest, almost as if she might rip the very seams. "Strength is my approach of choice, obviously, but it doesn't have to be yours." She heard the smile in her wife's voice and continued staring long after both arms dropped. "You'll figure out how to wield the weapon once you have a firm grip on it, when you can feel its heft and balance for yourself. What matters is that you're decisive when wielding it and, unlike any other weapon, your semblance will never leave your hand; you can only be disarmed if you allow your spirit to be broken."

She met the warrior's gaze, brows pinching together, feeling as if Yang was talking in circles. "Then how do I draw it? How do I control it?"

"Easy." The warrior shifted her stance, moving her right foot back and raising both fists. "You need to tag me."

"Excuse me?"

"Tag me." She shrugged, a little lost as to how to explain. "You know. A punch, a slap- just get a hand on me somehow." Then she pulled down her scarf enough to flash a little grin. "And if you actually manage to knock me to the ground, I'll give you a kiss." Almost too quick to catch, something flashed across Yang's expression, eyes widening and her lips quivering before they pulled a little wider. A month or more ago, she might've been fooled, but Weiss could tell when her wife was faking cheer to keep others from being concerned by this point. She'd seen it enough during the journey back to Patch. "Or maybe breakfast in bed, or I can cook dinner one night? I'm a pretty good chef."

Ah, so that was it. Narrowing her eyes, Weiss settled into a stance of her own- a fencer's pose, the same discipline Yatsuhashi had taught her what seemed like a lifetime ago- with her left arm outstretched towards her opponent and her right curled into a fist at the small of her back. How he came by the knowledge escaped her but he taught her well and she wouldn't disappoint. After all, how different could a game of this 'tag' be from a duel? "I accept your challenge."

Lilac eyes brightened, her guard lowering ever so slightly to beckon her forward with both hands. "Alright. You have until lunch. Now, let's see what you got."

She didn't move, biding her time and analyzing the situation. Yatsuhashi had warned against such goads when first instructing her during the journey to Patch; he emphasized striking only when she felt ready, never allowing another to dictate her motions or else forfeit the battle before it began.

"From great wars to solitary duels- in the end, all conflict is decided by who retains control," he'd said, holding his large greatsword perfectly level with one hand. It stood as tall as he did, weighed more than she could carry, and gleaned under the fading sun like the strange, staggered pauldron that covered his off arm and functioned as a shield. "If you sacrifice control of self, you will never gain control of the conflict."

While this may not be as serious a battle, the test laid before her required her utmost attention, studying the way the blonde awaited her opening maneuver. Weight on the balls of her feet, hands up, her center of balance high and evenly dispersed. Bringing her down wouldn't be easy... but it was possible.

As the wind picked up, she rushed forward, darting her hand low to get beneath the woman's guard. She missed, the blonde skipping back a step and rolling to her right to dodge the obvious follow up swipe, and so they began their dance around the clearing. Weiss pressed forward relentlessly, trying to back the warrior into a tree, but just when she thought all avenues of escape were cut off, Yang would surprise her- jumping clear over her head accompanied by a blast of heat, sliding beneath her outstretched arm, stopping her momentum too quick for the smaller woman to do the same, steam streaming behind her in wisps. Always maintaining her balance, the upper hand, and always with that little grin in place- she was having fun as the Atlesian's frustration mounted. As the smaller of the two, one would think she could move quicker, change direction easier, but she found herself thwarted with every attempt. If she darted to the left, so would Yang, somehow anticipating her actions the moment she decided on them, remaining just out of arm's reach. Simply thrusting her arms forward never worked- the blonde would dodge to one side or another and skip a few steps away- and swinging horizontally or vertically produced similar results.

Defending was always the easier of the two sides to pick, in her opinion. Assess your weaknesses, decide if they should be strengthened or intentionally weakened to draw in the enemy, and keep your greatest strength a closely guarded secret. When attacking, one had to be ruthlessly efficient, because the opponent would capitalize on every mistake, every extra bit of expended energy gone to waste, and Weiss could feel the sweat dripping from her brow as they continued variations of the same dance all over the clearing, with her wife sometimes ducking behind trees to create distance. Her breath started to burn her lungs, begging her to stop, but she pressed forward, pushing aside everything; she would not be so easily defeated.

Through it all, Yang was careful, never using her forearms to block or redirect the Atlesian's momentum. The metal of her cestus gleamed in the weak light of the sun peaking through heavy clouds, the barbs designed to catch blades and shred skin never coming even close to Weiss. If anything, the blonde seemed to keep her arms up out of habit, muscle memory burned too deep to be set aside despite the obvious effort made to merely duck and dodge rather than counterattack. Theoretically, it should've made the warrior's movements more predictable, easier to gauge, limiting her in reactions and freeing her opponent to go all out in pursuit of her goals.

Reality, however, proved her wrong at nearly every turn.

The longer the exercise went on, the heavier she breathed, not used to nearly so much movement and just a week past being on bed rest. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, each breath scorching as she sucked it in, trying desperately to catch just the fabric of her wife's vest if nothing else, but even that eluded her. For her part, Yang seemed a bit amused, her smile never dimming and her breathing not nearly as labored despite the sheen of sweat collecting on her face, bangs becoming plastered to her forehead.

Finally, her frustration mounted, and she realized the only way she would possibly win this little game would be to force the blonde to react to a move she didn't plan to make. She would have to change her momentum before her wife could register it; she had to rely on not just speed but her ability to misdirect. With her plan firmly set in mind, Weiss lunged to her right, and the other woman, of course, broke the other way. Then she did it again, and again, until they were circling the clearing in an odd shape, straight jagged lines cut every time the Atlesian struck towards the right and her quarry skipped away. In those lilac eyes, she could see that Yang knew what she planned- had to, she'd done nothing to hide it- and seemed ready to break to the right the moment she gave an indication that she would switch her pattern.

She lifted her left hand, clearly expressing her intent, and her wife read it immediately, shifting her weight to break back towards the Atlesian's right, but waiting for her to commit first. Which she did, beginning her lunge to the left, prompting Yang to move the other way. However, that first change in direction brought with it a slightly shorter back step, something she'd noticed throughout the exhausting exercise. In that moment, her resolve solidified, the cold energy within her pushing out and invigorating every muscle, and Weiss capitalized on it, jumping back to her right and throwing herself forward.

Lilac eyes widened in surprise as the woman's arms immediately went behind her, preparing to break their fall, because while she'd finally figured out how to beat the warrior at her game, she didn't quite take the most graceful option. Her shoulder slammed into the blonde's chest, both of them going to the ground as neither could keep their balance, landing with her wife flat on her back and Weiss somewhat curled up on top of her.

The warrior groaned, raising a hand to her head where she'd hit the ground hard, prompting the smaller woman to push herself up using her arms. "Yang? Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She chuckled, smiling up at the Atlesian. "I knew you could do it."

Puffing out a breath, Weiss shook her head, sitting up and just barely registering that she now effectively straddled the woman beneath her before she spoke. "As amusing as it may be to you, I'm not sure what it accomplished." She crossed her arms over her chest, surprised to find that she wasn't gasping for air, a stark contrast to hardly a minute ago. She felt a little tired, perhaps, but her muscles weren't complaining and her breath came even and steady. Strange. "But I expect to receive my reward regardless." A pause followed as she weighed her words, looking down into her wife's lilac eyes before speaking. "You promised me a kiss."

They hadn't spoken about it. Noble Atlesian wedding ceremonies carried few traditions outside of the giving of gifts, the exchanging of rings, and the eventual bedding; frankly, more concern was given to the seating of guests and displaying the proper heraldry than the ceremony itself. Vale, in contrast, had many nuances to their unions- the burning of incense, the chanting of the soothsayer, the exchanging of weapons, and on the list went- but physical affection... well, in the kingdom across the sea, the bedding itself served as all that would be required on that front, aside from the necessary task of providing heirs. In Vale, she couldn't tell. The villagers of Patch seemed affectionate, often exchanging kisses in greeting or farewell, giving hugs freely to family members and friends, and sometimes the children would even run through the streets and latch onto whatever adult didn't have their hands full.

But Yang didn't push one way or another. She initiated some contact, yes- brief embraces to comfort, chaste kisses to the top of her head to reassure, a lingering touch on her arm for guidance- but never asked for anything to be reciprocated, and Weiss certainly hadn't taken the lead.

Except when they were sleeping. The night of their bedding, she'd allowed her wife to hold her, telling herself that it was only for the practicality of the position- to keep the dreaded snoring at bay- but the night her wife returned to the bedroom with her eye nearly cut to the bone and swollen shut proved otherwise. While the blonde slept, she'd gathered her courage and laid down beside her, curling around the solid warmth and pressing a soft kiss to Yang's forehead, even as she began to snore. She'd already spent enough time acutely aware of how empty the bed felt without her wife and hoped the woman wouldn't begrudge her the comfort. Which she didn't, initiating their usual contact upon waking, and the sleepy apology that followed never failed to pull a small smile from her whenever she thought of it.

So, this would be new- a new challenge to overcome, a new boundary to test. With luck, perhaps it would chase away those lingering agitations that plagued the woman. Even if it didn't... she felt like it was a step they'd take eventually. Might as well test the waters now, to better prepare herself later.

Surprise showed plain in the blonde's face, which was almost immediately overtaken by a broad grin. "Yeah, I did. But first..." One brow raised. "How did you change direction without touching the ground?" Thrown off by the question, the Atlesian looked towards the spot, expecting to see some mark from where she'd pushed off- because she did touch the ground, had to, in order to push off with enough force to cut Yang off and then spring forward- but instead found the fading remnants of her family sigil, the white snowflake slowly breaking apart and disappearing into nothingness. She stared, mouth popping open as her jaw went slack, confused as to how she'd managed to conjure such a thing without thinking. "Using your semblance is second nature, like breathing." As Weiss continued staring, the woman beneath her shifted, pushing herself up into a sitting position without forcing the Atlesian from her lap. "But you breathe subconsciously long before you're able to control it."

She remembered how the cold spread through her in an instant, her own soul surging in response to her plan, ensuring that the moment she needed to move, she could. Decisive, the blonde had called it, an aggressive action- now she understood that Yang hadn't meant that she should focus on attacking someone to draw it out. The energy within her could be both sword and shield, and even more- it could take whatever form she needed. Right then, she needed something solid to push off of, and her chi immediately provided that, just like it blocked the bull horned Faunus what seemed like a short lifetime ago. It functioned as an extension of her will just like Myrtenaster served as her arm.

"I... I did that." She spoke out of awe more than disbelief, yet the edges of her voice lilted just slightly, almost indicating a question.

"Of course you did." Then the blonde moved, leaning forward and pressing her lips to one pale cheek while Weiss' gaze remained focused on the slowly dissipating snowflake, which winked out of existence the moment she realized what was happening. She stiffened at first, surprised, but realized that she should've expected such- Yang would take whatever option demanded the least from the other woman- and relaxed, waiting for the blonde to draw away before turning her head. At first, lilac eyes stayed hidden beneath her sweat slicked bangs, her head tilted down. "I knew you could."

"Thank you," she replied, gently slipping a hand beneath her wife's chin and coaxing her gaze up. When their eyes met, she could see the faint blush in the warrior's cheeks and it curled her own lips into a soft smile. For a moment, she thought about leaning forward and initiating a kiss herself- it would only take a few inches- but something held her back. A chiding tutor's voice echoing in the back of her mind, chastising her for giving those peasant fancies a passing thought, saying such public displays were uncouth, unseemly, and barbaric.

Something must've shown- or perhaps nothing did, but the warrior Queen was always extremely perceptive- because Yang raised a hand, cupping the cheek she'd just kissed and allowing her thumb to slide towards pale lips. "Next time?"

Lilac met blue, the remainder of the words left unspoken but understood regardless. "Next time."

"Okay." Through the brightening of her blush, the blonde's smile stretched wide. "How about we take a break?" Weiss nodded, carefully extracting herself and offering a hand to help the other woman up, leaning back to act as a counterbalance to the warrior's superior weight. Upon standing, Yang took a step back and curled her right hand into a loose fist, laying her left over it and bowing her head, motions which the Atlesian quickly copied, having temporarily forgotten how the Valens ended their friendly sparring matches since her last bout with Yatsuhashi. When they straightened up, the blonde stepped forward and carefully put a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding them towards a small bundle she'd brought with them. "I, uh, packed us a lunch."

"When?" Not that Weiss wasn't grateful, seeing as she'd suddenly become aware that all that exertion had worked up her appetite. She'd chased her wife around the clearing for hours, the sun now high overhead despite being obscured by the clouds. "We left so quickly this morning..."

"Last night, while you were bathing." Yang cleared her throat, almost seeming like she had more to say but instead turning her attention to the package, revealing two bowls with rice and two more filled with steamed dumplings, plus two little bottles.

"You brought wine to training?"

"I brought it for celebration." The blonde smiled wide, sitting down and crossing her legs. Her wife invited the Atlesian to join her, which she did, tucking her legs beneath her and accepting one set of bowls and a bottle of the sweet rice wine. Although she couldn't drink it with the same enthusiasm the warrior did, she'd grown a bit fonder of it over the past few months. "I had a feeling you'd be able to get the hang of it before we stopped for our first break." She chuckled. "You're too stubborn to have quit before then."

Weiss brushed some dirt from her knee before opening the bowl with the dumplings, picking one out with her chopsticks and holding it a moment to raise a brow at her wife. "I might've passed out."

"Then it would be a pick-me-up when you regained consciousness!" Yang teasingly clicked her sticks together before starting on her bowl of rice.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Ever the optimist."

They ate in silence a while, the heat from their activities protecting them from their cooling sweat. With just the clinking of wood against ceramic and the wind blowing through the dead trees, she had plenty of time to consider her next actions carefully. Now seemed to be as good a time as any to address her concerns, both of them in high spirits after making such progress, but... was it wrong for her to want to hold onto that feeling a little longer? Surely she could put things off another day or two without any detriment. She didn't want to come off as intrusive- her wife continued to be patient and respectful of her every wish, and it would only be fair for her to be the same- yet she'd also promised to be more forthcoming on the things that plagued her mind, and this certainly had over the past few days. Curiosity mixed with a bitter sort of understanding- she didn't expect to be surprised by the answers she sought yet still felt inclined to ask.

Shouldn't she just leave the matter alone?

"Is something on your mind?" She looked up, now aware that her contemplative silence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I... have a question, actually." Yang tilted her head, enough of an indication for her to continue. "Who is Summer?"

She didn't expect a particular reaction, aside from either remorse or anger, but braced herself anyway.

What she got... troubled her.

#Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU #Queens of Vale fanfic #Freezerburn #TRR writes

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getallemeralds · 7 years

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do uh, nonfatal explosion, or sprigs

OH MAN…. OKAY…. for reference:

nonfatal explosion = Yuta Asahina from Danganronpa: Another Episode / Ultra Despair Girls, au where i survived the bracelet but down an arm and probably other injuries but the arm is the most notable bECAUSE ITS AN ENTIRE ARM

sprigs = Patrick Sprigs aka Gemini Spark White from Megaman Starforce, mostly canon-compliant but a lot of my memories are from years after the game– i left the echo ridge area to get therapy after the sheer fuckery that was SF1 and me attempting to destroy the world and returned around the time of SF3. i ALSO REALLY HATE ARTHUR “ACE” EOS OR WHATEVER HIS NAME IS I JUST REALLY DONT LIKE HIM :V

1. what was your kin/id’s favourite food?

yuta: anything sweet? or like Anything honestly just. someone stop this gremlin boy

sprigs: i have a specific memory involving neapolitan ice cream sandwich bars that was actually very positive so, that i guess :V

2. name something your kin/id studied!

yuta: i actually dont remember a lot of being pre-despair and i yelled DUMPSTER BOY DOES NOTHING internally so. RIP,

sprigs: psychology! as a hobby, kind of. lots of figuring out what was going on in their mess of a life.

3. a favourite canon area?

yuta: i visited hope’s peak once and it was awesome, everyone was Super Cool and sonia nevermind gave me a spheal named Balbatross

sprigs: i mean obv theres the dream island park, but i also liked wandering around … OH WOW DID I REALLY FORGET THE NAME? [googles] AMAKEN!!! i liked visiting AMAKEN with geo cause he was a Space Nerd and i was also a lowkey space nerd (not as much as i am now lmfao)

4. element associated with your kin/id?

yuta: water? KIND OF IRONIC BUT (my near-death experience / canon death involves trying to swim out of the city of Fuck and exploding bc of the bracelet)

sprigs: lightning! electricity in general tbh. pzap.

5. who have you met from your canon?

yuta: i knew a Whole Lot Of People but they were. really toxic. fml. BUT I KNOW KORA! AND RU!! IN YOUR SYSTEM!!! KORA SCARED ME ONE TIME IN A 7/11

sprigs: IVE ONLY MET ONE OTHER SFKIN i havent talked to them in ages despite being in a discord server with them? theyre like the sweetest geo ever (and i hope i didnt creep them out by my constant whining when i had a sideblog for this ID lmao)

6. things in every day life that remind you of your canon?

yuta: hmmmm not a lot? like specific songs do i guess :0 and sometimes im like I WANT 2 JOG but i dont have the stamina but if im in a strong yuta shift ill be vibrating 24/7 bc i was so physically active in that life

sprigs: ngl sometimes system stuff does? cause. i was a system. a very shitty system but. :V sometimes bickering w/ mae or ink reminds me of talking to rey and i go “aw” for a bit.

7. favourite scents from your canon?

what i tried to say: i dont associate via scent very well

what i almost said: I DONT HAVE A NOSE

8. what weather did your kin/id like the most?

yuta: SUN,,,, lies facedown on the ground and just. photosynthesizes. (towa city was always clouded over and Sinister, i hated it, legit all my memories of towa are just “dark and sad”)

sprigs: mild rainshowers were nice :>

9. what talents/ skills did you have as your kin/id?

yuta: I WANT YUTA TO RUN!!! i think i decided that if i went to hope’s peak i would’ve been SHSL Track Star or something like that. i could also swim which is something i cant do at front :V (edit from after question 12: ALSO CAN WE APPRECIATE THE SELF-GIVEN TITLE OF “SHSL NONFATAL EXPLOSION”)

sprigs: i think i did some sort of fabric crafts thing? not like, knitting, uhhh. SEWING thats the word. i also gardened. shoves my entire arms into the dirt. this is my home

10. do you like how the fandom portrays your kin/id?

yuta: does the fandom even acknowledge me? i think fandom thinks im a Dumb Idiot and honestly, true though,

sprigs: GOD DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED, NO,

11. what would you have done differently in your canon?

yuta: i mean, not exploding would’ve been nice? asides from that, i wish i’d stayed with komaru more. she had no idea i was alive for a pretty long time and that must’ve sucked. heck.

sprigs: I MEAN , NOT TRY TO DESTROY THE WORLD , also fucking, tell geo what the hell was wrong with me , but it was kind of a hard position to be in? bc rey was literally a trauma split from horrific childhood abuse (moreso than was revealed canonically, for me) and i was just a middleschooler. also staying in contact with geo while overseas (the bonus boss in sf2 isnt canon for me) because from his perspective i just dropped off the map bc i was too ashamed to talk to him. ALSO HEY @ SELF DONT FUCKING DESTROY GEO’S TRUST IN EVERYONE, MAYBE,

12. what outfit did you like best in your canon?

yuta: i love my hoodie!! but it got Fucking Wrecked for obvious reasons augh. theres art of Nonfatal Explosion Yuta w/ a NGE shirt that i vaguely remember owning haha

sprigs: my canon outfit |D i was very upset when i outgrew it so i kept trying to find clothes similar to it

13. in a modern setting, what would you as your kin/id wear?

yuta: was near-modern so p much same

sprigs: fashion sense in 22XX makes no sense but like. big ol sweaters. armwarmers. comfy

14. did you have a favourite memory of your canon?

yuta: visiting hope’s peak is the most vivid bc i got to meet all my friends? heck? and i vaguely remember reuniting with komaru and it was great. there were hugs.

sprigs: pretty much any time i was Actually Talking To Geo In A Healthy Way lmfao what the fuck was Up with me

15. name a favourite person in your canon!

yuta: komaru!! she was my bff actually. and my sister, aoi

sprigs: IF YOU CANT GUESS “GEO STELAR” BY NOW THEN IM NOT TRYING HARD ENOUGH

16. did you like life in your canon?

yuta: pre-apocalypse? yeah :0 post-apocalypse? NOT REALLY,,, but i did at least feel like i was Doing Something? fighting despair!! but like it was 100% awful, actually, but at the time i was trying to Not Think About It bc otherwise id like. fall down and not get back up. oops.

sprigs: noT REALLY,,, like even looking back on it i kep being like. i was such a wreck. literally everything possible went wrong in patrick sprigs’s life. even Good Periods had bad shit happen, like i got outed to everybody by ace? which is like half of why i hate him? it was immensely awful augh

#stellar genome;#long post /#VERY LONG SRY #willyzepp #leos reply #leo chirps

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burst-bomb-bitch · 7 years

Text

The Adventures of Coyote and Dragonfly

new fic!! longest one i’ve ever worked on, hope you like! it’s a miraculous ladybug au and i’ve been super hyped about finishing this chapter all week!

read on ao3

Chapter: 1/14 Word Count: 6k Rating: T Pairing(s): mchanzo

Summary: Hanzo’s life is in turmoil: his family’s crime dynasty is falling to pieces, he and his brother are trapped in a desolate American town while their father handles business, and a sudden crop of horrible magical monsters have appeared out of nowhere in their new home of Santa Fe. Suddenly, he’s offered a chance to take control of his supernatural problems: Between fighting with his brother, attending school in a foreign country, and saving the city from terrifying beasts, he definitely doesn’t need a stupid crush on his plate, too, but magic can’t fix everything...

Hanzo’s nose was nearly flush with the dusty train window, body pressed uncomfortably close to the car’s peeling wallpaper as his brother snoozed on his shoulder. Genji’s body bridged their first-class seats and Hanzo propped his chin up on his wrist, eyes trained to the red rock outside the window that swallowed him with the rattle and shake of each passing mile, feeding on his own tiredness as it had his brother’s. The landscape may as well have been Martian, as alien as it was - even the sky was orange, though he supposed that was more due to the late hour than the desert. Every little pink flower he spied sprouting from a jade cactus was a pang in his stomach that ached to return home against his father’s wishes, but he was trapped on an old-fashioned train - still running on tracks, he couldn’t believe it when they had boarded - headed into the heart of the barren desert. What his father saw in this place, this country even, was a mystery to him, but he would sooner go to hell than disobey the man that had raised him and earned his respect for his fearless leadership of the clan. Never before had he seen such an terror in the old man’s eyes than when he herded his two sons into the back of an unmarked black car, windows tinted and headlights cut in the dark of midnight; the vision of the frantic goodbye still clung to Hanzo’s mind, tainting his fond memories of the timid summer breezes in the courtyard of his childhood home as he tried desperately to recall them for comfort.

Bumping and lurching along its track, the train was blissfully unaware of his conflicts. Clouds of dust in the hues of a sunset danced around the great beast’s wheels and puffed up around Hanzo’s little looking glass to the outside world beyond the buzz of the air conditioning and his brother’s sour breath on his cheek. He made a mental note to tell Genji to brush his teeth when they arrived at their temporary apartment, he had neglected to do so during their travels. Unlike his brother, seemingly, he was fed up with sleeping during the day, drawing shut the heavy curtains of cheap motel rooms and moonless nights of driving across the American continent until the omnic their father had left as their driver and guardian had finally produced train tickets to their final destination - Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Before they had left, his father had explained the choice, albeit briefly. Out of all of his dirty business connections halfway across the world, none was as loyal to the family as the Deadlock Gang that roamed the red desert of the Southwest. They were a pack of wild dogs, faithful to the last breath, and the leader of the Shimada had earned their trust long ago. He had not contacted them yet - for lack of knowledge of their swift departure, he claimed, but the gang knew his face, knew of Hanzo and Genji. They would be safe in America until order was restored to their home. Fraternizing with such a gang was not exactly Hanzo’s idea of a good time, but he would do anything to put his father’s mind at peace.

The sky had again taken to an inky color when the train finally scuttled into the station. Genji woke with a loud yawn and a lanky stretch of his bare arms, a smack of his dry lips and Hanzo rolled his eyes.

“Father’s absence is no excuse to fall behind on your hygiene, brother,” he scolded in Japanese as he stood from his seat with a much more reserved pop of his joints. Genji snickered and stood himself, blowing a puff of hot air at Hanzo’s nose. The older boy faux-gagged and shoved Genji towards the train doors as he gathered their small amount of luggage. Their guardian was in storage a few cars back, which seemed a little unfair, but it had insisted.

The omnic rented a car for the short drive into town, and they traveled mostly in silence. Genji was awake, at least, but he kept his attention turned to the window, as did Hanzo. As much as he loved the classic look of his hometown, he had to admit the attraction of the architecture, ancient-looking stone cast in the soft yellow glow of street lamps made for a pleasant change of the scenery from the desert train ride - no two structures looked entirely the same, in fact, until they hit the city center.

As they entered the apartment nestled in one of the moderate high-rises, Hanzo realized with a drop in his stomach how well-prepared his father had been for an emergency such as this. It was fully furnished: a few thin carpets covered the pale wood of the floor and a sofa sat opposite a television in the parlor, a ring of keys to a car parked in the building garage on the kitchen counter. The apartment itself was pleasant enough, but it signalled a warning deep in his mind that their departure was not as impromptu as he had been lead to believe.

Genji ignored the lightly decorated living room and plowed through Hanzo with his suitcase, ducking his head into the two rooms down the hallway one by one as the omnic backed out of the doorway to return the rental car, informing them that it would return shortly.

“Yeah, yeah. Dibs on this one!” Hanzo fumbled out of his thoughts, following Genji’s voice towards their bedrooms. He wandered through the open door to the unclaimed room and tucked his bags into the empty closet, then collapsed onto a plush white comforter tucked into the tall bed. The room itself was fairly plain, but a heavy pair of blue velvet drapes hung parted to reveal a small balcony overlooking the street and bustling city below, and the bed frame and dresser were a rich cherry-tinted wood reminiscent of his room back at the castle in Hanamura. Comfortable enough for an extended stay, but he was too tired to ponder the ramifications of that. Hanzo kicked off the pair of Genji’s sneakers he had borrowed and burrowed himself under the blankets, passing out before remembering that Genji had not yet brushed his teeth.

A sliver of sunlight tickling Hanzo’s eyes the next morning stirred him a few hours before noon - perhaps one benefit to sneaking across the country in a matter of days was the lack of jet lag. Abrasive fabric stuck to his collar and stomach as he squirmed under the heavy blankets, recalling that he had forgotten to remove his - or his brother’s, rather - clothes before falling asleep. Genji’s modern wardrobe was better suited to blending into the city, no matter how garish the colors. His own training armors and robes would look out of place even in the majority of their own country, so Genji’s t-shirts and jeans it was, for the both of them.

Rolling out from under the covers and stumbling on his sleeping toes, Hanzo sludged to the door of his new room. Light from the balcony window forced his eyes shut to a squint as he cracked it open and made for the kitchen. As his vision adjusted to the waking world, he found Genji already slouched in the sofa with a granola bar in his mouth and a portable game in his hands; he turned as he heard the soft slip of Hanzo’s socks across the wood floors.

“Who’s falling behind on hygiene now, Hanzo?” Genji snorted through his breakfast, hopping to his feet already dressed for the day ahead. Hanzo grunted in a tired attempt at a sarcastic laugh, but his brother had always been the morning person. The omnic was in the kitchen, and as he rounded the island counter it placed a white mug of black coffee in front of him. He settled into a barstool and Genji bounced up into the one next to him. “It’s instant, there isn’t a lot of food. New Dad said it’ll get groceries while we’re touring the local school.”

“Mmf,” Hanzo groaned, resting his face in his arms on the counter. He considered taking a sip of the coffee, but he didn’t want to burn his tongue. Besides, he preferred tea, and New Dad would- wait. “What did you call it?” Hanzo sat up stock straight again as Genji burst into a fit of giggles.

“New Dad! Since we’ll probably never see father again,” his brother repeated, more solemn but the grin remained, brushing an anxious hand through his spring-green locks and fingering at where the dye was beginning to fade.

“Don’t...” Hanzo began, slumping into himself. “Don’t say that.” Genji didn’t reply that time, but snaked a hand across the counter to grab Hanzo’s mug. He took a long sip and sighed.

“We can talk about it some other time,” He sized up Hanzo’s wrinkled outfit. “C’mon.” Genji set the mug back down and dropped from the stool back onto his feet, tugging his brother towards their bedrooms.

Hanzo groaned in protest but allowed himself to be jerked along and shoved into his own room, followed by a pair of jeans and a fresh shirt Genji had picked before he had woke. His own door slammed behind him.

“Be careful!” He whined at the loud noise, which was followed by another bout of Genji’s airy laughter. Stripping his sweaty clothes and wishing he had more time to shower properly, he changed into the clothes his brother had provided. Despite Genji being a year younger, the jeans were a tad long on his ankles, even with their high waistband. The little green imp had managed to grow taller than Hanzo years earlier, and he had never caught back up. He brushed his fingers through his long hair hurriedly, gathering it into a smooth ponytail at his neck.

Quiety, Hanzo clicked his door back open to find his brother waiting for him on the other side, leaning up against the wall. He scrunched his heavy brows for a moment, then reached in to tuck Hanzo’s light blue top into the hem of his jeans.

“Even better than yesterday,” Genji grinned and tossed a light jacket across the hall for Hanzo to catch. If Genji found comfort in picking his clothes, Hanzo couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He remembered his father’s tight grip on his wrist as he was shoved into the car, begging for him to take good care of his little brother, keep him happy - the memory sent a jolt of ice down his spine and he shivered, slipping the jacket over his arms. The front door clicked open and snapped Hanzo back to the present.

“I’ll be right back,” he assured the omnic and Genji as he dipped back into his room for a moment, returning with a folded umbrella.

“Are you serious?” Genji quirked a brow. “We’re in the middle of the desert!”

“I read the forecast online,” Hanzo defended, looping it around his wrist. With what little control he seemed to have over his life at the moment, the very least he could do was be prepared for anything.

Their new school was a sunny few minute’s walk away from the apartment, which Hanzo was grateful for. He didn’t want kids asking questions about the new students’ fancy car and high-class omnic help. Attending a public school at all had been Hanzo’s idea in the first place - holing up and wasting away inside with homeschool lessons just wasn’t as pleasant anywhere but their true home at Shimada castle. Genji had vouched for it, as well, he had always had a fondness for cowboy stories as a child, what use was living in that very Southwest if he didn’t get to meet a few?

Genji’s wish was granted as soon as they stepped into a small office down the school’s main hall. Leaning back casually in a chair tucked into the modest desk was a boy capped with a classic Stetson and a burgeoning scruffy beard, rocking back with his leather boots propped up on the desk. He didn’t even glance back at the two as they clicked the door shut, but he dropped back to his feet as the other door in the room opened and in came a hulking blonde man. The man shot a warning look at the boy in the chair, who stared coolly back, flicking a lollipop stick between his teeth.

“Jesse, I’ve told you to keep your feet off of my desk,” the blonde was clad in a finely pressed formal shirt as blue as his eyes, and his tall form thumped down into the chair on the other side of the desk.

“Whoops,” the cowboy finally looked over to the two brothers, silent in a corner of the office. He winked up at Hanzo, folding one leg over the other.

Hanzo blinked in surprise, then scowled and averted his eyes. Boys were Genji’s frivolities, not his. Jesse shrugged and turned back to the principal, straightening the lapel of his dusty riding jacket. Genji shanked his elbow into Hanzo’s rib.

“Don’t be rude,” he snickered in Japanese, but Hanzo remained silent, rubbing the bruise gently.

“Your filthy boots are not what you are here to discuss, at any length,” the blonde man reminded Jesse. Hanzo spied a name placard on his desk and in the glinting sunlight from the window, he could just make out ‘Jack Morrison’. Jack cleared his throat as Jesse feigned insult, polishing his boots with his knuckles. “Luckily for you, I’ve got more urgent matters to attend to, and they are ten minutes early,” he gestured towards Hanzo and Genji.

“Thanks, guys,” Jesse lurched to his feet and gave a curt nod towards the brothers as he made to leave.

“Not so fast,” Jack stood again, and if he looked more than a little smug as Jesse stopped short and his shoulders sank, Hanzo ignored it. “You can wait here while I give these nice boys a tour of the school.”

Jess let out a long, puppy-like whine as he collapsed back into the wooden chair. Hanzo snickered behind a hand as the principal lead them out of his office.

“Can’t I join ya?” the delinquent cowboy offered hopefully, but the door slammed on his request.

After a monotonous history of the public school’s building and an overly detailed tour, the brothers were back on the streets, though they were no longer so sunny. Hanzo smiled smugly as he popped his little umbrella open in the rolling downpour. Genji reluctantly joined him beneath it and they set off.

Hanzo tuned into the sounds of the rain as Genji gushed about that cute boy in the office, how if he wasn’t going to go after him, someone else would have to, in reference to himself. The water thumped a bass sound into his umbrella, squelched in the dust below his sneakers and snaked down the surrounding buildings. He could hear the pleasant tap of his own feet, his brother’s, and another unidentified pair. With the streets mostly bare, it was easy to pick out a squat old man, hair white and hide like tanned leather, speckled with moles. His thin wisps of hair and beard dripped down him like white water as he stumbled through the road with a wooden cane. As though he felt Hanzo’s curious gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met for a moment before the man’s frail body came tumbling down to the ground, splashing in the puddles.

Genji gave a noncommittal hiss of sympathy, then a squeak of surprise when Hanzo changed direction without thinking, picking up the pace to a trot until he could kneel at the man’s side.

“Bless you,” he mumbled weakly as Hanzo offered a hand under the dry of his umbrella and lifted him back to his feet.

“It’s no trouble,” Hanzo assured. Once the man was standing again, Hanzo slipped the rubber grip of the umbrella into his fingers, wrinkled and knotted like tree roots. The man adjusted his rain-spotted glasses to look back up at Hanzo, then nodded and patted his arm in thanks. Genji whined from the other side of the sidewalk as Hanzo returned to his side, hiking his jacket up to cover his hair as they sprinted the short distance back to the lobby of the high rise.

“Awful good heart you have for the heir to a criminal empire,” Genji rolled his eyes and gave his back a light slap once they were safely out of the rain.

-- The next morning, Genji woke Hanzo, rather than the sun. A delicate poke to his cheek, followed by a sudden robbery of his blankets, had him on his feet in seconds.

Like it had promised, the omnic had purchased enough groceries to sustain the boys for a while, and a small breakfast was already prepared when Hanzo sleepily toddled to the kitchen, still in his pajamas. He had stayed up later than he would like to admit the night before, fretting over his father back home and to a lesser extent, their first day of school. A warm cup of tea promised momentary relief - it’s not quite the same as back home when it washes down his throat, but similar enough for a pang of homesickness to grip his neck. False advertising, but he kept drinking.

Despite the previous day’s downpour, the steps to the school were dry by the time Hanzo and Genji reached them. A few lingering students meandered up and down, but as he climbed, Hanzo’s eyes were drawn upwards. Lounging nonchalantly in front of a set of double-doors was the same boy they’d seen in the principal’s office, staring intently right back down at the sidewalk. Before Hanzo could be angry, he followed Jesse’s gaze to a loose trio of other students a few feet away. Jeers and shouts could be heard, and a soft plea for mercy after each aborted shove two gave towards the other.

Hanzo looked back up to Jesse. His brows were furrowed, teeth ground together as he sat still, face contrasting the laid-back position his body held up against the side of the school. Eyes followed every move of the little group, and the moment one of the outer ring laid his hands on the shortest boy, all the tension in his body erupted.

“Knock it off!” Jesse sprang to his feet, fists clenched as he ducked under the stair railing to reach the boys and push aside two of the bigger ones, dragging their victim out by his arm. The smaller one sighed in relief as Jesse blocked him off. As he came into view, Hanzo realized that he couldn’t have been much older than twelve, hugging the very same weighty textbooks that Hanzo held in his own bag to his chest.

Deep in the school building, an alarm buzzed. Genji reacted first, tugging at Hanzo’s jacket sleeve as he stood, mildly entranced as Jesse chewed out the bullies.

“Hanzo, please! We’ll be late!” his brother whined as Hanzo neglected to follow. At Genji’s words, Jesse glanced over his shoulder at them. Now that he had caught the vigilante’s gaze, Hanzo lowered his head and scurried towards the door with Genji at his side. Even from inside the building, he could still hear Jesse shouting expletives at the boys, daring them to pick on someone their own size. Though the cowboy was still a mite shorter than both of them, Hanzo had an inkling of thought that they would still be picking a losing fight. He chuckled internally as he neared the classroom the principal had shown him the day before - perhaps the ‘delinquent’ was more than what had met his eye.

The cowboy had saved him this time, but he might not be there the next day - he hadn’t been there the day before. Winston sighed heavily as Jesse herded the two upperclassmen inside the building, in relief or defeat even he couldn’t say. When he had been offered the chance to move into accelerated classes at the high school, skipping multiple grades at a time, he had leapt at the opportunity. His head had been filled with dreams of graduating early, moving on to working with the national space program like he’d wanted since he was old enough to talk. What he hadn’t considered were the social ramifications - he had no way to deal with boys twice his size picking on him besides hoping for the occasional mercy from a passerby or teacher. No matter how early he snuck in, they found him, pestering and pursuing him until retreating to avoid being late. Sometimes he wished he was their size, just for a day - he’d smack some respect into them, damn the consequences.

“Why stop with them? I can make you big enough to smack plenty of sense into anyone or anything you wish.”

Winston looked up in surprise, scanning the area. The late bells had already rung; he was alone outside, as far as he could see.

“Who said that?” he wondered suspiciously, giving the sky a good once-over as well.

“I am the Reaper, little boy, and you are now my beast,” the disembodied voice whispered, gravelly and low. Its tone indicated that this was fact - not up for discussion.

“I’m not so sure I-,” Winston’s voice was cut off by a tightness in his throat, he gagged and collapsed to his knees, chest throbbing as his vision went dark.

Hanzo was absentmindedly playing with a lock of his own hair, faintly listening to the teacher outline a concept he had learned years earlier in his homeschooling, when the classroom went dark. A girl screamed from the back corner, and a few boys laugh until the announcement system crackled to life.

“This is not a drill. Commence lockdown procedures! An unidentified creature is outside the building!” he recognized the panicked voice of the burly blonde principal, even through the low quality audio relay. The students fell silent and the teacher rushed to the windows to draw the blinds. She’s not quite fast enough, and before the crackly plastic draws over the final pane, a horrifying face peered inside.

It’s hard to see through the glare in its fishbowl helmet, but it appeared to be a mass of living tar, speckled with festering stars and galaxies. They squirmed and swirled in its gaping maw as it gave a mighty roar that shook the very building. This time, there were significantly more screams. The same liquid made up its entire form, from dagger-like teeth dripping with celestial drool to its writhing tongue, making for a display as disgusting as it was terror-inducing. Hanzo stood quietly from his seat while the rest of the class was distracted with the beast and slipped out the door as he felt his stomach churn and his breakfast bubble in his throat. Some realistic nightmare, this was. He made swiftly for the bathrooms across the hall; even in a dream he would prefer to avoid vomiting on the classroom floor.

After a thorough rinse of his mouth with the lukewarm water from the sink tap, Hanzo reached inside his bag for the cheap cell phone the omnic had given him the night before, intending to check up on dream-Genji. Before the smooth plastic of the phone, though, his fingertips brushed a fine wooden box.

“Odd,” he murmured, sliding it out into the dim lighting from a frosted window on the wall. Octagonal in shape, black with red and gold accents painted a distinctly eastern design - not the type of thing he would expect to find in the deserts of North America, certainly. When he pops the lid open, he’s greeted with a puff of dust and stale-smelling air, which he blows away with a breath of his own air. Inside rests a golden silk ribbon, folded pristinely. Its fishscale pattern glints in the low light, and Hanzo reaches down to run a forefinger along it. The moment his skin brushes the ancient silk, blue smoke erupts from somewhere within it. Startled, Hanzo tosses the box up, and it lands in the sink.

“Careful with that!” an offended voice scolds, and Hanzo squeaks in surprise, whipping around to look for the speaker. He comes eye-to-eye with a miniature blue dragon floating in mid-air, long and lean with a beard and horns. Its tiny claws scrabble at the air as it bounds on top of his shoulder and launches off it, landing in the sink next to the box.

“S-sorry,” Hanzo lifts the box gently in two hands. “This is becoming an awfully strange dream...”

“This is no dream, my Dragonfly,” the little beast floats from the sink and brings its miniscule fangs down into the flesh of his thumb.

“Ow! That-” Hanzo’s eyes widen. “Hurt?”

“Do you believe me?” the dragon blinks its eyes tiredly as Hanzo nods his head vigorously, breathing beginning to hitch.

“That thing outside is real?”

“Of course,” It coolly drifts to sit atop the ribbon. “I am Toyoll, a Kwami. If you so wish, I will grant you the power to stop the it.” The dragon’s voice is more serious as it makes its offer.

“Excuse me? Stop it?” he nearly chokes on his own spit. “I could hardly look at it!”

“Quite unfortunate,” Toyoll yawned.

“Can’t you ask-” but the Kwami cut him off.

“No, no. No one else,” it waved its paw at him, scoffing. “You have been chosen. Either you accept these powers, or the monster will run free and destroy this city.”

“Those aren’t very fair choices...” he murmurs, and the dragon flits up to sit on his shoulder.

“Hurry and decide, boy, that thing is wreaking havoc as we speak!” Toyoll stopped still for a moment, then clawed at a loose strand of hair. “Once you put the ribbon on, there’s no turning back, but gold is definitely a good color for you,” it smirked.

“As if I didn’t know that...” Hanzo tried his best to laugh back, but his fingers shake over the soft surface of the magic ribbon. He was duty-bound to keep his brother safe while their father fixed the clan’s affairs - if that meant protecting him and the rest of the town from a horrifying slime monster, then so be it.

“Just say, ‘transform me’.”

He reached up to tie the ribbon into his ponytail, thin fabric almost buzzing between his fingers.

“T-transform me?” he stuttered, squeezing his eyes shut. As the knot in the ribbon tightens, Toyoll disappears, and he feels a cool, cleansing wave wash over his body.

“Jesse, stay here while I check the hallway for stragglers, okay?” Jack’s voice is panicked as he dug through his desk drawers for a flashlight. Jesse nodded, speechless, as he stares at the creature’s body through the window. Its feet were the size of cars, leaving dents in the grassy field out back. It had materialized out of seemingly thin air just a few minutes after the principal had busted him for cursing and yelling at those bullies - sometimes it felt like Jack had a vendetta against him.

“Let me out! Hey!” a muffled voice from the ground caught his attention as the door slammed shut.

“Who...” he furrowed his brows as he peeked over the desk and found nobody.

“In your bag, dumbass!”

“Rude,” Jesse grimaced and popped his messenger bag open. A blur of orange-brown fur came hurling out, flinging itself onto the brim of his hat.

“The box, the box!” it urged, and Jesse spied an unfamiliar box among his books.

“What’s with the rush?” he wondered as he lifted it to eye level, peering along the red and gold designs.

“We’re late!” the fur peeked down over his hat, and Jesse could finally see a long snout and whiskers. It looked a bit like a scruffy dog, if dogs were the size of fat caterpillars. “Can’t leave your partner waiting!”

“Pardner?” Jesse clicked the box open.

“Part. Ner,” the dog repeated, deadpan, clearly unamused with his drawl. Inside the box lay a garishly large vanity belt buckle, bearing the acronym BAMF.

“God, that’s awful,” Jesse chuckled, lifting it and dropping the box to the desk unceremoniously to give it a better look over. “This for me?”

“Not so fast! If you put on that buckle, you are accepting the duty of protecting this city from monsters!” the pup tumbled from the brim of his hat down to his shoulder. “I am Wenndi, and I can give you magical powers if you choose to-”

“Hell yeah!” Jesse’s eyes widened.

“Oh. You... Really?” Wenndi seemed confused, blinking. “It’s a full time job, you know. No going back.”

“I get it, I know,” Jesse waved the words off. “I’m down! Let’s go! Can’t keep that partner you mentioned waitin’.”

“Right, right,” Wenndi sighed. “Well, then, Coyote. Just say ‘transform me’,” the cowboy nodded as he finished fastening the buckle to his belt.

“Transform me?” the tiny dog vanished, and an invigorating fire rushed down his limbs.

“Hey!” A loud bark from the ground caught Dragonfly’s attention as he watched the monster turn its attention away from the school and towards the rest of the city, ignoring him completely. From a wider perspective, it’s easy to see that the soupy monster is contained in a white space suit. A figure leapt up on the roof of the school, stumbling up next to him. “Damn, that’s gonna take some gettin’ used to,” He chuckled. “So, I figured you’re probably my partner, right?” He offered a hand.

“Partner?” Dragonfly’s eyes lit up. “I don’t have to defeat it alone?” He tentatively placed his right hand, decked in a fingerless glove, into the man’s own leather-clad fingers.

“‘Course not! Coyote, at your service. And, you are?” he gave a slight tip of his Stetson with a grin, an excited glint in his masked eyes as he sized up his new partner. Blue horns sprouted from his head, along with the tail of a serpentine predator at his hips. A tight black braid fell down his back, fanned by a delicate golden scarf, and an intricate swirl of scaley ink peeked from his bare shoulder. “Well, damn lovely, for one thing,” Coyote gave a soft whistle, and the skin below the soft dusting of blue and gold scales on Dragonfly’s cheeks glowed pink. He pursed his lips and withdrew his hand, swiveling back towards the lumbering beast tearing up the road into downtown.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” Coyote pouted. Dragonfly was silent as he brought the delicate bow on his back forward, and Coyote mirrored with the silver revolver at his hip.

“I am not here to flirt with you,” Dragonfly mumbled, pulling back his empty bowstring and taking aim at the monster’s massive back, and an arrow forms from thin air as he releases. The magic weapon is similar enough in weight and give to his bow back in Hanamura, one that he loved to spend long hours practicing with when he had finished his studies for the day. A fondness for this new weapon crept into his skin and he grips it a little tighter.

“Don’t mean I can’t,” Coyote gave the gun a spin, testing its weight.

“Watch out!” Dragonfly grabbed onto the royal blue bandana around Coyote’s neck as the great, slow beast very suddenly crashed its fat hand into the roof of the school and leapt into the air to avoid it. The two landed on the demolished road.

“Phew! You done this before, darlin’?”

“No!” Dragonfly barked, exasperated, and jumped up onto the building across the street, scaling the face of it. The creature took another swing, stomping its foot into where Coyote had stood moments before for leverage. Just before the fist hits, Dragonfly hopped to the roof of the building, letting the monster slam its knuckles into the concrete and windows. The massive white glove is trapped for a moment, and Dragonfly prayed silently for it to stick. To no avail, though, as it is ripped right back out, no worse for the wear. In comes the glove again, smacking flat against the roof Dragonfly stands atop. He dodged with another leap, but his timing was off and he landed on the back of its hand. Coyote made his way back to the roof of the school, skipping over the widening hole above the middle of the hallway. He took careful aim with his revolver, this time at the fishbowl helmet rather than the larger target of the monster’s back as Dragonfly sprinted across its arm. Luckily, it’s too sluggish to shake the hero before he reached the relative safety of the beast’s shoulder.

A spidery crack in the glass echoes loudly as Coyote took his first shot, hitting the helmet dead center, and the slime gives a great bellow, loud enough to shake Dragonfly’s balance momentarily. It swung for him again, but he dashes to its other shoulder, letting the fist smash into the fishbowl. Dragonfly’s eyes widened as he saw the solution in the webby pattern of breaks in the helmet.

“Coyote! Weaken the glass!” he shouted into his hand, and Coyote nodded vigorously, seeing the plan as well. He popped another four shots into the helmet, spreading the cracks all around the front. Inevitably, it goes in for another swing, and Dragonfly dodged yet again, pulling a second weapon off of his back: a long golden sword. He stabs it into the already-softened glass, weakening it further. Knuckles hit the middle of the five gunshots and slashes, and finally smash through the bowl entirely. Again, the creature roared, but this time its huge body crashed into the road, motionless save for the slime oozing its way out of the helmet.

As the space suit fell, Dragonfly lost his balance on its shoulder. Coyote jumped to his rescue, sliding out underneath his falling body just in time to catch him in his arms.

“I’m not all that useless, am I?” he grinned and set the blushing dragon back on his feet as he sheathed the sword and draws back the string of his bow again. Words bubbled to his lips as the awful sticky beast makes to jump upon and eat them, drooling more stars than are visible in the city sky.

“Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!”

The arrow formed by the shout was engulfed in a magnificent blue flame, and from it burst forth two mystical dragons much like the Kwami he had met earlier. They rushed at the slime and dove down its throat, ripping it to shreds like it was paper rather than a gelatinous beast. It melted away with a faint shriek, and to the heroes’ surprise, a young boy remained unconscious on the ground where it had vanished.

Dragonfly dashed forwards and lifted the child’s head into his lap - he could feel weak breath on his wrist. The boy had simply fallen asleep from the exertion.

When he looked up from the crumpled body, he’s amazed to find that his dragons had not only freed the boy, but repaired the extensive damage he had done; the school roof, high rise windows, even the dents in the school field were as good as new.

“Mighty useful trick that is, doll,” Coyote whistled, sauntering up behind Dragonfly and the boy as the dragons came to rest by his sides, fading into a soft blue mist. He could almost hear the man scowl as he comes closer.

“I am not your ‘doll’,” the dragon rose to his feet and thrust the child at Coyote. “Return this boy to his parents.

Coyote nodded, grabbing the kid under his armpits and hiking him up on his hip. Dragonfly turns away, making to leave.

“Hey, wait!” Coyote whined. “You gotta tell me your name, at least, partner!” The raven-haired serpent sighed in defeat.

“You may call me Dragonfly,” he said with a tiny smile, then takes a running leap and scaled the face of one of the newly-repaired buildings.

#text #fanfic #fanfiction #mchanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #young hanzo #young mccree #deadlock mccree #miraculous ladybug #overwatch #my writing #miraculous au

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