#yeah just filling the tags w nonsense

[miamierre]

hi i cleaned up that little bit of my crypto disaster au <3 ty hawkers. ty pear.

tw: drug mentions

It’s not like Charles hasn’t worn a suit before.

Shit, he’d been in one the other weekend for his brother’s engagement party—all loud laughter and smiles, a big celebration of the youngest of his family getting married to the girl of his dreams the way everyone always knew he would. It had been a fun evening. Charles was comfortable, happy the whole time. He does know how to wear clothes to a party, after all, even if he does have a cohort of sleazy regulars who would probably say the opposite.

But standing here in the lobby of White Oaks Rehab, waiting on his appointment to be confirmed by the very nice lady at the front desk, he just can’t stop fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt—like he’s at his first school dance and not a respectable adult. It’d started as a quick adjustment to his cufflinks when he’d first arrived and told the receptionist that he was a coworker of Pierre’s, but the burn of fraudulence had caught up with him quickly. There are a few other people in the waiting area with him, focused entirely on their phones or with their heads buried in the magazines left out, but Charles feels like they’re all staring at him as if they know.

Which—they can’t know, can they? That he’s not a business man, that he doesn’t work in finance, that these cufflinks are ones he’d snagged from the Lost and Found back at home base from a client who’d left them behind ages ago. He hadn’t even said anything to the receptionist to try and prove his fake identity. Yet the white walls, plain as they are, feel almost suffocating as he sits in one of the corner chairs and fiddles with his stupid shirt. (He’s glad he decided to leave the blazer where it was—it doesn’t even feel like the air conditioner is on right now, and he desperately hopes he put on enough deodorant before to avoid looking like a nervous kid swallowed up in his first suit.

“Mr. Leclerc?” The woman at the front desk calls across the room. Charles practically jumps to attention, all the nerves of this brash trip he’d successfully tamped down before now surging back. She must be able to tell—with a friendly smile, she gestures for him to approach the desk, a clipboard nestled in her free arm. “Mr. Gasly will see you now. If you’ll just sign this waiver form right here, I can take you right to him.”

He doesn’t even read what he’s signing off on before he goes for it. All he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears at the thought of this—of seeing Pierre again after weeks of being apart and thinking that this, whatever has been happening between them, had ended before Charles even knew it had begun. It’s exciting.

It’s absolutely terrifying.

The woman nods at him, smile still measured and calm like she can read all of Charles’ anxieties clear on his face, and then sets the clipboard back on the counter. “Am I going to meet him in a room?” The question bubbles out of him before he has a chance to think it through.

She laughs, soft. “Mr. Leclerc, this isn’t prison. I’ll be taking you to his room, and from there, the two of you have free reign of our entire rehabilitation campus.” From the way her expression seems to soften with understanding, it’s clear that she can tell he’s starting to get antsy about visiting. “Don’t worry. It’s much scarier for you right now than it is for your friend. Come with me, I’ll take you right to him.” And, with a quick nod of her head, they’re off—her in her remarkably tall heels clicking across the tiled floor, him trying his damnedest not to trip over his own two feet in these clunky dress shoes.

The nerves from before seem to double in size with every step they take. This was a stupid idea, he thinks frantically as they turn a corner. Impulsive, thoughtless, stupid stupid stupid. He’s only been hooking up with Pierre at parties that his company literally hires him for. He’d quite literally been paid to spend the night in Pierre’s lap, pressed in his side, encouraging him to indulge and indulge until he couldn’t indulge anymore. It benefitted him to be there, to do this, to be Pierre’s playboy bunny or whatever.

And, sure—Charles likes him. A lot. The number of fantasies he’s had lately that end with Pierre liking him back are too embarrassing to count. But Charles is also self-aware enough to know he’s an attractive guy, and that he’s very good at his job. The version of himself that Pierre has known all these months is one who’s always drenched in glitter and only wears shirts that match the colors of his thongs. In so many ways, Pierre only knows Charles in the dark.

There’s no dark here whatsoever. Quite literally, too, considering the enormous skylights built into the ceiling that are spilling sunlight onto the olive-colored carpet without remorse. Charles doesn’t have the fallback of his job to lean on if this goes south. He doesn’t have the dark, or the clothes, or the music or anything—it’s only him, and this definitely insane decision to visit his kind-of client at rehab. Rehab. He shouldn’t have done this, he shouldn’t have gone this far—

“Right here, Mr. Leclerc.” The woman stops at door 1016 and knocks, once. Then, leaning towards it more: “Your guest has arrived, Mr. Gasly.”

“Fantastic,” Pierre’s muffled voice comes from behind the door, and oh this is suddenly very real. Charles can’t imagine the amount of sweat that must be pouring off him right now. He glances at the receptionist, practically pleading for her to take him back, but she just nods once and turns back the way they came, somehow managing to glide away fast enough to leave Charles entirely by himself when Pierre opens the door.

He looks…good. Not that he ever didn’t, really, but it’s been a little over a month since Charles had actually seen him last, and it definitely hadn’t been this clearly. He looks like he’s put on weight—muscle, sure, but just plain weight, too, enough of it for Charles to realize, correctively, that he must’ve really been wasting away at those parties night after night with all the booze and the substances he’d been indulging in. Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

“Pierre,” he starts, but then loses the nerve to continue. I wanted to check in on you sounds too much like he’s family. I missed you feels clingy. You look good seems—well, it seems appropriate—

“You clean up nicely, Charlie,” Pierre murmurs appreciatively, eyeing him up and down once before opening the door to his apartment space a little wider. “Come in, come in.” His hand comes to rest on Charles’ shoulder, big and warm the way it always is, and the feel of it burns right through his dress shirt. Fuck.

“Thank you,” he manages as he allows Pierre to guide him inside. The room is—sparse. It’s not exactly luxury apartment living, nor is it anything like the hazy memory Charles has of the one night Pierre had actually brought him home to his place. But the light is bright, and things are clean, and Pierre’s smile is still vibrant as ever even in this context, so he probably shouldn’t be comparing too heavily. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” That crooked smile twitches across his face, contagious as ever. “I was worried you would not like what you saw in daylight, you know.” He turns around before Charles can protest more aggressively that, no, there’s no way that could happen because he’s pretty sure he’s on the precipice of falling in love. (Not that he’d say that out loud, but—but—) “Water?”

“I—I’m good,” Charles says. Pierre hums in acknowledgment, then grabs the glass sitting on his countertop and walks towards the refrigerator, where he pours a glass for himself. When he saunters back over, he settles down on a dining room chair and gestures for Charles to join him. Wordlessly, he does. Then: “You shouldn’t.”

It comes out of his mouth on its own volition, sounding more like a blurted confession than an actual, normal statement. Pierre raises a confused eyebrow at him. Charles feels the blush starting to crawl up his neck at a steadier pace. “Worry, I mean. About me not liking what I—you know. I do.” A glass of water seems like a nice option right now. Stupid. “I—daylight doesn’t, um, change much for me.” It’s about as collected as he knows how to be right now.

Pierre, who had been sipping on his drink, sets it down onto the table before him. “Really?” He sounds…different, like this. Maybe it’s the wide-open space. Maybe it’s the absence of something bass-heavy thudding through the floorboards. There’s something in his voice, now, that Charles can hear is—human. Nervous, or maybe self-conscious? Neither of those things apply to the Pierre he’s spent so much time with.

But this Pierre is different than that one, Charles knows. Even from here, this one is healthier. This one is figuring his shit out. “Yeah,” he manages in reply, choking a little on his too-heavy tongue. “Yeah, no, you—daylight suits you, mon petit.”

Pierre laughs in reply. Bright, sharp, a little absurd considering Charles hadn’t even been aiming for funny, but—it’s a nice sound, when he hears it unobstructed. A sound he could get used to again, but for real this time. “I did not think you could get more beautiful, Charlo,” he murmurs, loud grinning now having softened into a quieter smile, “but I was wrong.”

#still not tagging just bc i dont wanna fill said tag w my nonsense but. yeah. #hawkers really said ''phoebe you are going to write this fic or we will kill you.'' and you know what #10 x 16 #fic #au tag #I PROMISE IM NOT GONNA DELETE IT THIS TIME #crypto au

[minheeskitten]

"2k is long" is also nonsense i'm so sorry 😭 2k is barely anything if you're trying to introduce an AU and actually flesh in a setting and especially if you're trying to show different personality traits 😭 your fic are mostly AUs with really well thought out lore, and it needs the word count to breathe and establish everything. if someone's attention span is too short to read more than - what - 2 pages? that's their problem, not yours! fwiw, my fic lengths range with the shortest starting at around 5k and the longest getting close to 30k and i have never had anyone leave a complaint about the length! people are more than willing to sit through 10k+ just to get to the smutty stuff, and they usually end up enjoying the rest of the fic as well. do not worry about it! you're doing just fine 🩷

I don't often look at the length of a fic unless im updating someone on how long its getting. My shortest wip is 100 words. And. Ive posted it to here bcs i feel it'll never be finished.

If it does get finished eventually then i will post it as a fic but. Until then it sits in my drafts.

My fics almost always include worldbuilding to at least 3k now. Though not all of them were like that.

Do you want in on a secret? I don't think out the world for my aus. It fleshes itself out. I think on what may happen n go from there. The story writes itself. I am just a vessel for the words and visions.

I am absolutely terrible at worldbuilding if im doing it consciously.

Its why i have visible headcanons for idols. But i just can't put them into words haha.

The most i think through is 'what sort of details would enhance this and make it better to read'

And then thats where i go from!

Siren!ivan was originally supposed to be more non-con than it is rn. The consent is not proper consent tho but thats bcs. Well. Siren wants what he wants and he will convince dann to give it to him.

Though. Thats a little bit of a spoiler. It is going to be tagged accordingly. Don't worry ill tag fics right.

The fic i thought through the most, probably is one ive not even started wtiting. The dissection fic. I gotta do all sorts of research so i can make sure its accurate and well done.

Which unfortunately means i gotta look at anatomy from a more medical standpoint. Need to go find a book for that..

The first fic i put out actually has a very strong plot hole. That i told myself id patch before posting it but. I didn't.

That plot hole was the reasoning as to why ivan was doing that to hwon. It has a very weak reason and i could absolutely fix it now. But. Not this year.

I write ab 5k minimum most of the time haha. I prefer letting the story fill itself out n then helping fine tune details. Its why i really can't tell you how long a fic may be.

So far my longest fic is 16k words. Published. Theres more unpublished. That's for the abandoned but not orphaned one.

I may return to it eventually. That's why i didn't wanna orphan it.

All of my fics stop at a point they organically would have stopped at. When i feel it can't really take another scene. I end it. That usually leaves spaces for part twos to them as well!

But i like exploring aus as i write them.

Fun fact! I write aus bcs im worried that if i do anything else i may accidentally copy someone else's idea.

I do get inspired by the other kd writers. Oh gods do i get inspired.

Lee, lunar, eve, even erin, who encourages the hwonicide. They all inspire me in their own ways. Does that usually come in the form of a prompt to note down asap? Yeah.

But other ways are helping with details for fics. And they are all very welcome to chat ab fics w me. I don't steal ideas. Not without permission and changing it to be my own.

I have a prompt that is inspired by eve's fic Clear My Mind (eve is karmacumover btw!)

But it is different. I may show her the prompt itself if she wants to see it haha.

But i love working on fics. Even if I can't be proud of them as a 'look i made this!' i can still look at the work and go 'yeah. Thats good.'

Thank you lee for helping me figure out how to do that. It was amazing to be able to step back and go 'thats a good story' if i removed myself from it.

The lee im referring to here is intenselysalmon. So she knows who im referring to.

One day. One day my goal is to be proud of how much I've written. Of what I've written.

Its a goal i think is far away. But the more i talk to other writers. The more i realize.

Im not as bad at writing as i think i am.

Honestly id never even considered myself a good writer, until i asked writers like lee and erin their feedback on my works. And they both said i write well. Maybe a little dialogue heavy but. Thats fine i can work on it.

Im doing my best. And im trying to ensure i continue getting better.

The more i talk to other writers and see how they talk ab my writing. The more i go. 'maybe im too harsh on myself' but. As they say, you are your own worst critic.

Honestly i never even considered my work good enough to do much with. But. Lunar still offered to possibly do a collab or fic trade. And i keep thinking on it. Maybe.

It makes me think they find me a better writer than i find myself to be.

Then i see eve, reacting to some of the xlips of airen!ivan ive put out. And she's reacting as i would for any of lee's clips. I find lee an amazing writer. It seems eve thinks of me that way too.

Im trying to wrap my head around it. But the reason i am so harsh on myself is. Anxiety and self doubt. And i need to work through them.

Thats the first time ive admitted that.

I will work through my weaknesses, and be better than before. Slowly. It takes time. I have to be patient.

One day. One day i will be able to proudly say 'im a good writer'

Its not today. But. It will be an eventuality.

Moots mentioned in this post:

Lee (@intenselysalmon )

Erin (@kurenaiwataru )

Eve (@karmacumover )

Lunar (@kingdoms-babygirl )

#asks <3 #anons <3 #🩷 anon #long post

[comfortwriting]

Best friends Brother - G.W

Part 1 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2

George Weasley x Fem Reader 

About: The Reader is falling for her best mates older brother, she confines in Ron who is already afraid of losing his best friend to the brothers he’s so pressured to be like.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of food and eating, but of angst, George punching a creep.

Walking away from Hagrid’s hut towards the castle, thoughts about the more quiet Weasley twin filled your hazy head - you were planning on shooting your shot, but first you needed some advice and the only person who could do that right now is your best friend Ron - currently chewing your ear off about Hermione and the house elves. 

“She doesn’t know when to stop does she? All the S.P.E.W nonsense, if she brings it up one more time-”

“Hey, do you think George likes anyone?” you asked as cool as possible, trying to contain your nervousness and excitement. 

Although you and George had only spoken few words to one another, he was all you could think about, all you ever thought about, day in day out. You would share sweet glances and looks across the common room in the evening, the beautiful amber glare coming from the flames projecting onto George’s face, making him look like an angel. 

As much as you liked him, you were terrified that he wouldn’t feel the same, that he only saw you as his little brothers best friend - you hated it. 

Ron slowed down from his brisk walk and he continued to stare at the ground “George? As in.. my brother?” 

“yeah” you smiled shyly, swallowing hard. 

Ron could feel his heart flutter, the idea of another person - his best friend - favouring one of his legendary twin brothers over him made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t lose anyone else, he wouldn’t let it.

He pondered his thoughts, perhaps you were asking for someone else, someone Ron didn’t care about - the desperation in his stomach kept churning to find out. 

“I don’t know” he replied in a huff “we don’t really talk much, why you asking anyway?” 

You went quiet, suddenly finding interest in the scenery as the two of you edged closer to the castle. 

“uh, no reason” you lied, running your hand through your hair. 

For all of Ron’s flaws, he could tell when his best friend was lying - he never failed calling you out for it in the past, you learnt not to play any card games with him - especially when galleons were on the table. 

The two of you entered the loud castle, pushing past students in the hall, making your way to the Gryffindor common room.

“you like him, don’t you?” Ron muttered under his breath, making sure everyone else around you couldn’t hear.

You sighed and made eye contact with Ron, his facial expression even more sour than when he puked up slugs in first year. 

You walked up the stairs and held on to the rail, looking around for the Fat Lady “I suppose I do, I was thinking of asking him to-”

Ron could feel the sweat form in his palms and under his arms, images of you and George being together all the time instead of him flashed before him.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you’re two years younger than him, you haven’t spoken more than ten words to each other.” 

Your heart pained for a moment, your spirits crushing like the ingredients in one of Snape’s potions.

“I just don’t think he’ll like you that much, I don’t want you to get hurt.” he finished, the two of you finally reaching the portrait. 

“I guess so” you mumbled “you know him better than I do.”

Over the next few days you couldn’t stomach being around George, each time you looked into his gorgeous eyes and seeing him smile, caused your heart pain, a lump forming in your throat, and hot tears filling your eyes. 

At first George didn’t notice but when he would wave and smile - only to be ignored, he couldn’t help but overthink; wondering if he had done something wrong. 

It wasn’t just George who you ignored, you kept away from your best friend Ron too - Ron felt like shit but you were away from George and that gave him enough of a clear conscience to sleep at night. 

You couldn’t sleep, you missed your best friend even when he hurt your feelings, you also felt hopeless, the only person you ever showed an interest in wouldn’t even give you a chance.  

“What’s been up with Y/N lately? George asked his younger brother, buttering his toast, causing Ron to almost choke on his. 

“What you on about?” 

George rolled his eyes and swallowed his food, “unbelievable you are, she’s been avoiding you like the plague and she won’t even look at me.”  

“So, did you make up your mind yet?” 

You swore silently under your breath, recognising the voice who called out to you - an attractive and charming Hufflepuff student in George’s year with short black hair kept asking you over and over to go on a date with him in Hogsmeade, each time you said no had failed to satisfy his desire. 

“Uh” you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him to fuck off, but then again, what did you have to lose? “yeah, I’ll be there” you faked a smile. 

Ron watched in the distance and felt relieved, from his perspective, the possibility of you and George seemed incredibly slim to none. He walked over towards you as soon as the lad split, a smile creeping up on his face. 

“Y/N, alright?” he smiled, his hands in his pockets. 

You stared at him, yes you were hurt, but you missed him - he could do much worse to cause a much bigger fall out between the two of you. 

“I suppose” you sighed “walk with me to Transfiguration class?” 

Ron smiled “can do”

“and took your bloody shirt in!” you scolded him, bumping into him playfully. 

As much as you enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade, you couldn’t help but want to go back home and climb back into your warm bed, hiding away from the world - but your habit of trying to see the best in people lead you here - waiting outside Honey Dukes for your date to arrive. 

“Look at you!” he called out, walking over and kissing your hand “ready for the best day of your life?” he grinned.

Best day of my life? with you? I should’ve stayed in bed.

“Sure” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

The best day of your life wasn’t too bad, you had someone new to talk to, to try and get your mind off things - but your heart couldn’t help but yearn for George. You looked around the shops thinking of the products he liked, disliked, and what he bought for Ron at Christmas. 

Your date had more to blab about himself than get to know you, he held your hand and bought you a much needed Butterbeer - but he talked so much that he didn’t even get round to drinking his own. The more he had to say, the more he tried to impress you, the more you disliked him, making you fall for George even more. 

Finally breaking out from the busy and overwhelming pub and out into the cold, your date stood in front of you with a strange expression on his face. 

“So?” he shrugged

“so, what?” you stared at him, your patience wearing thin. 

The shared laughter between George and Ron came to a halt when George spotted you with his classmate, he knitted his brows together. 

“Why’s Y/N around that plonker?” he asked his younger brother. 

Ron looked at you then back to George “she’s on a date”

George shook his head “he’s an absolute creep” 

The two of them stared, the student took a hold of your hand and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pulled away and glared at him, trying to not make a scene. 

“Fucking pervert!” George hissed, storming over towards the two of you “Hey!”

George clenched his jaw, his nostrils flared and his glaring gaze settled on on the lad, he bunched his right hand into a fist and swung, everything went in slow motion as George punched him in the face. 

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare and watch the fight unfold. 

“Stay away from her or my foot will rip you a new one!” George threatened him, he turned to you, his facial expression instantly turning soft.

“th-thank you” 

“you don’t need to thank me love, are you alright?” George searching your eyes with his, full of care and concern. 

Your heart fluttered, his voice, him speaking to you sounded like the most fascinating birds chirping, and his caring face caused fireworks in your stomach to erupt into the sky. 

You wanted to take your chance, ask him out and start over but before you could do any of that, let alone reply, Ron hurried over and interrupted; putting you back in your place and making you remember how his brother felt about you. 

“Proper shiner he’ll have in the morning” Ron laughed “sort your knuckles out George, if anyone sees they’ll send a letter home.” 

The fluttering in your heart died down, the chirping of the birds instantly turning into the most dreadful squawks, and the fireworks in your stomach burning out, starving the embers before they could relight.  

“Thanks again” you murmured quietly, flashing George one last smile before walking away, wanting to retreat to your bed and hide away. 

George had to admit, he felt quite hurt that you went back to ignoring him after he had your back the other week - he knew that you didn’t owe him anything, not even an explanation - but he couldn’t understand why even after making up with Ron, you still refused to look at him.

Sitting on the sofa in the common room in your pyjamas, you flicked through your Quidditch magazine and blinked over and over whilst you looked across the page, sleep trying to pull you in. 

“Georgie, I’ve already said-” 

“Shhh!”

Jolting awake, you looked behind you and stared at the twins, long roles of parchment in one hand and a map in the other, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, closing your magazine. 

“It’s okay boys, I’m going to bed anyway.” you yawned again, slowly getting off the sofa. 

Fred and George shared a look, the older twin nodding his head towards you “go on then, mate, I’ll be upstairs.”

Fred walked past you, he whispered a “goodnight!” and went off to his dorm, leaving you alone with the person you wanted more than anyone in the world. 

George pursed his lips, standing around awkwardly before approaching you “Y/N, can we talk?” he asked softly. 

You nodded slowly, the nerves piping up in your tummy. 

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, love” he said softly “have I done something wrong?” 

This was your moment, not to ask him out - but to tell him the truth. 

You pushed your stray hairs out of your face and sighed, the lad of your dreams standing beside you, looking down on you. 

“I have feelings for you George” you admitted, your mouth going dry “and that’s why I have to stay away from you, because I know you’re never going to feel the same.” 

George went quiet, the embers from the fire spreading and making it set alight, the amber tones coming from the flames resting on his face. He smiled for a moment and licked his lips, looking into your eyes.

“Tomorrow night” he whispered softly in your ear “where we first met”

Tag list: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl  

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #fred weasley #ron weasley #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley oneshot #ron weasley fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #imagines #oneshot #fanfic #Weasley #weasley twins #slowburn #mini series

[bukojuiice]

something in the rain   — todoroki shoto

ೃ you and shoto were once childhood best friends and sweethearts who had lost touch and communication. 12 years has passed since then, and on a fated summer day in june, there was something in the rain that brought two lost souls back to each other’s arms.

ೃ  pairing: shoto todoroki x fem! reader

ೃ  tags: childhood friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff

ೃ  warnings: none! 

ೃ wc: 1k

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

ೃ song inspo: film out by bts

Puppy Love…

What a sweet and trivial concept.

Was it not?

You and Shoto met each other at the tender age of 7. Roughly two years into his intense and odious training brought upon him by his father. His mother who still unwaveringly continued to support him, would sneak the half and half boy out in between his trainings. Whether to bring him out to play in the local playground, run around in the flower fields, or to just go shopping in the local grocer. These simple things were enough to make the boy happy. Even for just a short moment.

Then, during one fated day, the sun was about to go down, and no other child was frolicking around the playground.

It was just you.

Alone on the swing, your eyes cast down on the ground, wriggling your feet and dipping them into the play sand. You hear a faint creaking sound of the seat next to you and now you were accompanied by a boy the same age as you were. Heterochromatic eyes filled with innocence and love, a smile that looked like it never left the curves of his face, floofy half red and white hair that gave him a very distinct yet striking appearance.

“Why are you all alone?” He inquires, tilting his head. “It’s almost night time too. It’s going to get scary…”

“You came here alone too.” You snapped back, averting his gaze and your mouth forming into a pout.

He shakes his head, “No I didn’t. My Mommy is just there.” He points to a faint silhouette of a woman not far from the two of you.

“Oh.” You blink. “Well, um- my house is just over there! So, my parents don’t need to always keep an eye on me!” You cross your arms, pointing to your house a few feet away from the playground.

“You’re lucky. My dad keeps an eye on me a lot. He’s scary most of the time too and I think it’s because of my quirk…” His shoulders visibly slump as he breathes out a hefty sigh. “Mommy takes me out to go play when I’m done with my training and I’m happy because of it!”

“D-do you wanna play on the slide?” You ask him, twiddling with your fingers. A faint shade of pink present on your cheeks. “If it’s okay, I wanna share my happiness with you!“

His eyes sparkle. “Sure! But…. wait! I don’t even know your name yet!”

“Ah my name’s (Y/N)!”

“I’m Shoto!” He grins, his eyes sparkling once more and you can’t help but become flustered even more.

 Oh, how you wish to see those bright blue and grey eyes again. His fluffy white and crimson hair, and just… feel his lingering presence in your life once more.

Why did time have to go by so fast?

Why did he have to leave?

After a year of feeling nothing but the purest and most blissful emotions whenever you were with him, that all came crashing down when Shoto and his family moved to another city. The reason why was because the neighborhood that you lived in wasn’t “healthy” for him or rather, it was too friendly and Shoto was getting attached to you even though he shouldn’t.

Heroes are built to be as strong as steel after all. Emotionally and Physically. Endeavor doesn’t want his son to be a soft little marshmallow who only beams so brightly whenever he hangs out with the little girl from the quaint neighborhood.

…It’s been 12 years since then.

You’re now a perpetually tired and no-nonsense sophomore college student. Studied hard enough to get a scholarship at one of the most prestigious universities in Japan and now it feels like you’re drowning in a massive amount of school works and extra cred.

Now, looking back at your whimsical childhood life that was only made possible because of one particular Icy-Hot boy, you get a sudden feeling of euphoria course through you as you reminisce the good times.

There was a feeling of inevitability when you met Shoto.

There was something about him that drew you in.

Even at such a young age, you had the sense that the two of you would be together.

That a moment in time would come in where he would look at you in a certain way and the two of you would cross the threshold of friendship into something so much more.

Which proved to be true, as he has always felt the same way as you did.

The two of you knew each other a little better than everyone else.

All the little secrets shared through giggles and fits of laughter, the embarrassing moments shared in a small and dusty playground, and the sweet little memories that the two of you were too young to understand, but what your prying yet loving mothers both noticed.

Your lives were fated to converge like some cosmic dance. Like two shooting stars descending from the night sky. It was always fate.

It was fate that the two of you met. It was fate that the two of you would become friends, playmates, and childhood sweethearts.

But you guess it wasn’t fate that the two of you would remain friends forever.

You are still hoping for a sign in the sky or a word from the stars.

If the two of you are fated to meet again.

The soft boom of thunder and sparkle of lightning awoken you from your slumber.

You had fallen asleep whilst studying for your finals. Just ten minutes of rest. You whispered to yourself.

Those ten minutes ended up becoming an hour and a half wasted and instead of studying and memorizing the chemical formulas, you ended up dreaming about ramen instead.

Some pages of your chemistry book were creased as you had ended up using it as a pillow. You pay this no mind as you mindlessly rub your eyes out of habit, looking out the window, as rain had begun to pour outside.  

You continue to observe the rainfall as the soft sound of droplets hitting the windowpane was so soothing to you, giving you a momentary peace of mind.

Your short meditation moment was soon interrupted with the grumbling of your stomach.

“Mom and Dad aren’t home till 9…” You stretch your arms, groggily murmuring to yourself. “Might as well have a trip to the convenience store.” You hop out of your chair, reaching for a grey hoodie and matching sweatpants from your closet, trying to channel the comfy girl look as you head out.

You lock the door to your house, opening your umbrella as you whistle your way to the convenience store, taking each step carefully hoping you don’t step on any dirty puddles and hoping you see some cute little frogs on the pathway.

You stop in your tracks when you notice a black sedan parked not too far from your house. You raise suspicion a little bit until you remembered that a new family was moving in the house near you, so you decided to just brush off your skepticism.

“Welcome to Conbini! May I kindly ask you to leave your umbrella by the door?” The cashier greets you, trying to force a customer-friendly smile. They might have had a rough week and you don’t want to be labeled as those jerk kinds of customers so you nod at her and leave your parasol at the entrance.

“Oh my god.” You were about to drop the bags of food in your hands when you notice that your umbrella was gone from the parasol stand, another customer possibly mistaking their umbrella for yours. You sigh in defeat. “You know what, heck it. I could care less at this point.” You pull up your hoodie, dashing your way back home, hoping you don’t end up getting sick from this careless situation you’ve put yourself into.

You stop in your tracks once again when you see a dashing-looking man standing in front of the gates of your house.

tall, well built, half and half colored hair that was wet and tangled, wearing a long and patterned coat, hands in his pockets… it felt as if he was waiting for someone to come out of your home.

Could this be…?

He was alerted by the sound of your steps rippling with the puddles in the pavement, turning to face you, his umbrella twirling with him.

His eyes grow wide at the sight of seeing you, and you notice his chest rise up, like a feeling of relief and of hope.

“(Y/N)…?”

“S-shoto?”

These are still the beautiful heterochromatic eyes you know and love. Only this time, it had a darker hue reflecting from his orbs. These are eyes who have seen and who have gone through so much.

You can’t even believe it.

Here he was, standing right in front of you. The boy you loved all those years ago.

Even more handsome, mature, and striking, and yet you could feel this broken emptiness radiating from him. Emotional scars that still run deep through him and… at this moment, you just want him to bare his heart to you. All this pain and suffering he has felt all these years.

You feel droplets of water sliding down your cheek like crystal teardrops.

“It’s really you…” You were about to drop the bags of food in your hands due to your blissful bewilderment but Shoto rushes to you with his umbrella, shielding you from the storm.

He was a bit too close and you could feel the heat rush up to your cheeks again, a feeling you have not experienced in so many years.

“Ah. I’m sorry.” He steps back a little from you and you can hear yourself internally monologue “nooo” as he takes a few steps away. “It’s been 12 years isn’t it?” He catches your attention again.

“It is. Yeah...” You nod, still looking up at him, a certain twinkle in your eyes and an inexplicable feeling growing in your chest. “W-what brings you here?” You add, your voice soft and sweet, whether you did this on purpose or not will forever remain a question.

“My family… we’re moving back here.” He replies quickly. solemn, yet there was a tint of excitement in his tone. “My father thought it was best if my mother, my siblings and I lived in a different house than him after… all the pain that he made us go through… and so… here we are.”

“Oh! Would you like to come inside and have some coffee?” You ask, pointing your finger to your humble abode. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” You giggle jokingly, trying to keep the atmosphere light and warm despite the cold weather present around you.

You start heading to the direction of your house, knowing that Shoto will follow you inside until… 

he grabs you by the arm, enveloping and pulling you in for a tight yet soft and comforting hug. A feeling that you’ve been wistfully longing for such a long time. 

A feeling that only Shoto Todoroki could give.

“I missed you so much (Y/N)… can you share your happiness again with me?”

In the midst of the rainy summer season that brought nothing but dim and grey skies, wet and damp atmosphere, and endless floods of sorrow, you were his spring. The rosebud opening in the watery sunshine.

The whimsical girl with grass-stained knees running around the meadow with him… like a prophecy telling him that new beginnings were about to come, your personality and your appearance reminded him of the cherry blossom trees that symbolized a time of renewal.

You were the rainbow after a storm. Spreading light and color to those around her…

The one who brought back light and color to his life again.

 “from all the memories stored in my heart”

I only picked up and connected the ones of you.”

  ೃ taglist: @chibishae34  @lovelytarou​ @ramunegoddess​, @serossimpy @laudthingcat​

#shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #todoroki x y/n #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto x reader

[seraphdreams]

butterfly

opening day

tooru oikawa; butterfly (located on the collarbone) - you’re his first customer of the day but somehow you just seem so innocent, so easy to manipulate

contains - manipulation/breeding, oblivious!reader

word count - 1.8k

whistling is heard from inside the dark shop. you can’t quite make out the body, other than your own standing in front of the reflective windows, black curtains draped from the interior. you check the time on your phone. 12pm, just like you scheduled but maybe they weren’t open yet. “i guess i’ll sit in my car and wait” you think to yourself. you could barely turn 90° before you hear the latch of the door unlock. a hue of dark brown swiftly treading past you.

you stare in silence as you watch the tall man shake the pack of cigarettes in his hand before lighting it with the small black lighter in his pocket. he takes a drag, a cloud of smoke dissolving in the air. he must’ve now noticed your presence, the way you gazed at him in awe. “are you my 12:00?” he asks, peering from the corner of his chestnut brown eyes.

his voice came out sweet despite the cig in his mouth, and warmed up your insides. you shuffled a bit, straightening out the hem of the tiny skirt you’re wearing. “yeah” you answer in a meek tone.

he rests his hand, holding the lighter and cigarette box, into his pocket. he walks to the glass door of the shop, opening it. you take notice of his lean built arms, muscles flexing as he pulls the door open.

“have a seat, there’s a catalog on the table. i’ll be in there shortly” the pretty boy said, flashing a quick smile as you head inside. the name tag on his shirt flashing from the light of the sun. “tooru oikawa”

a whiff of cologne hits you as you step into the small yet spacious parlor. beautiful framed renaissance drawings hung on the light grey/blue walls. you then look down at the shiny wood floor, not a spec of dust in sight. you directed yourself to the comfy looking couch, decorated in turquoise pillows. a black book catches your eye, labeled in white new times roman font, “ideas”. you flip through the pages, looking at multiple upon multiple various tattoos.

this was your first time getting a tattoo and you said to yourself that you wouldn’t get anything too big and something easy to cover up. “hmm?” you hum to yourself as you found a particular photo that caught your attention.

“found anything yet?” you hear oikawa call out as he walks through the door, the diminutive wind blowing his wavy tresses off his face.

he ambles to lean behind the couch you were sitting at, looking down at the book in your hands, a disregard for personal space. you feel his breath ghost against your neck causing you to shudder inconspicuously. you raise the catalog higher and point at the picture so he could see. a breathy chuckle escapes from his throat, you feel the way his eyes trail up your neck and back down.

“you want a butterfly?” he purrs against your skin. you tense up at the sudden intimacy, languidly nodding your head in response. “hmm? on your collarbone too?” he murmurs quietly, trailing his fingers against the skin. there’s a whoosh of cold air as the man shifts from behind you to sitting on the loveseat in front of you. he tilts his head sideways, brows furrowed.

“have you ever gotten a tattoo before?”. you watch his eyes linger on your bare skin, from your neck to your stomach, down to your thighs. you squirm in your seat. “no”. his face lights up in a smirk, a soft chuckle following suit. he gets up from the seat and stands between your slightly parted legs. you meet eyes with the form towering over you. his previous grin now more mischievous than before.

“maybe i should tell you about the procedure, hmm? just so you’re a bit more comfortable” he leans into your ear with that last word. you feel your heart beat fast, afraid that it might be too loud and he’ll hear. “oh, don’t be so nervous. i’ll take good care of you, cutie” he teases in a cocky tone. you watch as he kneels down slowly, keeping his stern eye contact with you. somehow the rock music playing in the background began to sound quieter, softer and the air you’re breathing felt thicker, holding tension.

his soft hand pressed against your thigh, pushing it away from the other, eyes widening at the sight before him. with his nimble fingers, he drew light patterns on the flesh. “i-i don’t think this is supposed to happen” you mutter to him, cheeks hot from embarrassment and confusion. his devious expression turned serious as your words swirled through his head.

“oh, so you don’t think i know what i’m doing?” his now anger filled eyes, glare up at you.

your breath hitched and you could feel nothing but a sense of danger close up your throat. time felt slow and your surroundings had vanished from your optic perspective. just you and tooru at that moment. “no, no, i-“ he got impatient at your babbling nonsense, adding on “i’m the best in the city. do you want the tattoo or not?”

“yes—yes, i do” you gulp. his expression turns calm, him lifting up your skirt. embarrassment floods even harder through your body but tooru doesn’t notice. he’s to caught up in how pretty your pussy looks, in those white lacy underwear; almost like a present wrapped just for him. he hooks his finger on the lace and pulls it down, revealing glistening folds and plump lips. you gasp at the cold air hitting your cunt. it doesn’t take long for tooru’s fingers to dance their way to your clit, tapping rhythmically.

you huff at the sensation, throwing your head back. you could hear him lowly chuckle in response. “tell me what you want me to do”. he pulls away his fingers and looks up at you with seductive eyes, watching you look down at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “please—make me feel good” you whimper timidly. the words sounded like music to his ears.

using his tongue, he glides down your slit, lapping up the slick. you grab his shoulder, digging crescent moon shapes into the flesh. warmth floods your core as he slips the muscle into your hole, exploring your walls. “nnghh..” you shudder as you clench around his tongue, the grip you have on him definitely leaving a bruise later. he keeps pumping using the sharp tip to curl against your velvet core. your shaky legs try to close around him but the iron force of his arm doesn’t let it happen.

your vision becomes blurry and tear filled as he thrashes his tongue on your sweet spot. loud pants and cries fill the nearly empty room. you use your free hand to rub circles on your neglected clit, begging for release. his ruthless speed doesn’t stop, tipping you further and further off the edge. you feel your heart pound harder when he reaches deeper in your walls, sloppily using his tongue and lips to satisfy you. the familiar feeling in your core begins to overpower you. in seconds, you’re gripping onto the couch for leverage as you gush and cream all over his tongue.

he licks his lips, lifting off one knee to stand over your trembling body, face to face with the swelling of his cock in his jeans. “did that feel good?” he coos, wiping the tears from your eyes. “yeah” you try to say but it comes out as more of a whisper. he settles back down in the loveseat across from you, staring at how your messy cunt drips. you pant even more but stop briefly at the sound of unzipping.

you turn your head to see veiny, pale hands wrapped around the girth that is his dick. beads of precum leaked from the top down to his fingers as he pumped himself a few times. noticing how you stare at him, he pats his thigh, calling you over.

“help me finish, yeah?”

you walk over, legs quivering from the previous action, and straddle his waist. he takes a second to examine you, eyes locked on that sacred spot of your collarbone. “that butterfly s’gonna look real nice on you..”.

he lines his cock up with your drenched opening, teasing the tip in and out. “tooru, please” you mutter. for you to be impaled on his cock, you still had that innocent glow to you, still very pliable. you rock your hips adjusting to his length as he slowly pushes you down further. a shaky moan leaves his lips once he bottoms out. you hum in impatience as he watches your body, moving up and down slightly.

“you must want to get off as well, hmm?” he whispers into your ear. you clench around his shaft, nodding your head. he reaches his hands below your skirt to wrap around your waist, encouraging you to move. you lift your weight up to slam back down, the tip of his cock ever so gently kissing your cervix. “ah!” you gasp. his fingers come up to lay flat on your tongue, reaching deeper down your throat. you continue the bouncing motions on his cock. his eyes narrow as he gazes at you with lust filled eyes, nothing but evil intent behind it.

a wanton whine slips from you as you drag your tight cunny on his length. he was big enough to have you gasping for air every time he hit that spot of yours and brings the both of you closer to reaching that high. skin slapping and squelching was all that filled your little ears. the way he grunted each time you slammed down on him, had you clenching tighter and tighter.

his dick twitched as he let out a choked out “fuuuckk”. you can tell he was close, closer than you were as he reached the digits from his mouth to down where you two connected, harsh circles causing friction on your clit. “no, no..too much!” you cry out in overstimulated pain. but he doesn’t care, those words not meaningful enough to create a barrier. you rest your head against his chest, panting as you lax. he ruts up into your cunt, angered by the fact you got lazy with him.

tears flow down your face, his cock bruising your cervix with each thrust and you can feel the way your body seizes in orgasm. “please! ah, please!” you cry, gushing around his shaft. it doesn’t take long for him to crumble with you, flooding his seed into your greedy cunt.

after you’ve both caught your breaths, he lifts you up. “ah ah ahh, don’t fall asleep on me now. we’ve still got a tattoo to do. and you got knocked up as a present, remember me” he winks conceitedly.

#oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader smut #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa #tooru oikawa smut #oikawa fic #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #smut fic #haikyuu smut fic

[sandwichrin]

A Little into You (Junkyu x Reader) (Ch. 30)

Chapter 30 - Roses

Word count: 6.5k words

Genre: Fanfiction, PG13, Comedy, Romance.

A/N: Hello!! Omg it’s been so long! T^T I am literally crying aaaa I am so sorry for making you all wait this long! But-- I have made this chapter extra long so I hope it makes up for me being away for a while ;-; <3 also-- idk y’all, this chapter was supposed to be fun but while i was proofreading i actually shed a tear because--- well, okay i’ll just leave it to y’all to read and find out T^T anyways, this was long wow but i love you all and please take care always <3

The guy brought our Treasure friends to his house that was only a 10-minute walking distance from the market—but also less noisy in their opinion.

“Here you go, make yourselves at home,” the guy said with his smile. He pushed open the front door for the boys to enter.

Hyunsuk was reluctant to enter but then Junkyu was already stepping his foot into the guy’s living room so in the end the rest of them just followed suit.

“Have a seat, I’m gonna go out and wait for my friend outside,” the guy said.

“W-wait, you’re leaving us here? On our own?” Hyunsuk asks, suspicious of the guy leaving them simply after inviting them to tag along with him before this.

“Yup. It’s gonna be for a while, really,” the guy replied. “Here, I’ll leave the front door open for you guys,” he said as he pushed the door open. He then left through the door. “See you guys in a bit!” he waved goodbye at them before going.

Jihoon and Hyunsuk immediately huddled up close to each other. “Yah, don’t you think this guy is kinda suspicious??” Jihoon whispered towards his hyung.

“You feel it too?? Dang, I thought I was the only one that feels that everything around here is fishy.” Hyunsuk answered back.

“Yeah! And he kept mentioning about meeting his friend too. I mean, he could’ve brought us to meet his friend, no?? Why keep us waiting here??”

Hyunsuk lets out a gasp. “What if he’s scheming on kidnapping us?”

“Aigoo, that’s nonsense hyung! If he wanted to kidnap us why would he leave the front door open anyways,” Jaehyuk chuckled at his hyungs’ paranoid behaviour.

“He could be bringing a thug back here, you know,” Jihoon said with a serious expression on his face.

All four of them fell silent for a couple seconds.

Junkyu and Jaehyuk made eye contact with each other before bursting into laughter.

“What thug, hyung? This town’s people seemed so nice,” Junkyu said in between his laughs.

“I know right? Look at them hyungs, they’re being overly paranoid over nothing!” Jaehyuk joined in laughing at the two older members.

“Besides, if you feel like that guy is up to no good, why’d you even agree in coming back here with him, huh?” Junkyu points out towards Hyunsuk.

Hyunsuk folds his arms against his chest. “Hey, it’s not my fault. You all could’ve stopped me from saying ‘yes’ to him too. But you guys didn’t. So we’re all in fault if anything bad happens to us here,”

 *

Haenam (still the same morning)

It was close to 11am when you were finally done with helping out your teacher at her small vegetable farm a mile away from her house.

You helped her carry the basket filled with harvested cabbages whilst you let her carry the lighter vegetables in her basket. Your teacher, whom you have been accustomed to call as Aunt Nari ever since she took you into her care after your sister passed on couple years back, walked in front of you. She held onto the smaller basket containing the carrot and beansprouts in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you watched her back facing you. She was the closest person you had as a mother figure after your sister. You felt emotional just thinking about how nice of a person your teacher was for taking care of you—even when you weren’t that much worthy looking after, you thought to yourself.

You were about to start reminiscing on the times your teacher had looked out on you and your sister but then your emotions hit pause as soon as you saw the guy standing nearby your Aunt Nari’s house.

You stopped in your tracks.

You narrowed your eyes at the guy, your grip on your basket tightening.

“Oh! Aunt Nari! Good morning~” The guy greeted your teacher as she passed by him to head towards her house.

Your teacher realised that you weren’t following closely behind her anymore, making her turn around.

“Y/n, what are you doing standing there? Get inside and get changed into something warm! Then we can sort out the vegetables,” she called out to you.

“Ah, uhh, you can head on inside first, aunty. I’ll join in later,”

Your teacher eyed both you and the guy standing in front of the house beside hers. She shook her head and said, “Alright but don’t take too long the both of you.” With that, she heads inside her house, not caring about what you and her neighbour’s son were up to doing—since she’s fairly familiar of what always happen when the both of you meet each other.

As soon as your teacher closed the front door of her house, your hand instantly grabbed onto a piece of the round cabbage from the basket you were holding.

“How’s my loving friend doing to—AGH,” the guy screamed halfway through greeting you as he tried to avoid the cabbage you threw at him.

“Yah! Kim Dongyun! Just what are you thinking, huh?! The nerve you have of just popping up here!” you called out to him as you marched towards him, the heavy basket still in your hands.

“Don’t! I said, don’t!” Dongyun backs off from where he was standing. He hurries to grab the cabbage that you had thrown earlier from the ground and raises it in his hands—making you stop marching towards him. Although to be honest, you were already standing right outside the fence of his house.

“Aha! That’s right, just stay there!” He instructed you. You scowled at him.

“What’s with that look, huh? If you move an inch, I’ll throw this cabbage far away. And then Aunt Nari will be sad because you lost her harvest,” he threatened you.

“Kim Dongyun…” you said his name in a menacing tone.

“Now, now. Listen—I’m sorry, okay? I overslept—AHHH!” he screamed again as he managed to evade another cabbage from hitting him. The cabbage passed by him and rolled into his house through the front door.

“You overslept?? Yah! Did you have any idea how tiring it was to harvest these cabbages and carry them back here all alone?! Aunt Nari kept backing you up, saying that you probably have errands to run today and that we shouldn’t be bothering you—but WOW you overslept!” You nagged. “I had to get up early and do all the harvesting alone when you agreed to help me just yesterday!” you added.

“Oh come on, Y/n. Don’t be like this. Don’t get mad.” He said to you gently. He walks up close to you and hands over the cabbage he held earlier to you. “If you get angry at me like this every time we meet…you’ll get wrinkles easier,” he whispered now that he was close enough.

Your jaw fell when you heard him say this. You dropped the basket in your hand and snatched the cabbage from his hands. “Oh ho you are so dead Kim Dongyun…”

 *

Dongyun’s House (Living Room / Still the same morning)

“Should we make a run for it while we can?” Hyunsuk asks, still worried if they were being kidnapped or conned at this point.

“He’s been out for a while, hasn’t he?” Jihoon asks back.

“Precisely 15 minutes. Not that long to be honest,” Jaehyuk answered as he checked the time on his phone.

“Which is why we should run while we can. The longer we wait, the sooner he comes back.” Hyunsuk reasoned.

“Okay but tell that to the sleeping beauty here,” Jihoon points at Junkyu that had already passed out on the floor beside him.

“What?? He was awake a minute ago! When did he even fall asleep??”

Jaehyuk snickered at the sight of his hyung sleeping on the floor.

Hyunsuk groaned just thinking about how it’d be impossible to escape now that Junkyu’s asleep. He shook his head. He shouldn’t give up so easily, he thought. He’s the leader. He’s responsible for everyone’s safety here.

“Yah, Junkyu-aa, wake upppp,” Hyunsuk called out to the sleeping koala boy.

“Aigoo hyung, just leave him be. I’m sure we’ll be just fine. Besides, you were the one who instantly agreed when the random guy invited us to tag along with him. So why should you be worried now?” Jaehyuk said, trying to calm his hyung down. Honestly, he doesn’t feel like he’s in danger.

“Sshh, shh,” Jihoon suddenly said. “Do you guys hear that?”

“What?” Hyunsuk asks.

“I hear voices outside,”

And just in time, a cabbage flew in through the front door that was left open earlier.

“Wah! I-is that, a cabbage??” Hyunsuk shouted in shock.

“I think people are fighting outside,” Jihoon said as he rose to his feet.

“Hurry, wake Junkyu up! We need to get out of here before we get involved in any way!” Hyunsuk said, hurrying towards Junkyu to wake him up.

 *

Haenam (Outside Dongyun’s house)

“I said give it back!” You ordered Dongyun since he managed to snatch the cabbage from your hands again this time. Though you were glad you had managed to hit him with it twice earlier.

“No. Stop. Aunt Nari will be pissed to see her cabbage being beaten down like this. Look at it! It’s no longer round in shape!”

You stopped reaching for the cabbage that he had been raising out of your reach since he was obviously taller than you. “Fine. Just give it back then. Then I’ll keep it back into the basket.” You point at the basket not far behind you.

Dongyun was reluctant to give it back to you. He knows how good you were at tricking him back when you both were kids so he knew what was up your sleeve most of the time.

You rolled your eyes at him. As if reading his mind, you said—“Come on. We’re not kids anymore. Just give it back, okay? I need to send it back to Aunt Nari’s house.”

Dongyun lets out a sigh and hands over the cabbage into your hands.

“Thank you,” you said to him. You turned around to head towards the basket.

But just as you were right in front of the basket, you swiftly turned around and shout at your friend “ Hah! Jokes on you! I’m not done being mad at you!” you then threw the cabbage in his direction.

Dongyun had been keeping an eye on your movements as you were walking towards the basket earlier so he had expected this from you—which made him duck as quick as lightning, evading the hit from the cabbage you threw.

Now.

Even though the cabbage missed Dongyun, your throw was kind of hard, which made it flew further towards another group of people that were stepping out of Dongyun’s house.

Lucky for Hyunsuk who had been cautious since he first entered the house—he had been looking out carefully as he stepped out of the front doors which made him notice the flying cabbage heading towards them.

“CABBAGE! DUCK!” he shouted.

Hyunsuk, Jaehyuk and Jihoon immediately moved to the sides—except for Junkyu who was still groggy from waking up from his nap.

“What? Ducks?” he said, with his eyes halfway open, him still being half asleep.

It all happened so fast.

One second Junkyu heard his hyungs waking him up from his nice nap.

And then he was being dragged towards the front door.

Next, he thought he heard his Hyunsuk-hyung screaming something about ducks.

And then he felt something hitting him in the face. Something round. Was it a ball?

After that he couldn’t remember what happened. Everything went black.

 *

Aunt Nari’s House (Bedroom 1)

“I told you both not to fight anymore. You both are no longer kids. See what happened now?? You got someone hurt.” Your Aunt Nari nagged at both you and Dongyun as she was standing at the door of the room.

“You’re lucky you knew these people too, Y/n. Imagine getting sued for hurting such handsome boys,” she added.

You shuddered from the word sue. You were mostly terrified of that. Lucky for you your Aunt Nari hadn’t realise that the boy you had accidentally hit with a cabbage was one of the famous Kpop groups’ vocalist. If she knows this you would have probably been thrown to live in the streets, you thought.

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled. You do feel bad though. It’s not like you had meant to threw it at him anyways.

You scowled at Dongyun who was sitting on the floor beside you.

“I can see you scowling at Dongyun from behind here,” Aunt Nari said, making you turn your head back to look at Junkyu who was lying down on the mattress in front of you.

“Okay then. You all watch out for the boy til he wakes up, okay? I’ll be making lunch for us all.” All of you nod at this. “Oh and make sure these two don’t fight again. God knows what would happen next if they do,” she said as she shook her head. You knew she was referring to you and Dongyun.

After Aunt Nari left you kept quiet. Well, actually, the whole room was quiet. Suddenly it felt awkward to be in the room, you thought. Even though everyone here are your friends, you couldn’t help but feel weird being in here with them.

“Y/n?” Hyunsuk suddenly voiced out, making you raise your head to look at him.

Hyunsuk, Jihoon and Jaehyuk were seated opposite you and Dongyun, with Junkyu laying in the middle of everyone.

“Y-yes?” You answered him.

“Don’t feel bad. You didn’t mean to do it.” He said softly.

You nod your head slowly at this. Your eyes went back to stare at Junkyu.

“Yeah, he’s probably drifted back to sleep anyways after you knocked him out,” Jihoon chimed in.

You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at what Jihoon has said. Jihoon saw your lips curve upwards slightly, making him smile his warm smile at you.

“Okay.” You managed to say as you controlled your smile.

“So…these are the friends that you’ve been telling me about?” Dongyun asks, now that he’s confident you weren’t going to scold him or anything on what had happened.

You nod your head at him.

“And this is the guy that you lik—” his words got cut off as your hand immediately covered his mouth, making the rest of his sentence sound muffled.

“Ahahaha shut up Dongyun-aa.” You laughed awkwardly. “He’s always spouting nonsense. Don’t mind him,” you said to your Treasure friends.

The rest of them simply nod their heads as they watched you nagged at Dongyun about not spewing nonsense in front of your friends and that he should respect them because they are your guests now.

“Don’t you dare point a finger at Junkyu again,” you huffed, ending your nag at your friend.

Dongyun rolled his eyes at you. “Sure. Protect him at all costs, no?” he said sarcastically, earning a scowl from you again.

Hyunsuk watched the whole time you were talking with Dongyun. He couldn’t help but feel…jealous. You seemed so close with this Dongyun guy, and judging by the way you both banter with each other, it seems like the both of you are super close and comfortable with each other. Almost like you both were meant to be with each other.

He shook his head slightly and decided to just focus on watching over Junkyu.

 *

Aunt Nari’s House (Lunchtime)

Your teacher had cooked up a whole spread of foods since she was excited to see many guests at her home this time.

And not to mention, handsome guests at that too.

Seeing that she only has two sons—one being married and has migrated overseas and another one living in the city (who is also your boss), having this many boys at home made her feel like she was back in her early motherhood days.

You were the closest she had to have as a daughter, in which was why she was always meddling in your love life and asking why you weren’t dating anyone.

“Don’t be shy! Help yourselves!” Aunt Nari exclaimed excitedly as she invites the boys (and you) to eat the food that she had generously cooked that afternoon.

All of you were sitting on the floor, surrounding the table that Aunt Nari had pulled out from her storeroom, one she had kept for family gatherings since it was as big as a four-seater dining table—only shorter since it was meant for dining on the floor.

The Treasure boys were quite shy at first, only taking small bites of the foods until a couple minutes passed and they were pretty sure that your teacher was just another warm-hearted aunt that they all had somehow came across with in their own lives.

“Aigoo, I’ve never thought Y/n to have such handsome friends in the city. I’ve always thought that the only guy friend she had was Dongyun,” Aunt Nari said as you were all eating.

“Aish aunty, don’t say that. Y/n is such a pleasant person, it’s only logical for her to have many friends in the city,” Jaehyuk answered, smiling.

“I doubt that,” Aunt Nari teased. “If you boys have any friends who are interested in dating, why don’t you try to introduce Y/n to them? It’s nothing big, but I worry that Y/n would never settle down and would end up dying alone,”

You choked on your rice, earning a pat on your back from Dongyun whom was sitting beside you.

“Aunt Nari! What nonsense are you saying??” You asked as soon as you were done coughing.

“Oh? I’m only looking out for you, Y/n. Joonyoung told me that he had tried matching you with couple of his friends in the city but that didn’t seem to work out,”

You sighed. “Well, to be honest—it is awkward to date your boss’ friends. Besides, they all…don’t match me either.”

The rest of the boys listened to your conversation with your teacher, feeling like as if they’re listening to a mother trying to convince their daughter to get married soon. They felt like they weren’t even there with the both of you.

“Aigoo, you’re too picky! That’s why you’ll end up alone,” she nagged.

“I won’t end up alone.” You scooped up some rice into your mouth. “I’ll just get myself a pet,” you said, whilst munching on your food.

“Hmm. That won’t do. I might as well just marry you off to Dongyun since his mother is my close friend,” she said nonchalantly.

This made EVERYONE around the table cough and choke on their foods—including you of course.

Aunt Nari stopped eating and looked around the room at all of you. “Oh my god is the food too spicy?? Why is everyone suddenly coughing??”

You rubbed your left eye that had teared up from the choking, “Aunt Nari! What nonsense are you saying?? In front of my friends too!”

“Aish. I’m just saying. You’re too picky. Since you both are close, might as well just get you both matched up,”

You shook your head. “Nu uh. Nope. We had this talk, remember? I’m not getting matched up with anyone,”

“Aigoo Aunt Nari, what are you saying? Y/n and I are just friends,” Dongyun chimed in.

“Hmm. You’re both stubborn.” Aunt Nari complained. She set her bowl on the table, indicating that she was done with her meal.

Jaehyuk sensed the tension going on in the dining area you are all in so he decided that maybe he should try to ease everyone. He places his bowl onto the table as well.

“Thank you for the wonderful meal, aunty,” he smiles his usual charming charm. “Since you helped cook everything, I’ll help with the cleaning, okay?”

Aunt Nari was taken back by the sudden generosity from him since usually her own sons would argue on who would do the cleaning up but having a man who graciously volunteered to do seemed so new in her household that she was simply amazed by the words that came out of Jaehyuk’s mouth.

“Ah. Aigoo, aigoo! You really don’t have to!” She waved her hand at him.

“It’s nothing, really! I always help around in the dorms and when I’m home I help my mum in the kitchen too,”

Now you see, saying these kinds of words to Aunt Nari wasn’t really a good thing at the moment because she was in that obsessive mode of finding a suitor for you. So of course, you can imagine what she said next:

“My my. Who knew such a fine man would have such fine manners?” Aunt Nari leaned forward towards Jaehyuk’s direction. “Then it’s set. I’ll have you in line as my son-in-law,”

You laughed at this. “Ahuh, as if Joonyoung-ssi would be happy with you matchmaking him as well,”

She shot you a look.

“What? I have nothing against Joonyoung-ssi dating men but don’t you think matching him with a man he doesn’t know would make him less happy?”

This earned you a bonk in the head from your teacher.

“Ow!”

“You’re the only person I’m looking a son-in-law for,” she hissed at you.

“Huh??” both you and Jaehyuk asked at the same time, confused.

“Jaehyuk-ssi, right? I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.” Aunt Nari smiled as she got up to her feet to leave for the kitchen. “Y/n, once you’re done why don’t you bring your friends around town?” she was no longer in the room when she said this.

“Alright,” you called back to her.

You continued chewing on your food but then you felt uncomfortable somehow so you raised your head to see all of your friends staring at you.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“Why…is your Aunt Nari…so obsessed with finding you a husband…?” Junkyu asked.

“I guess I was the closest she had as a daughter so she probably just wants to make sure I do get married before she dies or something.” You shrug. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t mean what she says,”

“Pfft. As if. Remember when she forced you to be my date for my sister’s wedding? She kept pushing and convincing my mum about it too. Our teacher isn’t one to kid around. She's been keeping an eye on me since i was a kid and when she found out about y/n being my close friend she wouldn't stop shipping me with her,” Dongyun scoffed at you. “And then I had to turn down Yerim’s offer to dance with me at the wedding because I had to only dance with you,” he sighs loudly.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh don’t be so dramatic about it. We were 9 years old at that time for goodness’ sake!”

Your Treasure friends laughed at this discovery.

“So what I’m saying is--,” Dongyun continues, ignoring everyone’s laughter. “I’m just glad I’m off the hook for that son-in-law list of hers. But your friend here, good luck getting out,” he smirks at Jaehyuk.

Instantly everyone’s laugh died down upon hearing this.

“O-okay calm down y’all. I promise, none of you will be forced to marry anyone here. Including me.” You assured them as you grab the glass of water in front of you.

“I wouldn’t mind though. What can I say? Aunts and mums love me~” Jaehyuk said in a sing-song tune.

You giggled at this, finding his carefree demeanour adorable.

The rest of the boys at the table doesn’t find it funny though. Jaehyuk doesn’t realise this but his friends were staring daggers at him for saying something like that.

 *

After lunch, all of you had taken a walk around the small town area, you and Dongyun being the tour guides for your guests of course.

The both of you introduced the local elementary school that you and Dongyun went to, the bakery that you had always brought goods from when you lived with your sister, the market area (even though they’ve all been there earlier this morning), the small café that serves the best iced peach tea and then some other places that you were fairly familiar with.

Though the tour had to be kept short because Dongyun had to head back home and help his dad at their farm a little far away from town; and also because the locals couldn’t stop gawking at your friends everywhere you go. Not that you could blame them though, your Treasure friends are indeed good-looking plus they are all new faces in this town so surely it got the local people curious about their identity.

And so, after the tour ended and after Dongyun had left, you had sorted your friends into several rooms in your Aunt Nari’s house to sleep in for the night but that evening they all had fallen asleep in the living room instead.

 Aunt Nari’s House (Evening)

You too also took a nap as soon as you saw your friends huddled up in the living room sleeping. It wasn’t that long though, your nap. You woke up after half an hour.

You got out of your room and headed downstairs to check on your friends.

“Ah, they’re all still asleep.” You muttered to yourself as soon as you saw them.

You yawned quietly and head towards the kitchen. There was a door leading to the backyard of the house from there.

Before heading outside, you checked the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 4.35pm. Now’s a good time to check on the plants outside, you thought.

As soon as you stepped outside, you felt the cool breeze blowing against your exposed hands and face. It was cold, yet the Sun was warming enough at this time.

You took a deep breath and head towards the medium-sized potted plant not far from the door.

The pot consisted of a variation of Japanese roses. Orange, pink, yellow, purple—all growing in tangly stems in the pot.

You smiled to yourself. When you first brought the stem cutting of the plants last year, your aunt Nari was surprised because you were never the type to be interested in farming or taking care of plants. But then during your holiday last year, you had brought home the stem cuttings and planted the roses on your own, tending to it everyday too.

It was only when you had to leave for the city again that you told Aunt Nari that you decided to gift the roses to her in hopes that she would take good care of it while you were away.

You squatted in front of the pot, eye-levelling with the row of colourful tiny roses. “Hello my beautiful friends. You’re all looking wonderful as always,” you whispered towards the plant.

Your finger traced the delicate petals, feeling the soft texture against your skin. You hummed happily to yourself. Maybe a break from the city is what you needed after all. As tiring as it was to do the farming work and market runs here, you’ve felt at more peace compared to when you were in the city. Maybe…what your boss did was right after all.

Okay but minus the part where he took your phone away from you. That wasn’t necessary at all, you thought.

“They’re pretty,” a voice whispered from behind you, startling you.

You swiftly turn around to see Hyunsuk standing behind you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he blurted as soon as he sees your expression.

You let out a breath of relief. It was only Hyunsuk.

You shook your head and pat the ground beside you. “It’s fine. Come, sit.”

Hyunsuk sat down beside you whom was no longer squatting by now.

“Yours?” He points at the pot of Japanese roses.

You nod back at his question.

“They’re really pretty.”

“Yup,” you nodded again. “Aunt Nari took care of them really well,”

Hyunsuk hummed back in response. “Aunt Nari seems really nice,”

“She is. Even though we’re not blood-related, she’s treated me so well,” you said, your fingers tracing the flower petals again.

“Oh. She’s…not your…”

“She was my high school teacher.” You answered even though Hyunsuk hadn’t finished his question.

“She…took me in when my sister passed away during my senior year,” you added.

“Oh. Y/n, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be.” You turned to him and smiled. “It happened.”

You look at your hands now. “It happened so quickly too…I didn’t have time to process what was really going on.”

Hyunsuk reaches out his hand and places them on yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. “If you don’t mind me asking…how did it all went down…”

Hyunsuk didn’t want to come across as insensitive when he asked this but he genuinely wanted to know you better. You were opening up about your past—one thing him and the boys never really heard you talk about. He wanted to know everything about you. Your past, your present.

You felt his hands grip yours tightly, not in a forceful way though. It was as though he was giving you strength to look back on the past that you had so much wanted to shut off your life.

Your eyes still looking down, you started talking, “When my parents separated back then…they sent us to our grandmother here—in this very town. I was 7 at the time, and my sister was 12. To be honest, it wasn’t a bad experience at all. Our grandmother was perfect. She took care of us really well. She was…” you took a deep breath before continuing, “…the perfect parent we ever had. Our parents could never treat us that well,” you chuckled.

“We had a great childhood here. We made friends, we had plenty of people taking care of one another here. I spent my school days with my sister. When I was in my senior year, my sister had already started working at the time.”

Hyunsuk heard the strain in your voice. Ah, it’s the painful part now, he thought.

“It was the day of my college entrance exams. I was already in the school grounds when I got the call. My sister got caught in an accident at the highway roads when she was on her way to work.”

You could feel the tears streaming down your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. You could never keep your tears in whenever you talk about her.

Hyunsuk started stroking your head, trying to calm you down.

“She had a brain injury,” you continued. “I watched over her for two weeks while she was in a coma, and suddenly one day—” your breath hitched as the images flowed in your head this time. How it all happened. The day you felt your whole world fell apart. It wasn’t the time your parents left you, it wasn’t when your grandmother passed on—those matters, as painful as it was, you were still able to keep on living. Because you had your sister by your side. But when she left…

“I had just gotten back from the washroom when I noticed her fingers moving. I thought she was waking up from her coma…she started shaking, and then it was only minutes in when I realised she was having a seizure. I pressed on the emergency button and ran to look for the nurses outside the room.” You stopped. You wiped your tears with the back of your unoccupied hand. “The doctor and nurses wouldn’t let me watch as they tried to handle my sister’s situation so I just sat outside the room. And when the doctor came out,” you paused again to swallow the lump in your throat. “…she was already gone,”

“Y/n…” Hyunsuk said softly. He could feel the sadness seeping through his skin as he held your hand in his.

You blinked the remaining tears, feeling it wet your cheeks. You sniffled and turned to look at the boy beside you. “I’m sorry. You only asked about how it happened and yet I literally gave you backstories,” you chuckled lightly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I wanted to listen.”

You smiled gratefully at him. You wipe away the tears off your face again.

“And then your teacher took you in and then you live here? And then…you moved to the city when you started working…?” Hyunsuk tried to continue your story for you, making you giggle at his curiosity.

You nod back at him.

“Ahh so that’s why there was no tea farm in front of your house,”

“Hm?”

“Ohh, uhh, Soomin-ssi told us that your house was located in front of a tea farm.”

“Oh, that. That’s true. My grandmother’s house was near a tea farm. She must’ve have remembered about it from our conversation about me being a tea expert since I grew up near a tea farm,” you bragged.

Hyunsuk chuckles at this and ruffles your hair.

This made you instantly pull your hand from his hold to fix your hair.

“Hey, hey, keep it easy with the hair,” you whined.

Hyunsuk leaned forward towards you and stared at you for a while. “You can have unkempt hair all you want and yet I’ll still think you’re the most beautiful person in this world,” he grinned.

You blushed at his cheesy compliment. You looked away from his gaze as you braid your hair.

Hyunsuk smiled to himself as he watches you braid your hair. He really meant what he said. He knew that this was purely wrong because he had told Junkyu to confess to you—and yet here he was letting himself fall in love with you all over again.

He was…falling in love with you.

This isn’t just a crush anymore.

He was falling.

Hyunsuk’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard you talking to him.

“…what do you think?”

“Hm?” he asked, since he had missed out on the first part of your question.

“I was asking if you had any ideas for dinner later on. Aunt Nari put me up on sous chef duty for tonight. We have some fish in the freezer so maybe I’ll fry it up and then make some soup and side dishes? What do you think?”

“I’m okay with anything, really.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, right. You didn’t mention what happened to your grandmother’s house,”

“Wow, we’re really going back to that topic huh?” you chuckled.

“I mean, only if you’re comfortable with talking about it.”

You fixed your sittingg position and made it so you were sitting and facing him directly now.

“My grandmother had granted the house to my sister before she passed on so the day my sister passed away our distant relatives instantly claimed the house since there was no true owner for it after she left. Then they made it into a homestay now.”

“Your parents didn’t buy it off them?”

“Beats me. After they left us back then, we’ve never heard any news from them.” You shrugged.

“I’m sorry, again,”

“Aish, no need to be sorry. You were just asking,” you assured him. “Besides, I plan on buying the house back one day,”

“Oh? You’re planning to move back in Haenam?”

“Yup. I mean, they bought off the house but they made it into a homestay?? No one visits here. The house seemed so abandoned for so long. I had my childhood there, there’s no way I’m letting that house rot away like that,” you huffed.

“So you intend to buy it for your retirement one day?”

You shook your head. “Nope. I’m gonna raise my kids there,”

Hyunsuk was surprised to hear this. He wasn’t expecting for this answer from you. He had expected you to want to live in the city permanently after all the painful memories you had here.

“Ah, but I love the city too…I want my future kids to have their childhood here but then I want them to have the rightful amount of exposure to the city too,” you sighed.

“Well, there must be a way to make sure they have both.” Hyunsuk said.

You tilt your head at this. “How?”

“There’s always a way for everything to work out, no? Maybe…have them attend school here, and then make trips to the city on weekends?” he suggested.

“Huh, that sounds like a good idea. And since the city is a 4 to 5-hour drive from here, it could make them feel like they’re having a roadtrip too!” you were starting to feel excited now.

“Yes!! And then during school holidays we can bring the kids to Lotte World or maybe bring them for a staycation at some hotel!” Hyunsuk joined in, him being just as excited as you are.

“Wahhh oh my god Choi Hyunsuk you are one good family planner!” you showed him a thumbs up as you giggled.

“What can I say?” he said proudly. “Oh! And get this! On their weekend trips, we should pack up some food so we can have weekend picnics at the Han River Park!”

You smiled and giggled at his excited behaviour.

“Oh and for Christmas we need to make sure our kids see the Christmas festival in the city! We could bring flasks of hot choc--,” he stopped suddenly.

“Hot…chocolate?” you continued for him.

“Ah, yes, that,” he smiled apologetically at you. Hyunsuk cursed himself for going on with the conversation this much. It seemed like you didn’t notice it though.

“Your ideas all sound so cute,” you giggled.

Hyunsuk simply smiled and nodded at you. He bit his lower lip. He was glad you didn’t realise it though.

He had gotten so excited with his ideas of family planning that he had literally pictured it to be your kids with him that he was planning a life for.

He was picturing his future with you.

This is bad, he thought. He was digging himself deeper into this hole.

“There you guys are. What are you both doing out here?” a voice appeared not too far behind the both of you.

Both you and Hyunsuk turned around to see Junkyu leaning against the doorframe of the house. He stood there rubbing his eyes. It seemed that he had just woken up from his nap.

“Junkyu! You’re awake!” you smiled happily upon seeing him.

Junkyu nods his head. “Isn’t it cold out there, you both?” he asked.

“Just a little bit. You wanna come join us?” You asked him back.

Junkyu shook his head at the idea of leaving the warm house. “It’s okay. I’ll just sit in the kitchen. Don’t stay too long in the cold,” he advised the both of you before he heads back inside.

You smiled and stood up from the ground you had been sitting on since just now. You held out your hand towards Hyunsuk, offering to help him stand up as well.

As soon as Hyunsuk got to his feet, he felt you wrap your arms around him, hugging him.

“Thank you for listening, Hyunsuk. And thank you for cheering me up with your cute ideas,”

You let go of him, a smile on your face. Hyunsuk smiled back at you, seeing you happy makes him happy too.

“Now, let’s head inside! I’m gonna make something warm for everyone,” you said cheerfully as you skipped towards the house now.

Hyunsuk followed behind you, his steps slow. His smile faded slowly. He felt uneasy. Was it just him that noticed how much happier you were the moment you saw Junkyu? 

Is y/n that much in love with Junkyu? Do I not stand a chance at all? —he thought to himself.

 To be continued…

#ALIY #sandwichrin #ygtreasure #treasure #treasure fanfic #TREASURE IMAGINE #treasurefic #teufic #treasurefanfic #treasure members #all treasure members #alltreasuremembers #treasuremembers #kim junkyu #kimjunkyu #kim junkyu x reader #kimjunkyu x reader #junkyu scenarios #junkyu x reader #junkyu treasure #junkyu fic #junkyu fanfic

[nighttimepixels]

TALK TO US ABOUT MASS EFFECT I HAVE BEEN AN INSANE MASS EFFECT/SHAKARIAN TRASH PERSON SINCE 20-FUCKING-11 AND LEMME TELL YOU THOSE FEELINGS HAVENOT TARNISHED A SINGLE FRACTION IN THOSE TEN YEARS OH MY GOOOOOOODDDSSSS!!!!!!!

I DEMAND A PLAY-BY-PLAY UP TO THE MINUTE OF YOUR REACTIONS TO EVERYTHING!!!!

you are so valid and I totally see why everyone I've ever mentioned it to loves the hell out of it

aksdjlsdfj I meannnn if you want to hear my rambling about it then hell yeah

Okay, gonna put this below the cut to save everyone else XD also- since I'm not leaving this Mass Effect obsession anytime soon, if you're not interested in seeing occasional posts about it, please feel free to block the tag "night plays ME"~

(mild spoilers ahead??)

((also for real I mean it when I say this is rambling as hell lol, apologies and no stress if absolute no one reads all this))

OKAY SO Mass Effect 1-

Stars help me, I was honestly hooked right from the start?? Like even in Legendary Edition (the combined trilogy just re-released in one "can play it on one system + minor improvements", for anyone who doesn't know) where it's smoothed out, of course it's obvious that ME1 is a decade old... but the foundation for these relationships are all there and gods I love them already.

Like - Kaiden right off the top is a delightful good fightin lad, what the hell. I've heard that he's viewed as 'bland' by a good portion of the fan community but I dunno, he's a delight and even more complex by the time 2 rolls around and you encounter him on Horizon, it was honestly Ashley I was way more meh about - mostly because before you can learn about her family history/etc, she comes off as hella xenophobic and I was immediately offended for my growing space family that she didn't like/trust all the aliens around, pfff.

(she gets redeemed a bit through further actions/evolving thoughts, but I thought in retrospect it was a bummer that they didn't flip the order there, give her a chance to be liked before the complicating factor of being so rude about aliens >:c that then she could grow from... ah well. Apparently she has a good arc but uh, let's just say I chose Kaiden at the "key junction" in the latter part of the game so I won't be seeing anymore of Ashley uh... anytime soon, haha.)

Garrus??? Is??????? The ABSOLUTE best???????????

I liked him from the start, I'm always a bit of a sucker for a rogue-detective "the system won't bring this bastard to justice, so I've got to" type and all their moral shadiness XD But he just gets better, honestly, and where I'm at in ME2 (right before the Reaper IFF mission, as of typing this, with everyone's loyalty!) I am only digging myself deeper into this hole-

-*wheezing* okay anyways -

Wrex is AMAZING I love fightin' middle-aged krogan bastard, gods. Liara is great too, I'm a sucker for a wlw relationship (playing fem!Shepard, so) - buuuut I'll admit she's a bit more one-note in ME1. Last week while I was still on ME1 I remember hearing (while trying to dodge spoilers) that her arc is really good, though. I think they leaned a little hard on the 'innocent but sexy' sterteotype on her (so despite the yikes aspect of a few of the things I've learned in ME2, lol, I actually really like the complexity that's been added to her character.)

Saved Liara first, so by the time I got to Noveria and had the standoff with Benezia there was the chance to have emotions over Liara having to face her TwT and of course, I made the questionable but quality decision to free Queen Rachni heheh. no ragrets

More than a blow-by-blow of my choices though I totally wanna take the chance to say that even in the mild jankiness of ME1 (goddammit, the Mako.... please..... please just go up this impossible cliff I just want to resource hunt-) the way that the lore, both obvious/key to main plot and the lesser/filler/background/world-building kinds... I just love it. It incorporates it well, you can go ham in the codex learning more, or just dive into the basics - it's clearly a complex galaxy (and they do an even better job in 2 of fleshing it out further), and it never really felt overwhelming. It was pretty natural figuring it all out-!

Plus the interesting implications of resource hunting amongst the sapient races, and the little side missions you better bet I did every one of- there's so much rich depth in the story if you do 'em!! (And that lead with that Keeper side mission...? Looking back, damn, clever foreshadowing-!!!)

And oh my gods, Ilios??? hell yeah. I loved that mission so much, especially having Garrus & Kaiden with me when talking to the hologram/computer, and more than anything, that last sprint in the Mako trying to get to the jump before it closed-???

yeet the boi-

Also mannn I love a good setpiece, and having to go up the side of the elevator, space-side?? such a cool setup!!

Plus it felt good having been Paragon enough (as simple as the good v bad vibe system is, I don't hate it, lol) to avoid one of the Saren fights, ngl. And the er, "second fight" with Sovereign-Saren.... hell yeah

... I'll admit I had to double check my choice re whether to save the Council. I did in the end, but I swear, sometimes the way they phrase things I'm like ".... okay but Garrus is right, defeating Sovereign is more important than these few leaders??????" woops. Listen, priorities, is all I'm saying..... (￣ヮ￣|||)ゞ

'Course later they emphasize (in ME2) that there were 10,000 people on that same ship and I was like well I wouldn't have second guessed if I'd known that, I mean c'mon-

Also I did indeed romance Liara in this one, so I got that scene ;Dc But,,,, I also knew by the end that I was totally gonna romance Garrus in 2 since he's an option then finally,,,,, lemme tell you the guilt as I waffled over whether to romance Liara bc of it. hahaha.

Aaaaand Mass Effect 2-

So I'm only up to right before the Reaper IFF Mission, so I don't know the ending, etc etc lol. That said, I've just finished every side mission I've found with the exception of the Shadowbroker Quest and the Arrival Quest (I've heard the latter basically leads into ME3, and the former is best either right before the Omega 4 jump or in postgame).

So from the start - fuck yeah fuck yeah what a high adrenaline start Shepard noooooo but also yes save Joker aH-

The motion comic too hot damn nice job

I loved this setup, seriously - especially forcing Shep into this situation, having to work with/for Cerberus, and the compelling reasoning given behind "why" they do what they do (I especially found it a good point that the Salarians have the Task Force, the Asaris the Commandos, the Turians the- etc... like, true, when you put it like that, having a similar group advancing human interests/solving human interstellar problems is pretty reasonable...). That said, I love too that it really isn't shied away from how Cerberus is nonetheless fucked up - or its at least done fucked up stuff.

Listen, I still think some messed up stuff is gonna be revealed in 2's endgame......... after that Horizon mission and the Collector's ship???? TIM I SEE YOU YOU SHADY MF-

aaanyways lol...

I'm so so glad on a gameplay level they nixed the Mako style exploration. A few Hammerhead missions are fine and a lot more focused than the slippery ass navigation in that glorified ATV, pfff. The probes are a neat way of getting after similar resources - and more importantly, having good levels and some good hubs (the Zakera Wards, Omega, Ilium, etc) is way way more fun than having a more 'sprawling' space that is.... a lot of empty nonsense, lol.

Then there's the fact that we get Joker right off the bat and you can interact with him so much - and him and EDI??? Get out gods I love them. Kasumi is so right when she says they sound like a bickering old married couple lol. I have a terrible feeling that some shit is gonna happen with EDI..... but I don't think she's evil as-is, at least.

Side-eying the hell out of those "access forbidden" parts of her that she doesn't even know.... and the fact that her AI core has a locked door access................... something's gonna happen gdi LEAVE OUR ADOPTED AI ALONE.

(Also Joker pls stop fracturing your thumb on the mute button)

Also please save me there are so many hot aliens in this game,,,,, the xeno/monsterfuckers really comin' through strong in the sequels............... doin' the lord's work........................................

In general, I love how many levels ME stepped up in two with complexity and interwoven narratives!! Like, to the point it'd be almost a drag to replay ME1, even though it was fun going through it (if occasionally a bit tedious with the cookie cutter rando planet science/mine facilities, lol). Like, just from how fun and interesting ME2 is, mostly! more of all the pre-introduced races, plus new ones, plus more filling in of intragalactic politics, and more interesting implications of all these space-faring races mixing....

Also gods WREX and his planet holy shit,,,,, fuckin' hell yeah my man get their shit together and also adopt Grunt yes good-

And Mordin??? My singing semi-evil scientist best friend forced to confront his choices more than he thought he ever would have???? With some of the best ongoing general report chatter of all the companions??

(when I tell you I choked on my coffee when I talked to him after confirming romance choice w/ Garrus and that 'pamphlet' and 'anaphalactic shot if ingesting-' kajsldkfjsldfjk)

Like, fuck, the fact that they actually dive into the mixed morality and horrors of the genophage, and you can confront Mordin on it, for good reason, yet he still stands his ground, until finally some bits of his loyalty mission seem to... affect him, and I'm guessing might set up things for 3 with him? Unsure, but either way, damn, the fact that they start to dig into it...

And Taliiiii my beloved forbidden alien wife TwT her loyalty mission was SO GOOD. I love how varied they all are?? Getting to defend her and discover what she'd unwittingly been a part of-!!

Zaeed is a bastard but tbh I love that he is and that he's unapologetic in him - and Kasumi omg, best thief. A heist?? Gods, yes- I love our couch lounge chats XD

Samara is..... illegally.......... she's an illegally powerful and beautiful and eloquent MILF...........................

(.... listen I'm sapphic as hell and I'm kicking my own ass for picking her up last aksjdlfksjdfl - but her loyalty mission, damn. And seeing how there's this interesting cultural subset, and the struggle with the Asari in that they unquestioningly accept/respect justicars, but also know that the impact outside their culture is a diplomacy nightmare waiting to happen-)

,.,,,,,T,,, Thane,,,,,

I am weak for morally implicated murder dads okay?? And that voice??? His mannerisms?????? How you first see him, and that prayer after assassinating her...???????? And his history/his people's history with the hanar, gods I love how messy it is, it feels so much more real!

Also Jack is a mess and I love her (and want to get her some therapy, omg), and her and Miranda nearly duking it out after you've done both their loyalty missions??? so good and makes a lot of sense-! Honestly I would love more interactions between teammates on the ship, but there's already so much the devs had to balance I can't blame 'em for minimizing, heh. But suffice to say I also love Miranda and Jacob, even if I'm softest for my alien crew XD Hell yeah Jacob, we'll get loud and spill drinks on the citadel indeed TwT

.... I could write a whole essay on how much I love Garrus oTL Perhaps because he and Tali are the throughlines from 1 on your 2 crew, I have some of the strongest feelings about them... but genuinely, he was one of my favorite companions in the first game, and how you find him as Archangel in two? Getting to help him fight his way out after he's gone nearly 48 hours straight fighting off three gangs alone, jfc. His vengeance quest and what can happen there.... That line? fuck me, that line -

It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don't know what to do with gray...

How DARE you come for my heart like this, devs holy shit

(also, some other choice faves so far from the series from him include We can disobey suicidal orders?? and This wasn't in my training manual... [in 1, if you have him with you @ th Thorian fight] and his whole.... pop the heat sink - in his romance ;Dc)

asdasdfksadjfkl like I said I can write an essay on him PFFF suffice to say I'm very looking forward to his romance scene and where things go in 3

But yeah gods I'm just gonna keep rambling if I'm not careful lol. Gods I don't even know what to talk about it's all so good and while I can understand people roasting the obviousness of Paragon V Renegade (v neutral) choices/alignments, I think they do a pretty damn good job in 2 of pushing it further - to the point that there were some times that I accidentally got renegade points and I wasn't that mad, haha. There's so much fun in the interactions that I just have a good time anyways~

I have so many thoughts about TIM (The Illusive Man) and Cerberus.... theories evolving galore............... and like, what the hell!! Omega 4 going to the center of the galaxy is such a cool twist, goddamn - though my heart still breaks at losing Kaiden (his line if you haven't romanced him?? about feeling like he lost a limb when he lost you??? holy shit.... but I also can't blame him for not trusting Cerberus to the point of it affecting his ability to trust Shepard... like fuck Shep go after himmmm) I'm really excited to see where that goes since he comes back in 3, and what the fuck happens with Cerberus bc while I love the fact that obviously there are a lot of people in it for the right reasons, doing good work, there are those that are doing the opposite, and I have a very bad feeling about where TIM will end up landing....

All that said though I need to do the Reaper IFF mission (where I'm lightly spoiled as to getting That Boy, but not how/what happens to make it so - just that it's apparently wise to have all your side missions done before getting him...) and the actual Omega 4 jump. So we'll see what happens and what I think about it from there heheh!

.... major kudos and genuine props if you made it here to the end, I am so sorry for not editing on condensing all this, and appreciate you so much ;w;

#night answers #night plays ME #(yes that's a purposeful pun lol) #((i sure have played myself by starting this series its so good aksdjflskjfd))

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack.  general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~2750

part ii.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 15 March, 2020.  2:01 AM.   

He falls for you in between the tireless teasing, the laughter that sinks into his ears and replays like a highlight reel.  It happens when he leasts expects it, when he's got his face pressed into the velvet of Yeontan's fur and you're cooing over voice chat, whispering sweet nothings to the manic panic pup.  It comes in the moments he's not expecting it to, when he's frustrated and unbearable and you're as sunny as always, spilling yellow paint across the doors he tries to keep shut.  

Bit by bit, day by day, he finds himself thinking of you more. 

First, it's wondering what you're doing while he's half-asleep and on his way to the studio.  Do you look as tired as you sound?  What colour is your hair and how does it stick up when you've just rolled out of bed?  When you yawn, do you stretch like a cat?  He thinks you do, if the sounds you make are any indication.

Then it's asking himself whether you might like the same things he does, from horror movies to carnival rides.  Would you hold his hand as you made the drop, stomachs leaping into your throats?  Would you scream?  Would it sound anything like that terrified pterodactyl noise you make when you're spawn camped by a Roadhog?  He doesn't consider the fact that he doesn't even know if you're in the same city and you'll likely never meet - bound to the servers of Overwatch only.  

He thinks about all the things he'd like to do with you.  Video game nights filled with butter-tipped fingers and spilled popcorn.  Walks with your family dog - Natto - you'd told him about, all fluffy white fur and dark teddy bear eyes.  Sunrises on the rooftop of his building, because you had the worst insomnia he'd ever seen and what better way to spend your endless waking hours than with him.  

Jeon Jungkook knows he'll probably never get any of these things, but he lets himself daydream anyway. 

Like now, for instance, as the two of you sit in another queue at 2 AM.  You just woke up and you've got that tell-tale rattle in your lungs, words sluggish and lacking any real intent.  He imagines you look the way you sound - tired and a little out of it, with barely opened eyes and sleep-loosened limbs.  

"How'd you sleep?"  He asks softly, crossing his legs beneath him and raising his arms high above his head in the same instance.  The bones of his body realign, ridges of his spine clicking into place when he knots his fingers together and pulls taut.  

"You know - the usual,"  you muse, apathetic.  It's always the same.  

He doesn't question it any further.  He had once or twice, when you'd first started talking and he'd noticed the way you were always up at inhuman times.  One grumbling response had told him enough - your schedule was what it was and no amount of remedying could fix it.  

There's a beat of silence before he hears rustling and then the loud, inescapable sound of an electric toothbrush.  You don't bother to mute your microphone, not that he minds.  He simply sits quietly, scrolling through his phone as you go about your "morning" routine.  

"How was your day?"  You're settled back at your computer, he thinks.  The acoustics sound far less like that of a bathroom.  

"I had the day off, actually."  He'd used it to edit some footage and record a cover.  He hasn't posted it to Twitter yet - there were certain times he was supposed to, to maximize visibility - but he's excited for when he does.  It's a song that's been stuck in his head for weeks, all thanks to you.

"Woah - you didn't work today?"  There's genuine surprise in your question, rounded syllables that pop off your tongue in an explosion of shock.

“Right?”  He laughs a little, short and sweet.

Despite his carefully crafted facade, there were certain plot points that just stuck, intrinsically weaved into his day-to-day whether he liked it or not.

His jam packed schedule, for instance. 

To you, it’s the result of stretching himself too thin between teaching at his friend’s dance studio (where he also apparently moonlights as a personal trainer) and working as a videographer for his media-involved friends.  Not that you know any of them.  No, no.  All the work he does is for the little guys - none of those big companies like BigHit or JYP.  Jungkook’s just your average Joe behind the camera.

“What did you do all day then?”  You’re still in awe, little flecks of wonder threaded throughout like glittering gold yarn.  

“Hung out.  Did some editing.  I’m kind of behind.”  That was an understatement.  He’s working on footage from six months ago, trying to get it out before they head on tour and he won’t have the kind of time he has now.  

“Probably spending too much time gaming.”  

“Yeah, probably.”  Not that he minds, or that he’d change it.  He savours the time you spend together, even if it has kind of messed up his sleep schedule.  

“Sorry not sorry,”  you quip, seemingly reading his mind.  

“You should be,”  he retorts with laughter that builds in his stomach and echoes out of his chest.  “I don’t think I’ve had a good night's sleep in weeks.”

If you hadn’t had this conversation a handful of times before, he thinks you might be offended.  Instead, he can practically hear you roll your eyes - imagines your optic nerve nearly severs with the intensity of it - and grins.

“Don’t kid yourself - you know I’m the best thing about your nights!”

You’re not wrong.  “You’ve been lied to.”

“I’m suing!”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact your lawyer.”

“Wait, what?” 

The two of you have done what you always do - talked yourself into a tizzy that has you both laughing, sound crackling across the airwaves.  It’s nonsensical and silly but it feels good.  Your bond shines with it, glitters prettily between you.

Thank god for Overwatch.

You return the conversation to a semblance of normalcy first.  “Did you listen to that song I sent?”

“Yeah.”  The briefest pause.  “It was terrible.  Hated it.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

“I’m kidding.  It was really good.”  Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he’s had it on repeat for the past few days, saved to the private playlist that’s filled with the rest of your song recommendations.  

“I know!”  You’re preening as if he’d just complimented you, clearly pleased by the praise.  He supposes it’s a pretty good endorsement regardless. 

“Got any more for me?” 

“I should just make you a playlist.”

He ignores the way his heart skips a very real beat, mimics the erratic rhythm of his fingers on his keyboard.  Because he’d absolutely love that.

“You should.”

“Really?”  You sound uncertain but maybe - just maybe - a little hopeful.  He might also just be imagining things, as he so often does with you. 

“Yeah.  Why not?”  It comes nonchalantly despite the rushing in his ears, the wave that threatens to drown him.  He can feel emotion in his chest - winged and distracting.  A kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering away. 

You’re quiet for another second.  It feels like an eon.  “Okay, yeah.  I’ll start one and we can just add to it together.”

BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT’S GYM Thursday, 26 March, 2020.  6:30 PM.   

“You sound like a meathead,”  you say, off-hand and disinterested.  

He loathes the grunt that squeaks past his teeth as he gently returns the dumbbells to the floor. Cue a generous chug of water and a near death experience when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe. 

Loud coughing crackles through his airpods before he’s addressing you.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re grunting like a caveman.”

If your first comment hadn’t offended him, this one does.  Jungkook scoffs, tonguing the interior of his cheek as his brow furrows.  Weights are returned to his hands, rotated above each shoulder as he resumes another set of presses. 

“Do you even workout anything other than your fingers?”  He’s making a conscious effort not to make a sound, breath exhaled sharply through his nose.  It’s harder than he cares to admit but he’s also not about to give you an excuse to tease him further.  You already had way too much material.

“Don’t shame me!”  You really don’t sound that indignant.

“So, I’m right?  You’re a big couch potato who’s just jealous of my hot body?”

Now you’re incredulous.  It’s one of his favourite sounds because it comes draped in laughter, dancing around his head in the form of cartoon hearts. 

“Did you just say ‘hot body’, Jay?”

“Maybe I did.  What of it?”  He sniffs - he’s picked it up from you over the months - and your amusement doubles, giggles crashing into each other in their haste.  

“You are so, so weird.”  There’s a tenderness in your voice that he’d like to live in.  It wraps him up like a hug, tugging at his feeble little heartstrings. 

“Weird and hot.”

“You can’t just say that!”

“Why not?”  If anything, you’re the one person he can say it to.  With you, it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made.  It’s playful and silly, with no rhyme or reason.  He doesn’t have to worry about it being misconstrued or held against him. 

“You just can’t!  Only other people can say it.”  You sigh dramatically, from your chest.  “Do I have to teach you everything?”

“Everything but being healthy, probably.” 

“Har har har.”  

He can tell by how the words roll off your tongue, muffled and lacking clarity, that you’re eating.  He wonders if you’ve made pancakes - you’d been complaining about craving them just two days ago.  There are no tell-tale crunching or slurping, so he knows it isn’t your usual double whammy combo of ramyeon and Choco Boys.  

“I’ll have you know I used to run.”  Something about the way you say it makes him believe you, even though he wants to mock you a little more.  

“In gym class doesn’t count.”

“I used to run with Natto, you ass!”  Okay - so that actually sounded legitimate.

“Why don’t you still then?”

“There was an incident once.”  You’re sipping on something - likely coffee with oat milk and two pumps of hazelnut syrup.  It doesn’t matter that it’s dinner time and most people would be winding down for the evening.  “Because of my insomnia, I’d run at odd hours.  One day, some weirdo stopped me while I was running along the river.  He didn’t hurt me or anything—”  A part of him thinks you’re downplaying it but he says nothing, only waiting for you to continue.  “—but he followed me home.  I made the mistake of telling my parents and they freaked out so…” 

“So no more running by yourself.” 

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d run with you.”  It doesn’t mean much, but it’s the thought that counts.  

“Thanks, Jay.”  

Not for the first time, he wishes he could hear his name - his real name.  Just once.

“JUNGKOOOOOOOOOOK.”  It eats up every ounce of space of the gym, filling the room with the resounding boom of it.  How it manages to be so loud, he’s not sure.  He wishes it weren’t.  There’s no way you haven’t heard it.  

Especially not when it comes again, deafening even to his occupied ears. 

“JUNGKOOOOK-AH!”  Namjoon now, right as the double doors fly open.

Jimin’s barreling toward the alarmed maknae as he shouts.  “WE’RE DOING A VLIVE!”

Jungkook feels like his insides are melting  - his internal temperature spiking with embarrassment and worry and something that chants oh no! over and over in his head.  The tops of his ears are burning, as is the column of his throat.  A quick glance in the mirror confirms his suspicion that he is, indeed, bright tomato red.

“Jay?”  You repeat once, twice, when he doesn’t immediately answer.  “Everything okay?”

He moves with a speed he doesn’t expect, weights unceremoniously dropped on either side of him before he’s tearing his AirPods out.  “I’ve got to go. Sorry!”

He doesn’t end the Discord call a moment too soon, Jimin upon him in the next instant.  The smaller dancer is draping himself across Jungkook’s shoulders, the widest shit-eating grin on his pretty face.

“Want to join us for a VLive?”  

“No.  I’m busy.”  

“Busy with your girlfriend?”  Jimin’s wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  He only stops when Jungkook shifts aggressively, tearing himself out from underneath the other.  

“Not my girlfriend!”  

“But you wish she was!”  

He can’t deny that, so he doesn’t bother, instead seizing his discarded weights with an embarrassed scowl permanently etched into the planes of his face.  He’s reracking them - because god, he’s not an animal - when he notices Jimin making his departure, that teasing smile replaced with something soft and edging on concern.

“What’re you going to do when we’re on tour?”

Jungkook blanches then.  You’d become such an undeniable part of his everyday life that he hadn’t even considered what it’d mean when he was busier than now, unable to spend late nights gaming with you. 

But Jimn’s already gone, leaving him and his thoughts alone.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Friday, 27 March, 2020.  12:05 AM. 

It’s close to midnight by the team he logs on.  Realistically, he should go to sleep.  He’s clean and worn out and his bed is calling to him like a siren at sea.  But you’re sitting alone in the channel, streaming Overwatch for no one to see, and he can’t just leave it at that.

He needs to say goodnight, like he always does. 

“Coming for my title as Headshot God?”   The quip’s off his tongue before you have a chance to acknowledge him, your laughter the first thing he hears once he’s connected.

“I’ve been waiting in this queue for seven minutes.  Seven!”  

It’s really not that bad.  The rare times you’d both queue for DPS were nearly double that.  

“Patience is key,”  he teases, slumping into his chair as he watches you click through your Hero Gallery.  You’re cruising seemingly aimlessly, roving through the different skins for your mains (Mercy, Ana, Genji, Ashe).  The silence between you is comfortable, interspersed only by the occasional munching he can only assume comes from the carrots you seem to inhale.

For all the junk you ate, you were somehow also weirdly into vegetables.  

“Patience sucks,”  you retort, matter-of-fact. 

“You know what else sucks?”  

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows you know, but because you’re you, you start listing things off just to get under his skin.  “Spiders?  Undercooked samgyupsal?  Not having coffee?  Your jokes?”

If he weren’t laughing so hard, he might’ve given you shit for making fun of his comedic genius.  He really doesn’t understand how you think he’s the unfunny one when all you do is crack puns.  

“I was actually going to say me,”  he finally manages in between those high pitched cackles of his.  

“Wait, why?”  You’re used to him having witty comebacks.

Edge of enamel worries his bottom lip and Jungkook can taste cherry Chapstick and what would be bashfulness, if it had a flavour.  “For earlier.”

You scoff, your own tinkling laughter tearing him out from inside his own head.

“It’s okay, goofball.”

He appreciates how laidback you are, never holding anything against him.  Not even when he hangs up on you or accidentally spams you with memes when you’re trying (and failing) to sleep.  “No.  I’m sorry.”  He says it earnestly, with all the meaning he can muster.  

MATCH FOUND flickers across his and your screen and you’re loading into hero selection.  He knows you’ll be too distracted once the game starts, so he’s grateful when you laugh again, sweet as summer.  

“Nothing to be sorry about.  Just tell me everything’s okay and we’re even.”  

Inhale, exhale.  Try not to tell her you have the biggest, stupidest crush on her,  he tells himself. 

“Everything’s okay.”  And he means it when he says it, though they aren’t the words he wishes he could say.  

“Good.”  

You’ve chosen Genji,  He smiles to himself when you join voice chat and the rest follow, greetings filtering in from your team members.  

“Good luck.”  You don’t need it.  He still likes to say it.

“You have an early day tomorrow, right?”  Leave it to you to remember his schedule even when he doesn’t.  

“Yeah, pretty early.”  

“Then go to bed!  I’ll still be awake when you’re up.”  

He lingers on that fact - holds it tightly in his hands so it can’t slip away.  You’d be there in the morning, just like you always were.  Knowing that stirs those same butterflies in his chest, words stolen by the overzealous beating of their wings.

You read his silence like they’re your own thoughts,  “I’m always here for you, Jay.”  

“Goodnight.”

"Sleep sweet."

notes.  this chapter is set four-ish months following the first, in case that’s not clear.  :) 

tag list.  @teawithbucky​ 

#heartsforbts #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #magicshopnet #bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook smut #work.zip #angels.doc #jungkook.doc

[candyfruit]

Barrier (Idia x F! s/o)

It was a quiet and peaceful day, you and Idia were at his dorm room, as usual, watching some anime you recommended. Ortho was helping professor Vargas with some injured students since the boy has some medical assistance his older brother programed into him. So you were alone.

Normally, Idia would freaked the fuck out to be in the same room alone with someone, specially someone he is crushing so hard on. But you guys are so used to do this, since you two met, Idia gradually starts inviting you to his room to play some games or watch something. Ortho really appreciate your company, you two make the sunshine combo that warms the poor shy guy's heart. So your presence was now a common and good thing in his life.

As the episode goes, you star to really paying attention to it, it was one of your favorite anime so total focus was essencial. Idia was extremely focused as well, eyes almost never blinking as he bit his blue tinted lips unconsciously. As the climax of the show goes on, you felt that excitement that always come when you watch it no matter how many times, as for him, he gasped and you could feel how static he was as he mumbled how amazing that episode was.

Both of you decided to continue the show later and eat something (in his room, of course). As the nice person you are, standing up to snatch some candy for him, Idia starts admiring you without noticing. How you move, how you tuck some strands of hair behind your ear, just how you are so peaceful but at the same time so fierce sometimes. God help him when he starts to daydream about you, all the memories you've made and all the possibilities the future holds really weights in his chest. Is it anxiety? But it feels good... maybe is hope and excitement? What are you doing with this man?

"Hey Idia, something happen?" you asked softly to not startle him. "W-w-what? O-oh it's really nothing. I... just the sick feeling to have class with Mr. Cater tomorrow" He was almost proud he came with an excuse and a side joke in the same phrase. You giggled, which made him more flustered "aw don't say that, he is just wants to be friendly." "T-that's the issue... if he could just leave me alone, I could like him more." "Hey, I know he gives you a hard time sometimes but look at the bright side! With him, your insecurity with being hated from everyone is proved false" You grinned.

With that, Idia reminded all the times you helped him with his fears, anxiety and depressed thoughts. He couldn't understand how someone whom excitement was similar as Mr. Kalim would tag along with a shut in like him. It kind of annoyed him at first, he tried to push you away and you noticed his discomfort and backed away immediately, for his relief but also... disappointment? Sometimes the guy doesn't even understand himself.

---

However one day, and he could still feel the guilt crept back in his mind, he saw you crying in secret in a isolated section in the library. Frozen in place, the blue haired guy just kept staring at you. Of course, everyone has a bad day and the right to be sad, but see you in such a state was somehow wrong. I mean, you are Mrs. Cheerful!! The way you looked so hurt and at the same time so used to this feeling was something Idia would never imagined to see. He didn't realize at how long he was staring at you (and later he found out it's an effect you have on him), until the same girl flinched at his presence, wiping furiously the tears away as you apologize for the situation and offering a weak smile.

That broke his heart

He immediately tried to excuse himself and at the same time saying it's okay and he should be the one apologizing for being such a creep, resulting in a stuttering mess. Okay, now you definitely think he is a weirdo, a low life scumbag. Whatever, he was used to this. But you just started giggling softly.

"I am not laughing at you, it's just funny... Oh, you need some book in specific? Sorry... I am troubling you again right? I shall leave now" "Wait!" Idia exclaimed, cursing himself mentally, how is he supposed to handle a conversation HE started. "Um... I mean..." Taking out his tablet, with that the guy could speak some proper words. "You are not troubling me I was just surprised. I should leave n-" "Whoa! How can you type so fast?? And the voice is so smooth!! It's like, so real!" "Hm?" "Lilia told me Ignihyde was famous for the crazy technology you guys do, but seeing in real life is just amazing!"

Did she was impressed by a voice synthesizer? There is such a variety of "crazy technology" his dorm has made, the voice synthesizer was merely child's play in his perspective.

"Um, yes. Actually this is one of the versions I made for myself. For my little brother I add the ability to sing as well." Oh no... He was getting into the conversation "Really? That's so cool! It's like a vocaloid... right?" You asked shyly Hold on, hold on, did you just said vocaloid? And you mention it in front of the biggest otaku NRC has ever admitted? Idia's eyes lit up as he grinned. "So you know vocaloids!? You can say something like that, well I mean  there's a lot of difference compared to the softwares and even the quality of the sound. I tried to do Ortho's voice as smooth as possible, specially with the high notes he mentioned to me, it was a little troublesome but fun nonetheless. Ah the world of artificial voices is so vast, I could even build-"

It was that moment that Idia knew - He fucked up

He talked too much, and now that potencial friend was weirded out by his passion. He could really blame you? Anyone in their right mind would be. He should just go to his dorm and sulk for the day.

"Hm? What happened? Are you okay?" "AH! It was nothing, sorry... I just get carried away with the subject" "Yeah! And it was so cool! I would really love to see some of your work, for real!" "W-w-what?"  he was so caught off guard he even said out loud instead of using the device "Oh... I didn't mean to intrude or anything. You don't have to show it. I was just really into in what you were saying."

Back with his tablet, Idia invited his "new friend" to see some projects he has in his room. Of course, the meeting was online, but you didn't mind. You truly understand his anxiety since you have some troubles with yourself. Troubles he did asked some months after you met. You now was his sunshine, his player-2, even if those nicknames were a secret. 

A secret he will never have the courage to tell. And so he believed.

---

Back at the current situation, you sit back on his bed and handed him the candy. as both bodies were almost touching, Idia was far away in his own thoughts, he remembered when you told about your insecurities, how your mind just screams how worthless you really are, of how many time the thought about death was endearing. His chest was heavy as he pictured the hot tears falling from your beautiful eyes.

"I didn't mean to ruin the mood, sorry... We can go back to the game again."

That sentence just filled him with dread.

So many times you helped him with HIS insecurities and anxiety attacks. You were the first person, aside his family, to really give a try to understand his weirdness.

"I-I-I..." "Or maybe I overwhelmed you with all this. You have your problems, I don't want to trouble you with my nonsense" "Stop it!"

Your eyes widen at the sudden exclamation.

"Don't you ever say that again to me. How can your problems be nothing more than nonsense? Are serious? I wish I could be as strong as you! Not only you try your best to be a decent person in this godforsaken school, but you have the guts to open your heart like that!"

As your whole body frozen in shock at how he spoke those words without the aid of his tablet.

"Idia..." tears still falling down but your face lit up little by little "thank you so much"

He wants to hug you, but he knew he'd just make a fuss and ruin the mood. You respected that, after all it was already warm in your heart. And after that incident, you grew closer to one another, Idia taught you how to play some games so you two could spend the day playing together. Ortho was so happy now his big bro found someone who makes everything interesting, he could almost not contain his happiness when you invited him to play at the courtyard, he could hug you all day. You were really his big bro's sunshine.

"Hey?" You called softly, a little concern with the blue haired guy lost gaze "Oh! Yeah! Sorry, I spaced out...again" "Hmmmm, hope it is not about how the show is going to end. You sir are too good to get yourself a spoiler." "Heh, in other words, I am pretty smart" Idia teased, he really loved at how he can be playfully confident. You didn't judge him so he felt more at ease to be himself. "Don't get too cocky Mr. Shroud" you teased back

Maybe onde day, Idia will say those words he so much want to tell you. Who knows, step by step. As your "friendship" grows, his fears will fade away eventually.

#idia #idia x reader #twst #twst idia #idia shroud #twisted wonderland #sorry yall #i dont know how to write #but yeah #hope you enjoy

[saebyeog-i]

bitter brews (i) | syh

“Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.””

genre | not quite a coffeeshop!au, (mild)slow burn, this thought about being an adversaries to lovers fic for six minutes

rating/warnings | a stupid amount of exposition about coffee plants, catch me throwing in the random recipes that have been my go-to for cooking during quarantine, is this angsty?, discussions of mental health issues {see tags for details}, overall mature content/themes {foul language, alcohol consumption, references & discussion of masturbation, awkward boners, future smut}, some soft moments, and some good ol’ tooth rotting waxing poetic nonsense fluff. Don’t expect too much out of this I just got tired of editing this part so I’m finally posting it.

word count | 19.6k (I meant for this to be a super long one-shot but it’s turning into a story in parts for the sake of ratings w h o o p s)

pairing | Johnny Seo x fem reader

writing playlist | Egotistic - Mamamoo, Black Swan - BTS, Sober - HYO, I Blame On You - Taeyeon, Heartbeat - BTS, Close to Me (Red Velvet Remix) - Ellie Goulding feat. Red Velvet

—

“So, what you mean to say is… you’re not coming? Like, at all?”

The bright yellow plastic of the rotary phone was slightly cool against your overheating skin, which was constantly veiled in a thin layer of sweat whenever you stayed on the farm property instead of the main house on the opposite side of the island. It was the first week of May, which meant it was already humid again. If it wasn’t the time for the daily afternoon rain showers, it might as well have felt like it was raining with how saturated the air was.

“I’m sorry, Bean, I just can’t get on a plane right now. I thought it would be fine it we stretched out the time between flights, but all my doctors are saying I need to just stay here between now and the birth, so…”

Your sister’s voice trailed off and you had to wait for a moment to be sure it wasn’t the poor reception for the phone call running across the four thousand miles that separated you— the four thousand miles that would continue to separate you for the rest of the summer.

You exhaled and twirled the aged spiral phone cord that could barely hold its shape around your index finger, staring at the concrete floor and scrunching your toes. “Well, I’m already here, obviously… do you… you want me to stay here then? Take care of stuff?” You asked hesitantly, already having a feeling of what the answer would be.

A crackly sigh of relief came through the other line. “Little Bean, you are the best, Yunho was worried about asking you to stay and man the farm for the summer harvest but I knew you would just offer! You’re the best like that, you know?” You gritted your teeth and forced a smile through, even though no one was there to witness it. “Okay, so we’ll ship out the supplies in the next few days. Yunho is gonna email you a list of delivery dates of materials for the projects he had planned for the summer and a few contractor contacts…”

Her voice warbled on, and you could only nod your head and vocalize an ‘mhmm’ every so often, listening to her rattle off instructions and information that you knew would be sent in an email too. You’d been looking forward to spending the summer with her— you hadn’t gotten a proper chance to visit for more than a weekend since she and Yunho had gotten married about two years ago— but it turned out this wouldn’t be it. You couldn’t blame her though; she was approaching the third trimester of her pregnancy. You’d do anything for her, even this, even isolating yourself on a farm for four months. Alone.

Not exactly the leave of absence you’d been hoping for from work, but it would have to do.

✧ ✧ ✧

This was supposed to be a vacation. A break. Some much needed time off, away from your job, your career, and your “normal” life. You told yourself over and over again you were looking forward to it. And besides, it would all be worth it, because of all the time you’d get to spend with your sister after so long.

And then she had to betray you by going and getting fucking knocked up, with twins no less.

Fucking happily married couples with their god damn healthy ass sex lives and family planning and wanting to raise children. What the fuck was that all about?

It had been so long since your last vacation. Years, in fact. So long, you had over two months of paid time off accrued at work, and back at New Years you’d made the preliminary plans to spend a month on the farm in Hawaii with her, bonding and just relaxing. Sure, it would require some manual labor for the business here and there, but mostly just to rest.

What a joke that turned out to be.

The farm in Hawaii. You know, the coffee farm your brother in law bought four years ago on a dare from your sister, because he said he could totally pull it off as a side hustle, and she said he wouldn’t be able to? Yeah, that one. Fast forward to today and the side hustle became a full fledged passion that roped in a good amount of the family into the business. Siblings, cousins, parents, all involved in different aspects of package design, social media marketing, distribution and wholesale— everyone except you, who stuck with your soul sucking job in advertising, the same industry your brother in law had since left behind.

The farm and roasting wasn’t an overnight success by any means, but in the last year the brand had really taken off in the craft coffee scene. After all, Kona coffee was well sought after, and one could only claim the name ‘Kona’ if it was grown on the same two thousand or so acres of land on Hawaii’s big island. You know, the same area of land you were living on for the remainder of the summer?

Right. The whole summer.

It was just supposed to be the month of May. And then it turned into May and some of June, when you’d asked your sister to make more concrete plans, and she kept brushing it off. And then the week before you actually got off the plane, you hadn’t booked the return ticket, because you were still waiting for her answer. And then the phone call, and now, this was… indefinite? No, that was being too dramatic; if anything, it would be up through the birth. Based on the number of projects Yunho had planned for the farm, through the remainder of the summer was how long everything would take. Just you and a little over five acres of land and the summer heat. The thought of an extended isolation had your breath catching in your throat, but the last thing you wanted to do was complain or call for help. Stubborn and proud, you wouldn’t have made the offer to stay if you didn’t mean it, if you didn’t think you could handle it. There was no way you were backing out now.

When Yunho had first bought the farm, it had been a rough first few years of refining the coffee plants that had been on the land and uncared for for a number of years, but the last two summers had provided a steady increase in the harvest yield. There was a small farmhouse on the property, with two small bedrooms, a shower, and a small kitchen and living area. A few miles down the coast was the nicer, newer condo that the business had bought, a multi-bedroom unit with some better amenities for when more of your family wanted to visit. It felt weird spending time there— it was too nice, too clean, and quite frankly you had enough to keep yourself busy with on the farm property, you’d rather not have to spend time driving back and forth every day. So you opted to spend most of your nights sleeping here, even though it meant only ceiling fans and no air conditioning.

The farmhouse had very shitty, very limited wifi and a grand total of three electrical outlets outside of what was used to power the oven and refrigerator. One of those outlets was, of course, dedicated to an espresso machine on the kitchen counter, which you had gotten acquainted with over the last two weeks. It was an older model and a little temperamental (the one at the condo was much nicer), but it was still from a decent manufacturer, and you could still use it to pulled a decent shot.

Most of the time you worked in silence, and most of the time you were never too aware of how much time had passed, other than when the sun went down and it was suddenly dark out. You weren’t always this absent minded, you swore— maybe it was a byproduct of being alone for so long—

A loud, high pitched whine filled your ears, followed by some scratching at the door that lead to the lanai outside. You sighed, standing up from the kitchen table and walking over to face the monster that had made it.

“What? What do you want now?”

Staring back at you from the the other side of the screen door was what you’d affectionally referred to as The Thirty-Three Pound Menace— the medium sized stray dog that your brother-in-law so conveniently forgot to mention had been living on the farm for the last few months. It had been waiting outside the farmhouse when you first arrived, and you’d learned from the neighbors that Yunho had taken a liking to the stray and had arranged for them to feed it in his absence. But now that you were here, taking care of the dog was added to your list of daily chores. It seemed to not want to leave the farm property unless actively accompanied by you, with the assurance that you’d be bringing it back with you.

With a roll of your eyes you hip checked the door open just enough to let the dog inside the house. It circled you several times, sniffing at your knees before sitting and panting, staring up at you expectantly. In the two weeks you’d been here, the majority of your conversations were between you and this, a being that couldn’t talk back. Maybe you liked it that way. “What, dinner? Fine, fine,” you grumbled, shuffling to the cabinet and pulling out a can of wet food.

Your meals had consisted of relatively simple dishes, but today you were cranky at the confirmation that your summer was not going to go as planned. Tonight’s dinner featured a bowl of cereal and a coffee mug full of cold white wine.

You ate in silence. You drank in silence. The only noise came from the hum of the ceiling fan overhead, and the occasional sound of the dog, cleaning its paws and laying by your feet protectively. Why it seemed so determined to win over your affection, you had no idea.

After sitting in silence with only your thoughts and the now sleeping dog to keep you company for what felt like hours and downing a second mug full of wine, you found yourself letting out a loud yell, startling the dog and waking it. In a fury, you pulled out the laptop you had for the sole purpose of checking once a day for emails from Yunho and connected it to the shitty, sub-par wifi with just enough patience to navigate to an airline’s website and search flights back to the states. You were looking for the cheapest, most reasonable one you could find. After all of five minutes of research and a quick round on mental math, you clicked on a date and hit the ‘book now’ button before you could second guess yourself, slamming the computer shut once the payment went through and shoving it away from you across the table.

“September 10th,” you grumbled out loud for only you and the dog to hear. Standing from the chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor, you crossed the room and stopped in front of the wall calendar your sister had put up the last time she’d visited the farm just after New Years. You lifted a few pages and flipped forward to the month of September. Red marker in hand, you found the date and circled it rather aggressively, several times over. You looked down at the dog, watching you patiently with its head tilted. “You got that? I’m getting off this fucking island on September 10th.”

✧ ✧ ✧

The day your life fell apart came twelve days later just before nine in the morning.

Mondays were the delivery day, that’s what Yunho had laid out in his instructional emails to you. Your only source of personal transportation was an older jeep, one you didn’t enjoy driving, given that it had no top and needed some mechanical work done. So you’d made arrangements and had your groceries delivered on Monday mornings, buying mostly direct from another farm on the other side of the island, and they were always kind enough to act as the courier for whatever additional miscellaneous supplies you’d request, regardless of where they’d have to go to procure them.

There was a winding driveway that lead up to the house from the main road, and a larger, wider drive up a less steep hillside for larger vehicles for delivery. You were fully expecting the truck that lumbered up the delivery road and came to a stop just outside the barn which housed the massive coffee roaster and stored most of the processed green beans from harvest. Even though it had only been three weeks, there was a routine that had slowly been settling into place: the sound of the truck coming to a stop riled up the dog, the dog came running from wherever and started barking, you’d get your groceries and any other assorted items, the dog would get a treat because your delivery boy had a soft spot for the creature, and you’d pay for your goods. “Hey Jin,” you called out over the barking from the front of the barn, hands currently full with a sack of processed coffee beans you’d hoisted over your shoulder. “You can just leave the groceries on the porch, I’ll put them inside in a few. Did you manage to get me the bags of fertilizer and some wood stakes?” A loud thud sounded as you dropped the bag to its resting place on the concrete floor.

“I mean, I can go put these inside if that’s easier. And yeah, there’s ten bags to get us started, we can have more delivered next week if you still need ‘em.”

You whipped around to face whoever had just spoken, because that voice was most certainly not Jin.

He was tall like Jin, had wide shoulders like Jin, and his hair was kept just a bit long and looked ridiculously shiny and soft and like you could run your fingers through it like Jin’s. It was a lighter brown with some honeyed highlights running through it, compared to the dark brown almost black of Jin’s. You tensed, seeing him carrying a brown paper bag with a loaf of bread and the leafy green tops of carrots sticking out the top. He wasn’t looking at you, rather, he was far too occupied with bending down slightly and scratching behind the ear of the dog who was currently whining and wagging its tail at his feet. Some guard dog it was.

Without a second thought, you reached for the first sharp object you could find, which happened to be the box cutter you used to cut open the burlap bags the beans came back from the processing plant in. “You’re not Jin,” you said tersely, holding the utility knife by your hip defensively.

“Chill out killer, he’s harmless,” a more familiar voice called. Seokjin, your regular delivery driver whose family owned the farm you bought directly from, came into view carrying another two bags of produce and a small pile of envelopes. “Picked up your mail on my way up, the box was practically overflowing. Do you ever check that thing?” You’d first met Jin two years ago when you’d come to visit your sister and Yunho for a long weekend. He’d become a good friend of Yunho’s and was one of the people who would take turns feeding the dog when no one else was here.

Ignoring the unknown man, you relaxed your shoulders slightly and placed the knife down on the table behind you. “Thanks,” you grumbled, taking the small pile of letters from him. Admittedly, you hadn’t checked the mailbox since the day after you’d arrived on the farm, mostly out of sloth and spite. You sifted through the letters— mostly junk mail, with a few bills and notices relating to the business. You put those in front so you could look through them later, when you’d finished the physical work for the day. You tore one envelope open in particular when you noticed it was addressed directly to you and had your sister and Yunho’s Illinois address in the upper corner. It was a letter postmarked from two weeks ago, which struck you as odd, because what the hell would he bother writing in a letter that he couldn’t just send you in an email or a text or a phone call? You started reading aloud softly to yourself.

“‘My Dearest Bean… First of all I want to apologize for the change in plans, but with your sister’s condition her doctors just don’t recommend her traveling,’ God, he’s so dramatic she’s not terminally ill she’s just pregnant. Blah blah blah, I don’t care, you’re full of absolute shite, Yunho,” you began skimming through his lengthy pre amble, looking for the purpose behind the note. Without reading the middle you flipped the stationary paper over to see his handwriting covered the entire back of the page, too. “God, he’s so long winded. Oh, here we go, the very end— ‘I promise we’ll make it up to you, thank you for running the farm and taking care of Puppy, please be nice to Johnny and treat him well, he seems like a good kid.” You stared at the words written on the paper and looked up at Jin. “Who the fuck is Johnny?”

The man next to him cleared his throat and held his hand up. “Johnny! I’m uh, that’s me. You must be _____— I’ve heard a lot about you from Yunho! I’m Johnny Seo, it’s nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, reaching a hand out.

You eyed it but made no move to reciprocate the action. “Cool. You know Yunho. Lots of people know Yunho, he’s a huge fucking flirt, social butterfly of the century, the man never shuts up. Why should I be nice to you?”

He shifted on his feet and his outstretched hand retreated. “Oh. Uh. I’m uh, here for the summer,” he explained, sounding almost confused. “Didn’t— didn’t Yunho tell you?”

Your eyes bugged out and you looked over to Jin. “Jin who the fuck is this and why is he on my farm?” You whispered.

Your friend laughed. “You read the end of Yunho’s letter. I’m sure if you read the whole thing it would explain more. This is Johnny, and he’s here for the summer. He’s gonna help you out! I know the list of all the projects you need to finish this summer is lengthy, and plus look at the guy, he’s jacked! You could use the muscle for manual labor. More work for him, less for you, right? And look, the poor dog you refuse to give a name to even likes him!” Jin gestured comically at Johnny. You looked over, sizing him up some— Jin wasn’t wrong. The stranger was muscular on top of being tall, and under the capped sleeves of his tee shirt you saw his arms that looked the size of your head. The dog was still circling him, sniffing and begging for attention.

Johnny tried smiling again. “Yunho mentioned there was a lot of construction type work to do. I uh, had nothing else planned so he said I could stay on the farm for the summer and work in exchange for food and a place to sleep. I take it he uh, didn’t run that by you first, did he?”

Your grip on the papers in hand tightened and you felt your jaw tense involuntarily. “No, he managed to not mention that once to me. How did you even get here?” You hissed back.

“I picked him up at the airport this morning,” Jin answered calmly, “Yunho gave me a buzz a few days ago to ask if I could bring him here with this week’s groceries.”

“So he managed to arrange for him to get on a plane and secure transportation to the farm but couldn’t be bothered to call me and let me know?”

Jin only laughed, his eyes crinkling. “I’m pretty sure he knows you well enough by now to know that this would have been your reaction whatever way he told you.” Despite the kinship you’d felt growing between the two of you, Jin was Yunho’s friend first, and it only made sense that his allegiance would be to him first. Of course he’d side with Yunho on this matter. “And yes, like Johnny said I did bring a bundle of plant stakes and ten bags of fertilizer— they’re in the back of the truck bed.”

“Oh, I could get those—” Johnny started, moving to step towards the truck.

You could barely think straight. First they bailed on you unexpectedly to spend the summer on the farm alone. That was fine— you’d gotten that through your head, and had come to terms with that. But suddenly springing a plus one on you, without your consent? Absolutely the fuck not.

“Yeah. Don’t need help. Thanks,” you spat, grabbing the bags of groceries from him and brushing past, stomping your way back to the farmhouse.

Johnny stood frozen for a moment before stammering, looking from Jin to your retreating figure and back again. “I should— I should talk to her, right? Or do I—”

“Whoa, don’t think too hard there handsome, I can smell wood burning. Don’t stress about it. She’s just a little… touchy. Let me talk to her,” Jin patted Johnny on the back before heading up the path to the farmhouse after you.

You’d stormed into the house and slammed the groceries down on the counter and let out a screech of rage before picking up the receiver of the yellow rotary phone and dialing. Tapping you foot incessantly, you waited as it rang.

“He-llo~?” The singsong voice that came through the other end was far too amused with itself, more so than usual, and that’s how you knew he knew why you were calling.

“Jung Yunho you better be thankful you knocked up my sister because if it weren’t for the babies in her womb I would fly myself across the Pacific and flay you alive,” you seethed through gritted teeth.

In true unbothered fashion, your brother in law only laughed at your threat. “Ah, so I take it your employee has arrived safely! I’ll have to thank Seokjin for getting him from the airport. Can you give the Kims a pound of the special medium roast as a token of my gratitude?”

“No!” You yelled back, “No! I will not! I’m already beyond frustrated that I’m on this island alone for the entire summer, I’m doing this as a favor because we’re family! I’m not your slave, Yunho! Where was my warning, huh? When were you going to ask if I was okay with you sending some stranger to live in the same house as me, huh?!”

The familiar ache in your chest started to swell, and breathing became difficult. ‘Not now,’ you thought bitterly, ‘Please not right now-’

You curled your free hand into a fist and pressed your nails into your palm, hard, grounding yourself. Yunho’s voice on the phone blurred out and by the time his words started making sense again, you’d already missed what he’d been saying. “I’m not saying you have to like the kid, just show him some hospitality, yeah? You just said it yourself, you didn’t want to be alone this summer, and now you won’t be. I know you’re a good cook so that’s why I told him food would be included. Don’t worry, I’ve already sent some pre-payments to the Kims, so your grocery orders are doubled for the rest of the summer.” His voice went quiet for a second. You rubbed at your temple in frustration, squinting your eyes shut and forcing the mere thought of tears deep back into the recesses of your brain. “Bean? You still there?”

“Don’t get all pretend concerned, Yunho. And stop using my childhood nickname any time you want something from me.” Your voice was quieter now, the intensity of your emotions subsiding, but the betrayal you felt still running strong. “Fine. I’ll tolerate him. But there better be a case of wine in next week’s groceries to make this bearable.”

“Done and done! You’re gonna love him Bean, he’s really great. He’ll be good company.” The continued use of your childhood nickname from anyone other than your sister always gave you pause.

“I said tolerate not befriend. There’s a difference,” you clarified quickly. A knock at the door startled you, and you jumped and looked to see Jin standing by the front door, a roll of wooden stakes under his arm. You rolled your eyes and waved your arm to shoo him away, pointing at the phone pressed to your ear. “Look, Yunho, I don’t know what you’re hoping to see me get out of this, but if he drives me insane I can’t promise that he’ll walk away from this unscathed.”

His laugh echoed through the receiver and reverberated against your skin. “I just think it would do you some good to have some human interaction, that’s all. Your sister too. She says hi, by the way,” he added softly, “And so do the little ones.”

You scoffed. Yunho always brought up your sister as a way of diffusing your temper. He knew it would always work. “They’re still in embryonic fluid, they can’t talk and they certainly don’t have cognitive function.” Sometimes you wondered if even Yunho had that with the wild ideas that went through his mind.

“Ever the romantic, you are. You know, soon they’ll be able to think! And they’ll be thinking of their favorite auntie, and how much they can’t wait to meet her! So she can’t be arrested for murder between now and when they’re born, because babies can’t go to prison!”

“I’m telling your sister you said that,” you challenged. With an exhale, you did your best to let go of the frustration and tension inside and politely ended the phone call. You were trying to clear your head and collect yourself before heading back outside when you heard a yell that sounded all too much like Jin’s voice.

“What fresh hell—” you started, shuffling back outside in the direction of the commotion where you saw Jin, somewhat struggling under the weight of two bags of fertilizer, and Johnny, now with a baseball cap turned backwards on his head, easily hoisting a stack of four bags without slouching.  

Your eyebrow ticked up upon the realization that it was almost seventy pounds that he was slinging around like it was nothing. “Anywhere specific you want these?” He asked innocently, looking up at where you stood on the lanai just outside the door. You almost cursed him out when he blinked at you twice.

You pointed your left arm down the hill, the opposite direction of the way to the barn. “Shed. Next to the vegetable garden.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “And lose the hat. Or at least don’t wear it backwards. Makes you look like an ass.”

Johnny’s mouth hung open for a moment before he hummed and winked. “You got it, Boss! Come on handsome, if you can carry those good looks you can carry some dirt,” he called back to Jin, who was currently grumbling about how manual labor wasn’t a part of his delivery arrangement.

The hairs on your arm stood up on edge as you watched Johnny laugh deeply as he ambled his way in the direction you’d pointed. The thirty three pound menace next to you whined and wagged its tail, panting as it went from watching you to watching Johnny’s retreating figure. You looked down and made eye contact. “If I survive this, I’m going to kill Yunho.”

✧ ✧ ✧

There was no case of wine in the grocery deliveries the following week. The reasoning Yunho gave was that per Jin’s investigation, the liquor stores were all out of your favorite wine, so there was no point in sending you a sub par alternative. It was absolute crap, but you had better things to do than chew out your brother in law over the phone. Took way more energy than it was worth.

So far, Johnny was making good on his word and earning his keep. At first, you’d tried avoiding him as much as possible, intentionally waking up hours ahead of him and starting your day when the sun rose. You never made much noise in the mornings, the loudest thing you did was make coffee, and lately you’d opted for a pour over versus pulling shots of espresso. You weren’t personally one for breakfast, choosing just coffee and maybe a piece of fruit instead. This morning you felt a little hungrier than usual, so you thought you’d get yourself a bowl of cereal. Peering into your pantry, you saw that on the shelf where there had been a stash of cereal boxes, there was now nothing.

“Where the fuck are my cocoa pebbles?” You swore in shock, not realizing you weren’t alone in the kitchen.

“Shit sorry, I ate the last of those yesterday.”

You whirled around to see Johnny, still seemingly half asleep and with some gnarly bedhead, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. His lips were so perfectly pouty, one small part of your brain almost thought he looked cute like this.

But no, he wasn’t cute, he was a thief— he’d stolen all of your cereal stash. “Did you seriously eat through four boxes in a week?” You asked incredulously.

“It was three and a quarter! And yeah I don’t know, I’m always hungry and just one bowl of cereal isn’t filling enough, so I usually have two, or three...” He mumbled, voice trailing off as he rubbed a hand behind his head sheepishly.

You snorted. And then a thought came across you. “Johnny,” you said calmly, the feeling of his name on your tongue foreign and strange. Was this the first time you’d addressed him by name since his arrival? You couldn’t remember. “Do you not know how to cook?”

He hummed thoughtfully for a second. “No-pe!” He popped the p sound in the word. How was he this cheerful, even first thing in the morning? “I mean, I can like, boil water and cook pasta and stuff like that. I think I successfully grilled pork belly once, though it was probably doused in too much oil and too many spices. My college experience was funded almost exclusively on instant dinners and takeout for two years, and then for the second half one of my roommates was an actual chef, so, no one was allowed in the kitchen ‘cept for him.”

“Honestly, I am shocked that you haven’t perished in some tragically strange idiotic accident yet,” you sighed and shuffled to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and a pack of bacon. You grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet under the stove and clicked the burner on, reaching for the oil bottle that lived on the counter top and drizzling some in the pan.

Johnny shuffled closer to inspect what you were doing and let out a gasp of appreciation. “You’re making me eggs and bacon?”

“I’m making me eggs and bacon,” you corrected, “But I guess I’ll make enough for you too,” you said as you peeled the strips off the packaging and placed them into the pan with a sizzle. You reached for a few eggs and cracked four into the pan directly, cocked your head at the amount of food, and then grabbed two more eggs and added them in before taking a fork and scrambling them all together, adding salt and white pepper to the bubbling liquid. You glanced up at Johnny, still watching you, slightly curious. “I don’t trust you. You say you’re an adult but you eat like a teenage boy still. There’s never any leftovers.” After a few minutes you flipped the strips of bacon over and then quickly chopped up a green onion and scraped it onto the scramble just before the eggs finished cooking.

Johnny watched you the whole time, and you felt only slightly uneasy under his gaze. When you turned off the stove after plated your food and stepping away to pour yourself some coffee and he didn’t move, you gestured at the pan in a fashion as if to silently ask him ‘What?’

“Oh!” He gasped out lightly, springing into action and plating the food for himself. You hadn’t bothered to sit down at the table, instead holding the plate in front of you as you leaned against the counter and ate. Johnny followed your lead, taking a bite and groaning audibly in enjoyment at he chewed. He smiled and his eyes shone, almost sparkling. You watched him curiously for a moment before he mumbled out “Your cooking is really good! It uh, reminds me of my mom’s. She’s a great cook.”

You kept your lips tightly shut at the apparent compliment. “It’s just eggs, you weirdo. Finish up and do the dishes. When you’re done meet me by the shed. Today you’re stripping off the old paint and removing any of the rotting boards and disposing of them,” you instructed while placing your empty plate in the sink. His tasks for the day were the next phase in slowly rebuilding the dilapidated shed on the west side of the property to make it useful for storage of all the tools you used to tend to the fruit trees and vegetable garden nearby.

He flashed a smile at you and gave a mock salute. “Aye-aye, captain, I am at your service.”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled, downing more of your coffee before trudging off.

It was going to be a long summer.

✧ ✧ ✧

“I’m telling you Wendy, I’m going to need an alibi, I really am going to murder my brother in law.”

“What, for giving you live-in eye candy for the summer and hinting that he thinks you need to get laid?”

“Ugh, no, that’s not— hold up, you don’t agree with him, do you?”

The sound of your best friend’s laughter through the phone had you dragging your hands over your face and pulling down at your eyelids dramatically, as if she could see your reaction.

On Thursdays, you finished up your work for the day around 4pm so you could pull up a chair next to the rotary phone and make time for the weekly scheduled phone call with Wendy. She’d insisted on the arrangement after you went six days without texting her, which you’d insisted was because service was spotty, but she’d accurately called you out on being cranky and stewing by yourself.

You and Wendy had met during your freshman year of college. By graduation, you’d lived together for three years, and made a vow to move to the same city together post grad, hence why she was still your roommate now— or was, seeing as you were on the island instead of back in the two bedroom apartment you shared. There was a five hour timezone difference between Hawaii and Chicago, so you’d figured out a schedule that worked for both of you. The calls had a tendency to last for several hours, and depending on how much wine you’d drink while on the phone with her would include bathroom breaks and you inevitably swearing at whatever you were cooking for dinner than night.

“Honey, please. I love you. Dearly, and against all other advice, you’re my best friend— but you need to get laid. You haven’t been this tense since our last finals week of senior year. And clearly you’re not opposed to the idea of Eye Candy banging your brains out, otherwise you wouldn’t have described him as, and I quote, ‘dumb hot and stupidly ripped’. When are you gonna send me a photo so I have something better to work with?”  

“Okay but are you sure you’re not the sexually frustrated one here and you’re just trying to live vicariously through me?”

Wendy’s hum sounded through the line. “I mean, can’t we both be desperately horny and in need of getting some? It’s not ideal but it is possible. Plus, I’m not the one that didn’t pack her vibrator—”

You let out a whine interrupting her as you leaned back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass a few times as you held the phone to your ear with your shoulder. “Shut up stop reminding me! I regret it but no I’m not letting you send me a new one, especially not with a guy living with me. Come on, my stories are boring, it’s the same thing every day. I wake up, I feed the dog, I tell him what to do and then I hide away doing my own chores. When are you gonna tell me more about that girl you were seeing— what was her name, Joo-something?”

“Nice try, we’re not changing the subject with my dating life. Seriously, babe, you should just think about it.”

“And what, make it awkward for the rest of the summer? No thanks,” you shot her idea down quickly.

“I’m willing to bet money you’ll cave before the end of the summer. Plus, who doesn’t love a good ol’ summer fling? And who says you ever have to see him again once it’s all over?”

As much as you’d loathe to admit it, Wendy had a bit of a point there. “Cute, but you and I both know I’m too high strung for a temporary fling. Plus, I’m not in the mood to catch feelings right now.”

“If I find a way to replenish your wine supply, would that help?”

You groaned dramatically once more. “Not with the sexual frustration, but with my overall wellbeing, yes, yes it would.”

Wendy squealed on the other end of the phone. “Ha! So you admit it, you are sexually frustrated!”

“Woman, when in the years that you’ve known me have I not been at least some kind of frustrated?” You acknowledged.

Your best friend laughed in agreement, understanding she wasn’t going to get much more out of you about Johnny, and began a lengthy and detailed story about her last three dates with a girl she’d met through a friend of a friend. As you listened to how her voice held a dreamlike quality to it when she talked about her, you couldn’t help the pang of jealousy you felt and a sinking feeling in your gut that you’d been lying through your teeth earlier, and that maybe, subconsciously, you did want to catch feelings.

Maybe.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So… is there a story or a reason why you’re here instead of Yunho?”

You lifted your head from your focused task of sorting out the peaberry beans from the regular beans. It was tedious, time consuming, annoying as all hell, and made you want a drink stiffer than the coffee that you were certain made up more of your body fluids than blood or water did at this point. “Yes,” you said curtly after studying his face for a minute, not providing any further explanation. Johnny had his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, nodding for a moment where he stood in the entrance to the barn.

You had set up your mad scientist level organization for the process all across the concrete floor of the refinished barn. Over the last week, Johnny had finished replacing the boards on the siding of the shed, stained the wood, and sealed it with a protective coat. He even managed to remove all the broken glass from the windows without sustaining any injuries, which you hadn’t thought possible for him. This morning you had him weed the vegetable garden, prune back the hedges along the back side of the house, and clean the deck of the lanai. How did he possibly still have any energy left? He was definitely a harder worker than you’d first given him credit for— you shook your head, not wanting to continue a spiral on Johnny and any detailed thoughts about him.

Back to your task at hand.

The harvest had been divided into several metal basins of five pounds of beans each, and in front of each basin you’d placed two dishes on either side. The point was to be able to weigh how many beans ended up being peaberry from each five pounds of harvest, and to see if you could leverage a steady average from the yield and better plan for how many pounds of the limited roast you could advertise for and set the price per pound accordingly. You wore a face mask and nylon disposable gloves while sorting, and despite being an annoying task, after a while it became a way for you to zone out and let the hours pass by. When the dishes were empty and you first started sorting them, there was a distinct echo of the small beans hitting the metal dish over and over again, until enough beans were lining the bottom that it started to dull the noise.

“Sigh.”

A slight puff of air washed over you. Did he just say the word ‘sigh’ out loud? And was he hovering over your shoulder?

“Can I help you?” You asked, pausing your sorting for only a moment.

“Isn’t it my job to ask you that question? I’m not some layabout, I am trying to earn my keep, you know,” Johnny said in response, rubbing his hands together and eyeing the basin of beans in front of him. You were almost inclined to hand it to him. Over the last four weeks, you’d gotten a lot of decent work out of him, even if you did feel somewhat micro-manage-y half the time with the tasks you did give him. “Okay, how does this work?”

You groaned exaggeratedly and excessively, rolling your eyes. When you didn’t answer, he reached forward and plucked a single coffee bean from the basin and examined it closely. “Hey, this one’s funny looking!”

“Don’t touch them with your bare hands, that’s just going to waste them.” You swatted the bean out of his hand and then looked at your own gloves and sighed. “If you’re insisting on helping, fine. But you need sanitary gear to handle them. Go wash your hands, there’s masks and gloves by the sink,” you grumbled, standing up and taking off your own gloves to dispose of them and replace them with a fresh pair.

Johnny followed obediently, trailing behind you a little too innocently for someone of his size. “Yes, the beans still need to be roasted and that’ll kill any bacteria, but I just like to be extra cautious, okay? Because it’s a mutation there’s no rule to how much of a yield I’ll get with each harvest so I don’t like wasting even a single bean,” you reasoned, settling back down and folding your legs back at the now half-sorted metal bowl.

“So, we’re just sorting the weird ones from the normal ones?” He asked while picking up another peaberry bean, this time with gloved hands and a mask over his mouth and nose.

You took a quick glance and nodded to confirm that yes, the bean in his hand was one of the weird ones he should be looking for. “They’re called peaberry. Normally, a coffee cherry has two seeds in it, or beans. Those two seeds mature in the center of the cherry and you get one flat side and one side touching it. Sometimes people call them ‘flat beans’ but those are the ‘normal’ beans, as you said,” you explained, sifting through your bowl rather quickly. “But the peaberry ones only have one bean inside. The bean is round, so that’s where the name ‘peaberry’ comes from, because—“

“Because it’s round so it looks like a pea, oh I get it! That’s funny,” he laughed, examining the rounded bean in front of him. “Okay, got it, so we’re sorting the peaberry from the flat beans?”

“You proud of your new vocab words?” You snorted, listening for the well known tink of a bean hitting the empty metal bowls. He giggled in acknowledgement.

You worked in relative silence, a small rhythm growing between the two of you. Johnny worked at about half the speed you did, but you couldn’t knock him for it, as it had taken you a while to pick up the pace when you first started hand sorting like this.

“How do you even know Yunho?” You finally asked. Four weeks since he’d arrived, and you’d never bothered to get to know him well enough to listen to the full story of how he’d ended up here.

Johnny shifted in his seated position, clearly a little taken aback that you’d bothered to ask him anything, given your track record. “Oh. Met him in Chicago when I was home visiting. At a local coffee shop, where my buddy Jaehyun is the manager. I went to go bother Jaehyun at work and he was just, shootin’ the shit with one of his coffee suppliers who was doing a visit. That supplier was Yunho. Started talking about how he owned the farm where the beans were grown, and that he wasn’t going to be able to spend the summer out there like he’d planned, so he was looking for some reliable help to uh, take care of things. Mentioned someone else would be on site and in charge, but offered the whole ‘room and board in exchange for copious amounts of physical labor’.”

“And you said yes? Just like that, no questions asked?” It seemed a little too easy, but then again, Johnny had proved to be a little too easygoing.

He shrugged. “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the point of my whole year. Just, go with the flow.” You glanced over, but Johnny was looking down, focused on the task at hand.

You nodded and hummed and turned back to your own basin to continue sorting. A few beats passed by before you couldn’t help yourself— “You’ve said that before. ‘Go with the flow’, or that you ‘had nothing else going on’. What do you mean by that?”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Johnny’s ears perk up, followed by movement of his cheeks implying the curve of a slight smile. “I’m on a gap year, I guess is what the kids would say. Or maybe sabbatical? Though it’s not like I have any tenure enough to qualify for the real meaning of the term. But yeah, anyways— year off from work. Not getting paid or anything, but, when it’s over if I want it, my old job is waiting for me.”

“How come? That seems so—”

“Impulsive?”

You frowned. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he repeated, but not in a mocking manner— it was in agreement. “I guess the best way to explain it is this: I was a huge workaholic. I’ve only had my one job post grad after studying business, and I woke up one morning a month before my twenty-fifth birthday and realized it was sucking the soul out of me. It was all I ate, slept, breathed, and it wasn’t even what I wanted to be doing with my life, I realized.”

His pain started sounding all too familiar. “What is it you wanted to do instead, then?”

Even under the mask covering the lower half of his face, his smile reached his eyes. “Photography. I got into an art school when I was applying to colleges, but it just seemed so… risky. I would’ve had to take out loans and instead I got almost a full ride for a bigger university, so I went for that instead. Studied business, managed to grind through undergrad and grad school in four years and walked out with a combined BS and MBA. Took classes every summer to make it happen. I think after graduation, I went back to my parents house and passed out and slept for twenty-three hours straight,” he laughed, clearly recalling a specific memory. “I felt really accomplished when it was over, and even had the job offer already lined up. But I wish I had had more courage to study what I was truly passionate about.

“So after an almost three year long stint at the company and a vested 401k, I decided to take a year off to just, travel the world a bit. I grinded so hard through college I never got the chance to do study abroad, so I guess I wanted to make up for that? I never used to act on impulse or follow my heart, so, that was the goal for this year. To do only that.”

His words struck you differently. This was a whole new side to Johnny that you really weren’t expecting— not that you had a particularly three dimensional view of him to begin with. “And your heart lead you here… to my brother-in-law’s coffee farm?”

He laughed again, trying to hide just how thrilled he was that you were actually engaging in a full on conversation with him. “Well, sort of. My year off started back in February, day before my birthday. Got on a plane and did a few months backpack trip around Asia. I had no clue what would be next, thought maybe Australia, maybe Europe, but when I got off the plane in Chicago to see my mom and regroup on my packing, I decided to go straight from the airport to surprise and bother Jaehyun at his coffee shop. That day I met Yunho. That was a little over six weeks ago. And now I’m here, with you.”

There was something about the way he said that that didn’t sit well in your stomach— with you, like it was a good thing, like he liked it. You didn’t deign him with a response to the end of his story. Like an extension of the current state of your mind, your hands were reaching, feeling around for something, but you were only met with the flat surface of the bottom of the basin.

You looked down to see the last of the metal bowls was empty. Somehow, you’d managed to sort through all twenty pounds of coffee beans. You pulled the face mask down under your chin as you stared at the metal surface for a moment before standing abruptly and turning on your heels.

Confused, Johnny called your name out after you questioningly. “It’s getting late and I’m hungry. You uh, bag up the peaberry and set it aside and then wash out all the metal trays,” you gave him his next set of tasks quickly to make your escape back to the farmhouse to put some distance between the two of you.

A little over an hour later, you’d put together a curry on the stove with some stew meat and a base that included apples, carrots, potatoes, and melted dark chocolate for a more mellow sweet taste to balance it out. You thought about the first time Johnny complimented your cooking when it was just eggs, and how he’d continued to compliment it with every new meal you’d make. You wouldn’t call yourself a chef by any means, thinking that enjoying your go-to recipes would be a more acquired taste, and were in the midst of serving yourself when Johnny came inside with the dog trailing behind him. You didn’t bother saying much, you never did when you’d finished cooking a meal; just a grunt acknowledging his presence and a head nod at the food before you took your bowl and went through the door to go sit on the lanai by yourself. Absent-mindedly, you whistled for the dog to follow you.

Johnny kept to himself that night, eating at the kitchen table, content with looking up out the bay window to see you hand feeding small chunks of meat from your bowl to the dog, even going so far as to pet its head. He shook his head to himself thinking about how you pretended to be so opposed to the dog, and how you still hadn’t given it a name, and smiled as he took another bite.

✧ ✧ ✧

At five weeks, you stopped watching Johnny like a hawk, and started giving him more lengthy tasks that you, quite frankly, just didn’t want to do yourself. Though, if you were being honest, every task you gave him was one you didn’t want to do yourself.

Such as his current one, which was to prep the ground for a new row of sapling fruit trees. You’d walked down from the farmhouse over the hill to the open area next to a row of lemon and guava trees where you’d set him to the task of digging a row of four foot wide, four foot deep holes. The week after next, Jin’s delivery would be a much larger one, and include a number of sapling fruit trees from his family’s farm— rambutans, limes, and mangos, to name a few. You wanted to make sure the holes got dug and the irrigation system set in place properly well in advance.

When you came to a stop at the end of the row of freshly dug holes in the ground you blinked once. Twice. A third time. The sight before you was impossible to comprehend. Because not only was Johnny finishing digging the last of ten massive holes having taken less than three hours to do so, but he had been digging them shirtless.

“What. What?” You asked, staring, eyes wide and brow furrowed.

“Huh?” He asked, looking up from the bottom of the last hole and swishing his head to get his bangs, matted with sweat against his forehead, out of his face. The sun had crested over to this side of the hill now and it was blisteringly hot out. Standing in direct sunlight, doing physical labor, obviously he’d worked up a sweat.

You had to tear your eyes away from the shine on his torso and return them to just his face. “Where the fuck is your shirt?”

He pointed to where a lump of fabric was off to the side next to a water bottle. “It’s fucking hot out, I was dying,” he reasoned.

“You’re hot,” you mumbled under your breath, turning on your heel to give yourself reprieve from the onslaught that was Johnny’s unexpected number of defined abdominal muscles that were usually covered by cotton t shirts.

“What was that?” He called, squinting up into the sun from the bottom of the hole.

“I said, put a god damn shirt on before you come back in my house,” you called back, already wrapping your arms around yourself and heading back to the farmhouse. “And dinner’ll be ready in twenty, so finish up,” you added, trudging off before he could respond.

What you would have seen if you’d turned back around was an open mouthed smile curl across his face, as Johnny hummed to himself at the joy he felt for this, the first time you’d bothered to warn him when dinner would be ready.

✧ ✧ ✧

Ever since you’d seen Johnny shirtless, you’d be restless.

Well, restless was the polite word. The word to better describe what you’d been feeling was… frustrated?

Distracted? Peeved? Worked up?

Horny.

The word you were avoiding was horny.

Wendy had been the one to get you to admit it during your last weekly phone call. You told her about the shirtless incident and the first thing she asked was if you had plans to throw out the washing machine and instead start doing your laundry on Johnny’s abs, which did not help your predicament any further. It was also Wendy who had pointed out that you’d been alone on this farm for almost two months with a dog and a man too pretty for his own good, and despite how he represented everything you were annoyed at in life at the moment, after seeing his half naked figure, it would only be natural for you to have been a little turned on. And a little turned on was exactly where you were— for the last week, you had been going on runs every night to release the excess pent up energy you suddenly had.

The last time you exercised this much you were still in college. Back then you went on hour long runs through the city with your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ because it was the only way you weren’t constantly bombarded with an on onslaught of messages from classmates, friends, family, or your on campus job that took up way too much of your time. And now, you found yourself returning to old habits, this time because what, you were too proud to just rub one out like the rest of humanity? (That phrasing, too, was courtesy of your best friend, when she again reminded you of your failure to pack your vibrator.)

After another eight miles up and down the road outside the farm that ran along the island’s coast your legs felt like absolute jello when you finished, but your head was empty enough that you were able to return to the property and exist near Johnny in peace. You walked by the barn on your way up to the farmhouse, sticking your head inside briefly to look for him. You didn’t hear any noise, and didn’t find him at first glance, but didn’t think much of it as you went back inside.

The dog was already in the kitchen, so that should have been your first clue. You opened the fridge and peered inside, pulling out a number of assorted ingredients to make a lemon cream sauce for pasta with chicken.

You set a pot of water to boil, turned the oven on to preheat, and began melting butter, garlic, oil, and a variety of herbs in a sauce pan. That plus the low hum of the overhead fan meant just enough noise that you couldn’t hear the water running from the small shower on the other side of the house, and you didn’t think twice as the heat cast off by the appliances made you feel even stuffier post-run, and you peeled your shirt off your body and rolled the waistband of your shorts down an inch, pressing your bare feet flat against the hardwood flooring to try and get some semblance of cooling relief.

It was only a few moments later, with the water boiling and pasta cooking inside and the chicken already seasoned and in the oven, when you peered over the bubbling sauce pan and dipped the edge of your pinky into the mixture to bring just a taste up to your mouth. Just like you’d hoped, it was light and had a kick of citrus to it from the lemon, but not so much that it was overpowering. You closed your eyes and hummed in appreciation as you licked the sauce off, which, in retrospect, probably sounded far too much like a moan for your own good.

“Jesus fuck—”

And suddenly, you realized you weren’t alone inside the house.

You screamed at first from the shock of being startled by the noise, and then again when it registered in your brain that Johnny was standing in the kitchen, hair dripping wet, chest bare and abdominal muscles just as defined as the last time you’d seen them, face flushed in some sort of embarrassment with a bath towel wrapped around his hips.

Johnny was fresh out of the shower, nearly naked in your kitchen, clutching his clothes balled up in his left hand.

You scream again.

“What are you doing?!” You shrieked out, raising your voice over the dog’s excited barking at the commotion the two of you had begun making.

He stammered for a moment, clearly frozen in place. “I was just! You were gone, and I was done for the day, so I took a shower but I— I forgot my change of clothes in my room and these towels are small and just— Jesus why are you wearing so little clothing?!”

Your fury returned full force at the comment. “Why am I wearing so little clothing? You’re in a towel for fuck’s sake! This is my house, I live here! I should be the one asking you where your clothes are!”

“They’re here, in my hand!” He yelled back, waving the bundle around frantically. “I just said I forgot them when I went to shower!”

Your eyes bugged out of you head as your gaze traveled down, taking in the entirety of the figure before you and— oh.

“Are you… are you hard right now?” You asked in bewilderment.

The way the color drained out of Johnny’s face and the speed with which he moved the bundle of clothing to hold it over the space between his legs answered your question.

“Oh, my god.” Exasperated, you slammed your eyes shut and held your hands up by your sides. “What the fuck, John.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— fuck, shit I made it weird— please don’t get mad, I can totally fix this,” he started spewing apologies, and you heard him take two steps closer to you. “Wait, were you looking at my dick?”

“Ah!” You spat out, turning away from him. His question was valid but you had no intention of acknowledging it. “Out! Get out of my house, go… somewhere else until that goes away or you can, I don’t know, take care of it!” You instantly thought of the implication of your words and then yelled again. “No— don’t— fuck, don’t do that! Jesus for the love of god don’t take care of it while I’m standing here—” you were stammering and beyond flustered. How the fuck were you supposed to talk to someone who had just gotten a fucking boner by looking at you, sweaty in a sports bra, while sucking a cream colored substance off the tip of your pinky?

You exhaled deeply, eyes still closed. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go to your room. I am going to finish cooking my dinner. You will be absolutely silent until you hear me leave. I will be staying at the condo for the next week. You will either ration the leftovers or fend for yourself, I do not care. Got it?” You signed out again, eyes flicking open. Johnny held his bundle of clothes in front of his legs and nodded his head once, not bothering with any comeback before he shuffled to the guest room and shut the door quietly.

It took another twenty minutes for the meat to finish cooking and the dish to be full prepared. How you managed to keep your head empty and shut off your internal monologue during that time, you’ll never know, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You packed two servings into a Tupperware container for yourself before shoving some clothes in a duffle bag and grabbing the keys to the jeep you hated driving. It was only about ten minutes down the road to the condo, but it was almost fifteen miles, so you figured this was the lesser of two evils. You whistled for the dog to follow you, and it was all too excited to jump in the passenger seat of the car. The farmhouse was now dry of liquor, what with Yunho not making good on his promise a month ago and your weekly wine dates with Wendy, but you knew the condo definitely had some spirits stashed somewhere in a cabinet. You were going to need that and a nice hot bath to destress after that encounter.

Meanwhile, Johnny sunk down on to the floor inside the guest room, his back pressed against the door. When he heard the sound of the jeep’s engine turning over, he sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair. There were no better words to describe it: he was truly and utterly fucked.

✧ ✧ ✧

You stayed at the condo only for three days, and did little other than sleep, binge watch some TV since there was better electricity and internet here, and eat your way through slightly stale bags of chips and frost bitten freezer dinners that were months old. Because you couldn’t just open the door and let the dog out to run through the property for whatever exercise or bathroom needs it had, you had to actually walk it with a leash and everything. You paid less attention to how domestic the action of clipping the leash on to the collar you’d found in an unopened delivery package on the kitchen table was, and thought more about how slothful you’d felt over the last 60-odd hours of self isolation, especially after two months of working outdoors every day.

It was childish to keep hiding from Johnny. It’s not like you could prove that he’d gotten hard looking at you, and really, shouldn’t you take it as sort of a compliment? (Well, maybe you wouldn’t go that far.)

It was Monday when you returned to the farm, parking the jeep back by the barn and hip checking the door shut after the dog went running off in search of Johnny. It found him carrying pruned branches of trees down to the area where you burned excess brush, and you could hear the excited sound of his voice at the return of the creature as you walked slowly down the hill towards him.

“I missed you! It’s been so lonely without you, but I guess I’m glad your mommy had you with her, huh?” He cooed at the dog, rubbing its face in his hands after dropping the bundle of branches and flopping its ears from side to side. Hearing Johnny refer to you as a mother, even of the animal, had you grimacing.

“Ew,” you said, making your presence known. He stood up suddenly, possibly just a little embarrassed.

“Oh! You’re uh, you’re back.” You nodded, lips pressed together in a flat line. Your hands were full, carrying two takeout coffees from a shop down near the condo you’d stopped at on the way back. You’d forgotten how much the farm felt like a different planet, a different space in time almost, because of how isolated it felt. The act of ordering a coffee to go rather than making it yourself in the morning was equal parts bewildering and soothing.

You had no idea what compelled you to order an iced americano along with the cortado you’d gotten for yourself. You didn’t really know much about Johnny beyond the one conversation you’d had about how he ended up meeting your brother in law and crashing on the farm with you in the first place. But somehow, ordering the drink had felt right, and you thought of it as a potential peace offering to cut the tension.

“This is yours,” you said plainly after some thought, trying to remove any and all emotion from your tone.

He blinked a few times before taking three steps towards you and reaching his hand out to take the drink. He mumbled a soft thank you and sipped without bothering to ask what was inside.

“You’re just going to take the drink a stranger offers you, no questions asked?”

“Ooh!” His eyes perked up when he tasted the coffee. “I mean, I’ve never questioned any of the food you’ve made me so far, why start now? Besides,” he shrugged, taking another sip, “I trust you.”

You snorted. “That’s a stupid thing to do.”

Johnny laughed again, eyes crinkling at the sides. Your mind wandered briefly to a half formed thought about how endearing that was. “Maybe so, but despite your efforts to make me an enemy, I think you’re actually a really good person. You even guessed my favorite coffee drink, so that has to count for something.” He nodded to the paper cup in your hand. “What’s your poison?”

“Cortado,” responded curtly, ignoring his comments that were cutting a bit too deep for ten in the morning.

“Ah, a strong espresso pull with a balance of steam milk and a touch of foam. Nice choice. I can definitely appreciate one, but I’m a little too impatient and drink them too quickly— I think that’s why I love americanos so much, because it lasts a little longer.”

You tilted you head to the side, puzzled. “Wait. You… actually know things about coffee?”

“I mean, yeah,” he laughed, “What do you think I spent three hours talking with Yunho about the day we met? I did my time as a barista in college. Free coffee every shift was hard to pass up when you’re doing almost a double course load every other semester. I’ve always been curious about the growing and roasting process, and I know a lot of people do home roasting as a hobby but I just never made the time to explore it.”

Well, duh, you thought, that actually made sense. “Oh god, and here I’ve been making my lame ass bitter pour over all summer— you know how to pull a shot of espresso then I take it? You’ve seen the La Marzocco on the counter, how come you’ve never used it?”

He pouted his lips out in a flat line and shrugged comically. “Dunno. I mean, I’m a guest and a worker first, and it’s not mine, so, I didn’t wanna make any assumptions. But if this is an open invitation to use it, I’m more than happy to accept.”

You chewed on the inside of your mouth for a moment. You could feel it in the air as the hairs on your arms stood up slightly, goosebumps running down your skin. You hoped in wasn’t too noticeable. Maybe this was it— maybe it really was time to extend an olive branch and have more than half a conversation with him every four days. “It’s a little older and sort of temperamental, but it’s still a good machine. I’ll… show you the quirks tomorrow morning, or whenever you want something to drink,” you offered.

It was then that you discovered this: Johnny was not a great actor. He wore his heart on his sleeve. You figured this to be true because he could barely contain the smile that spread across his face, and the energetic nod he gave, and the mild soft exhale (squeal?) of excitement. You rolled your eyes gently and turned away, drink in hand. “When it cools down later after dinner, I’m roasting tonight. You’re welcome to join.”

You gave him the benefit of not bearing witness to the fist pump he made as you walked away.

Dinner that night was stir fried ground pork with carrots and zucchini from the garden served over rice. It was one of your comfort dishes, easy to make and easy to clean up after, since it used only two pans. As soon as you’d finished eating, this time sitting at the table together with Johnny, he’d cleared the dishes and got to cleaning up right away. You stretched your arms overhead and leaned back in your chair far enough to crack your back slightly with a loud pop.

“Oof, that sounded like it felt good,” he laughed from the sink. You hummed in agreement. “So what’d you do before this? Desk job hunched over a computer like the rest of us?”

“Mmm something like that. You may have been bored out of your mind in business, but I sold my soul years ago to work in advertising.”

“Why does that like, fit?” He asked, turning the water off and drying the pan you’d used for cooking by hand.

“You saying I have no soul?” You challenged.

He shrugged. “Hey, you said it, not me. We’re both just cogs in the machine that is late stage capitalism, I guess.”

You didn’t know how deeply you wanted to get into it with Johnny just yet. Maybe eventually, but, not right now. “Yeah, well, I was just a Project Manager, not like a Copywriter or anything. Did you know Yunho was a staff Art Director before he switched to the coffee business full time? We used to work at the same agency a few years back.”

Johnny snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “Ah, that’s right! I remember him saying something about that, made the same jokes about having no soul. You two are a lot alike for not being related by blood.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong; sometimes you wondered if you’d become closer with Yunho that you were with your sister at this point. “Enough about that. If you’re done follow me, it’s probably cool enough to fire up the roaster. I just want to do a test batch of like, five pounds with the regular beans to see how this year’s harvest takes to our standard roast,” you explained, heading to the door and slipping on your sneakers. “Don’t let the dog out, it gets scared from the loud noises and I don’t need it freaking out.”

Johnny dried his hands and followed after you to the barn. You flicked on the lights and went straight for the sink to pull your hair out of your face, wash your hands, and put on a pair of gloves and a mask. Johnny followed your lead, even going so far as to tie up the top layer of his hair on top of his head. “Hey look! It’s like an apple,” he bobbed his head from side to side to make the tiny ponytail move back and forth, and you couldn’t help but snort as you tried to suppress your laughter.

“Dork,” was all you said. You went to the storage racks to pick up one of the sorted burlap bags of beans and hoisted it over your shoulder to carry it to a metal prep table where you carefully opened it and began scooping out the green beans and pouring them into a bowl on a metal scale that had been zeroed out. “So  obviously you know that coffee is counted by weight in pounds. That monstrosity,” you jerked your head in the direction of the massive eight foot tall machine in the corner of the room, “Can handle up to twenty-five pounds of beans in the barrel at a time. Because it’s so big, it’s best to not do super small batches, otherwise you risk burning the beans. Since I’m going for five pounds, it’ll be okay, but if I was doing any less I’d use one of the table top roasters, since they have a smaller barrel.” You finished weighing out five pounds and handed the container to him to carry.

You continued explaining the full process of roasting and science behind it as you flipped switches, checked that the exhaust was hooked up properly, and set the dials for the heat and time on the industrial roaster before pulling the door to the funnel open and having Johnny slowly pour the beans inside. “God you’re a fucking giant, I always need a step stool to reach that high,” you commented as he made the reach with ease.

You weren’t kidding when you said the roaster was loud when it was running. Thankfully with the size of the machine and this batch, it was only eleven minutes of the two of you standing just a few feet away in case anything went wrong and you had to hit the emergency stop, holding your hands over your ears to block the sound. Johnny began jokingly exaggerating mouthing something out, and you felt almost like friends as you laughed at his antics. You were never the best at reading lips. Especially not Johnny’s, they were too full and distracting on their own for you to make sense of the mouth shapes. When the machine came to a grinding halt and the noise suddenly stopped, he was still shouting words and his voice echoed around the space in the absence of the noise, “I said, I think you’re— oh, wow, that was fast,” he quickly diverted, catching himself from finishing whatever it was he was about to say.

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of trying to pry out of him what he was in the process of saying under the protection of the loud noises. You shook it off mentally and showed him how to remove the beans from the roasting chamber. “So you take them out like this, and then they’re still going to be warm for a while, so it’s best to let them rest for a bit. If you were to brew them right away, the flavor might not be what you’re expecting, so if you wait for them to sit for a few days, you’ll notice a considerable difference in the flavor profile—”

You stopped suddenly, a sound in the distance suddenly registering to you. You left Johnny standing there with the roasted coffee in hand and trailed to the edge of the barn and then you heard it more clearly— the sound of the old rotary phone ringing. “Oh, shit,” you swore and took off running back up to the house. The only person who had the number for the landline other than Wendy were Yunho and your sister. Wendy didn’t call you outside of your Thursday night appointments. You did the math in your head— it was the end of June, your sister’s due date wasn’t til the end of August, but early labor was always something you’d heard about, especially with more than one baby.

Hands shaking, you got to the phone on what could have been the last ring and panted out a greeting of Yunho’s name, already knowing it was him.

“Oh thank god you answered, I’ve been calling for the last twenty minutes, where were you?” He chastised immediately. You felt uneasy at the tone in his voice.

You stammered in response. “I— we were in the barn, I was roasting so I couldn’t hear the phone— what’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Yunho sighed out heavily and was quiet. “She’s going to be okay, but there was a… scare,” you could tell he was choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I don’t want to not tell you either. She slipped getting out of the shower, landed on her hip. Started having lower abdominal pain right after. We thought maybe it was going to be now, but, she’s fine. The doctors think they were phantom contractions? Whatever they were they’re gone now. The babies are fine, but she’ll most likely be in the hospital until the due date. If she starts experiencing any kind of contractions between now and then, though, they’ll want to induce labor.” You could tell he was still stressed and worried, but you nodded and listened as he explained some of the medical details a bit further. “Anyways, all this to say, the next time I call, it could be to tell you that you’re an auntie.”

From the moment you heard the phone ringing this late at night and calculated that it was almost two in the morning in Chicago, the tightness in your chest had been building. Listening to Yunho speak delicately about your sister’s condition was one thing— you thought it was a sigh of relief when he said that everything was fine, but then it was most certainly not fine when the gravity of his last words really hit you.

“Little Bean are you listening? Is the signal bad? I know the connection isn’t always great—”

You inhaled sharply as the pressure inside came to a head. “Yunho I gotta go,” you gasped out, barely able to make sense of thoughts to get the words out.

Before you could hear his rebuttal you slammed the phone on to the receiver to end the call and covered your face with your hands still in their nylon gloves. Despite standing in an open space, you suddenly felt like the room was spinning and the walls were closing in on you. Out, out, you had to get out—

“Hey, everything okay in here?”

Fuck.

Johnny was standing in the door, a look of concern on his face. You heaved into your hands and choked out a sob, feeling the wetness in your eyes building. No no no, everything was most certainly not okay in here. You shouldn’t have made eye contact, you should have known better, because looking at his face, his stupid perfect face and his genuine care for your wellbeing, it set you free falling over the precipice.

You were spiraling, and hard, and needed to land. It was instinctual, the way you cried out and ran pushing past him before breaking into an all out sprint down the hill to the fruit trees. Your legs barely kept up with the velocity of running at a decline, stopping short of tumbling and falling forward. The only thing that you knew to help this, the thing that had worked for you in the past, and you raced through the grove of trees for the larger one at the very end. It was one of the older trees, well mature and established with its root system, so you could always expect it to produce fruit.

But you’d harvested a large amount of the fruit in the last few weeks from the lower branches, and the only remaining fruit that would be ripe enough for your purposes was on the higher branches just out of reach. Over the sound of your pained sobs, you couldn’t hear Johnny’s approach or him asking what was wrong, your one track mind just trying desperately to jump and reach, fingertips barely brushing on the fruit you were reaching for.

“Hey hey, calm down, what are you—” he started.

“Shut up! Just shut— don’t tell— don’t tell me calm— calm—” you couldn’t make the words make sense, in your head you were screaming don’t tell me to calm down, but the act of translating that into words on your tongue was downright Herculean right now, it just wasn’t happening. Your knees began wobbling and standing too started feeling impossible. The tightness in your chest had expanded to reach your back, and though you were clearly still getting air by the fact that you hadn’t passed out yet, you felt like you weren’t breathing at all. You were crying outright now, tears wet and hot and painful as the sobs escaped your throat.

It didn’t take a genius to figure that you were trying to reach a fruit on a branch just above your wingspan. Johnny placed one large hand against your back gently and reached all the way up, fingers wrapping around what he assumed was the object of your fixation, before twisting and pulling to release it from the tree. “Hey,” he said softly, “This what you need?”

As soon as you made sense of the object in front of you you seized it from his hands, biting directly through the rind of the lemon. A muffled sob came out as your knees buckled and you sank to the ground. The bitter rush of citrus did part of its job, and brought your consciousness back down to earth. But your breathing didn’t steady, and your heart was still pounding, and the tears were still falling.

It wasn’t working, your grounding technique; not like it had the previous times, like the night you’d first gotten the phone call from Yunho saying they weren’t coming, and not like the time you bit into a lemon in the kitchen at work after first getting the phone call that your sister was pregnant, and even the time before that when she told you she and Yunho were moving, or when Yunho had asked you if he could marry your sister. If you were more with it, you would have thought for a moment longer about how all of your largest panic attacks of the last several years seemed to be linked to things about Yunho and your sister. Biting into a whole lemon had been your go-to for years, and suddenly, it wasn’t working.

“Fuck!” You cried out, spitting the lemon into your palms, “Fuck fuck fuck! Why isn’t it— why isn’t it working?!” Your words were absolutely frantic, and you were yelling at yourself more than your companion who, quite frankly, you’d forgotten was even there.

Until you felt a shadow pass over you in the moonlight and a pair of arms enveloping you in an embrace.

The top of your head was pressed against his chest and his hands found their way to the planes of your back and began rubbing soft circles. Softly he tutted out a shushing noise, voice barely above a whisper, steady. “Come on, let it out, I’m right here. I’ve got you, you’re not alone,” he said calmly, “You’re gonna get through it. Try to take a deep breath, that’s good now hold it as long as you can— okay, that’s okay, try again, try to hold on to it and let it out slowly this time.”

You’d never had anyone physically with you and help you through a panic attack before. You’d had them around people in the past, but no one had ever made a move to help you through it— not like this, not like him, not like he was doing right now by attempting to guide your breathing. The one time you had one in front on Wendy, you’d locked yourself in the bathroom and refused to answer her while you came down, and she never pressed you about it afterwards.

You had no idea how much time passed as Johnny held you in his arms, keeping a steady rhythm of his palms on your back and letting you cry it out into the fabric of his shirt, your hands wringing the material so strongly you thought you’d tear holes where your nails were.

One hand traveled to the back of your head and he stroked that too. “I’ve got you, I’m right here,” he said again.

After a longer period of silence, your ears stopped ringing and you could finally make out the chirping of the crickets in the night. You sniffled and rubbed the last of the trails the tears had left on your cheeks into his shirt, mumbling an apology into it.

“Don’t do that,” he said softly, keeping his voice low, almost as if he was afraid he’d scare you off if he raised it any higher. “I mean— haha, don’t apologize. It’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll wash out. If it doesn’t, it’s just a tee shirt, I can always buy another.” His tone was even paced and calm, and in pressing your ear against his chest you could hear the reverberations as he spoke.

The humid summer air was heavy as usual, even this late at night. You don’t know how long you sat there in silence, wrapped in Johnny’s arms listening to his heartbeat, but eventually you acknowledged that your heart was beating in time with his. Whether you liked it or not, he had been the thing to ground you, and not a stupid fucking lemon.

You shifted slightly, making a move to stand, but Johnny stopped you. “Whoa whoa, hang on lemme get ready— okay, hold on to my shoulders, that’s it.” Your fingers dug into his arms as he adjusted his legs and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back and stood up, taking you with him.

“Shit,” you mumbled out, head rushing at the quick movement and the realization that your legs were still bent over his arm, and Johnny was now carrying you. “Hey, heavy,” your words were still soft.

“Mmm, nah, nothing I can’t handle,” his response was easy, dismissive of your complaint, but not in a bad way. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but— anxiety? Panic attack?” You sucked in a breath at the word. You hated that word. That word made you feel weak, even if it was exactly what this was. You dug your nails into his skin slightly on a reflex of bracing yourself, not with this intention of inflicting damage. “Got it. I get it,” he had approached the house and walked to the door, reaching for the handle with the hand under your knees. “I’ve had a few myself. Not recently, but back in college, maybe two or three? Don’t think they were ever as strong as that, though. I tried the lemon trick once, it actually worked pretty well for me. Didn’t make the next time I did a tequila shot all that fun though, couldn’t enjoy citrus for at least a month after that.” His soft laughter shook his chest and you leaned in further. Listening to his voice was comforting. It was keeping you steady. It made you feel safe, and in this moment, you were too tired to think about how you probably should have hated that. “Think you could swallow some water? Rehydrating is important.”

Your head nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna put you down now.” He used his foot to push one of the chairs away from the table and set you down on to the seat gently. The dog was immediately at your knees, whining lowly and attempting to give as many kisses as you’d accept. “Here,” he said gently, crouching down in front of you and holding a glass out. “Drink what can, but not too fast. There you go, that’s it,” his large hand clasped over your knee, thumb rubbing circles on the side. “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” you rasped out, voice raw from all the crying earlier.

Johnny smiled softly. “Good, that’s good. Okay, I think you need to get to bed, yeah? Or do you wanna take a shower or something first?” You shook your head. “Okay, just washed your face then?” You nodded. Your conscious monologue was returning, but bringing words from your mind to your mouth was still proving difficult. Johnny didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered you his hand. “Need help getting up?”

You answered by gripping on to his hand and using his shoulders to help you stand up. Johnny walked you to your room, holding his arm out for you as a guide. You were able to bear weight on your feet now, and though your steps were slow, you made it to the bathroom to wash your face and and change into sleepwear. Johnny waited by the door, averting his eyes for privacy for you, and returned to your side to help you into bed.

When he leaned over you to pull the sheets up, you reached for his wrist and asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

His face went blank before it softened into a smile. “Because. I told you earlier, didn’t I? You’re a good person. Should be simple as that, yeah?”

You didn’t have a response for him, only shifting deeper into the pillows. He turned off the light and retreated to the door frame. “Try and get some rest. Call me if you need me, okay?”

Your head managed a nod, and Johnny finally left, leaving the door to your room slightly ajar. You listened for the sounds of him milling about the house, his footsteps softly shuffling against the floorboards, a few mumbled words to the dog that followed at his heels, until you finally fell asleep.

When you dreamed that night, you dreamt of him, the sound of his voice, and the way your blood felt on fire whenever he looked at you and smiled.

✧ ✧ ✧

Johnny never asked you about the panic attack.

He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t ask what caused it, he didn’t even allude to it in any conversation over the next week. The next day he was just a little bit more gentle with you with the tone and volume of his speaking voice, but when you showed no signs of still be affected from the previous night, he let it go and didn’t bother you about it.

You couldn’t tell if you loved him or hated him for it.

Confusion on your feelings aside, as June came to a close and the morning of July 3rd came, you woke up to the sound of the espresso machine running. Johnny had very quickly proven that he was worth his salt as a barista, even though it had been several years, and had a very nice shot pull. He even figured out the steamer, which was the most finicky part of the machine, and had been making you cortados every morning. That’s what you were sipping now from a metal camper mug, as you walked with him to the shed.

“I think that all that’s left is nailing down that last sheet of roofing and then we’re done,” he hummed cheerfully, inspecting the building. It looked brand new, a marked improvement from the broken windows and bleached paint job it had sported two months ago.

Two months. Was that really how long he’d been here? You didn’t want to think too much about it, about how those two months gone meant you had reached the half way point, and that there were about two months left.

Two months…

“We should celebrate,” he said suddenly, and you looked up puzzled.

“We?”

“Sure!” He exclaimed, “I had no idea what I was doing. I just did what you told me to. This was one of the biggest projects for the summer, right? And plus, not that I care too much for the holiday, but won’t there be fireworks and stuff for the Fourth? Come on, this house has been dry for weeks, let’s go get some booze and live a little, huh?” He prodded your side with his elbow and began needling at you, saying huh, huh, huh over and over until you groaned and relented.

“Fiiiiiine, let’s go before the stores get crowded when everyone realizes everything’s gonna be closed tomorrow.”

The dog was less than pleased that you’d sent it back into the house when you picked up the keys to the jeep. Usually you took it with you, but this time you decided against it, since you weren’t sure how the liquor store would feel with you bringing the stray dog off leash into the store with you.

“All you, big guy,” you said to Johnny as you tossed the car keys at him.

“Aren’t you gonna ask if I know how to drive first?” He quipped back quickly while walking to the driver’s side.

“Nah,” you shrugged comically, hoisting yourself up by the frame of the car. You buckled yourself in and watched as he did the same and adjusted the mirrors for his height. “Besides,” you looked down to inspect your fingernails as if they were the most fascinating thing on the planet, “I trust you, or whatever.”

“Bit of a stupid thing to do, but alright,” he smiled, echoing your words back at you. “Kidding, I’m an excellent driver. Alright, co-pilot! You have the most sacred duty bestowed upon you—”

“Navigation?”

“No, music selection, duh,” he scoffed and handed you the aux cord and pulled out a cell phone you’d never seen him hold before. You stared at the device as he unlocked it and pulled up his music library. Johnny noticed your surprised expression out of the corner of his eye. “What, it’s not like I have a use for it out here. Your wifi sucks and I’m not about to rack up a huge cell phone bill, so it stays off in my duffle bag most of the time. Anyways, this is a test! Pick whatever your heart desires.” The smirk on his face was beyond mischievous as he handed it to you.

You sighed and settled into the seat and began scrolling. What to pick, what to pick…

Surprisingly, there was a decent number of songs you recognized, and one album in particular you were a fan of. You scrolled down the track listing to about the half way point and pressed play.

The sounds of The Killers and the familiar guitar chords that were practically sewn into your DNA began to filter through the speakers. Johnny smiled and started clapping as the car reached the bottom of the driveway and he flipped on the turn signal. “Oh my god, Mr. Brightside, excellent choice! Okay, you passed the first test. But do you know the words?” He teased.

You gasped in feigned offense as the lyrics came to the chorus, and as he accelerated up to speed you began to belt the words out as loud as you could manage. For once you weren’t thinking about how you hated that the jeep had no top while the wind whipped past you on all sides as Johnny sped down the highway. As the song played, the magic high of belting the words to something fifteen years old that were still imprinted in your brain didn’t seem to wear off like you’d expected it to.

“Alright, chop chop what’s next maestro!” He called over the sound of the wind as the song came to a close. You already had something queued up, something a little more recent, and you smiled as the words to the next song began filtering through the speakers, letting the music carry the drive and not belting along with it this time. You tried to not think too deeply about the lyrics of the chorus as it played.  

'Cause you're the last of a dying breed Write our names in the wet concrete I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me? I'm here in search of your glory There's been a million before me That ultra-kind of love You never walk away from You're just the last of the real ones

As the bridge played and you neared your destination, Johnny tilted his head towards you while keeping his eyes on the road. “Growing up, it was like, a badge of honor as a Chicago kid to have gone to a Fall Out Boy show when they still played the smaller clubs. I snuck into one when I was 16— it was an 18 and over show— felt like I was hot shit when I got away with it.”

“Don’t know why, but you don’t strike me as a Fall Out Boy fan,” you admitted. From your scroll through his music library, you saw most of their discography saved to his phone.

“Hey, I had my embarrassing wannabe emo phase too.”

“Had?” You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing. Johnny didn’t give a response to that one, and as another Fall Out Boy song played through the speakers you let yourself rest in a comfortable lack of conversation, instead sharing the music with him as he drove. It only took to the end of that third song to reach your destination and based on how he handled the drive and parking, true to his word Johnny was an excellent driver.

Johnny followed you closely once inside, his eyes scanning up and down the shelves of the tiny liquor store before he reaches and picks up a six pack of pilsner. “You ever try this one?”

Your nose wrinkles in disgust. “I don’t do beer.”

Johnny blinks twice in response and plops the six pack back down on the shelf. “Noted. What do you drink?”

“If I’m picking?” He nods. “I’m a slut for rosé or champagne. Any sparkling wine, really, it makes me feel fancy and you get to turn basic days into little celebrations.” You follow him as he walks down the aisle to where the selection of wine was shelved and starts looking through the options. “Hang on, you’re not gonna grill me about the beer thing?”

“You say that like your friends usually give you shit for it.”

You crossed your arms and shuffle your feet underneath you. “Well, yeah. Usually.”

“Then I would say,” he trails off for a moment, bending and squatting to see a label on a lower shelf before picking up two bottles of the same brand, “You need new friends. Or that your current ones need to learn boundaries, take your pick. How’s this look for one option? Since this is a celebration and all,” he says with a wink.

Leaning forward, you study the label on the bottle for a moment before nodding in approval. You agree to his point that since they were 15% off if you bought six or more bottles, it only made sense to buy more, and besides, “It’s not like you won’t drink them eventually when you’re on the phone with Wendy.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that. “How do you know her name?”

“I’m quiet not deaf, and you’re louder than you think you are,” he says matter-of-factly before heading to the cashier to pay for your selection. You bite your tongue then, hoping to whatever deity was watching you (and probably laughing) that he’d overheard one of the conversations that wasn’t about Wendy insisting you should bone him.

Johnny picks the music on the way back, opting for some Bleachers and Paramore now that he knew at least part of your music taste and how it aligned with his.

Your new selection of wine goes into the fridge as soon as you get home, and Johnny heads to the shed with a ladder in hand to climb on top and finish nailing down the roofing. You opt to help with this task, spotting from the ground and continuously yelling for him to ‘be careful’ and ‘you better not fall and break your neck while I’m watching’. It takes a little over an hour, and it’s late afternoon when he finishes, but when you climb the ladder yourself as he holds it steady from the ground to inspect his handiwork you have to say you’re impressed.

“You sure you never did construction work before? You’ve got shockingly good craftsmanship for a newbie.”

“My dad’s pretty self sufficient so he was always doing the handiwork around the house. Picked stuff up here and there from him growing up, but anything I didn’t know I could just look up on the internet.” You shoot him a pointed look. “What! I said your wifi was shitty not that I didn’t use it every now and again. There’s a YouTube tutorial for everything these days.”

Johnny insisted on cleaning up the last of the debris on his own while you worked on dinner— another pasta dish, orecchiette broccoli rabe, and while that was cooking you boil a pint of blackberries with water and sugar to make a flavored simple syrup. Since you were celebrating tonight, it only felt right to put in a little extra effort even to the drinks of choice. Kir Royales were typically made with a blackcurrant liquor, but it was a niche product you hadn’t found in the store, so the syrup and a slice of lemon for garnish would have to do.

While you waited for Johnny to finish up and take his shower (after the last time, you gave him plenty of space out of an abundance of caution whenever he showered), you started rummaging through the pantry cabinets and making sense of the dry ingredients you had on hand. You had time to kill, why not make a dessert with it?

You hadn’t talked about it much with Johnny, but you actually did enjoy cooking and baking. Something about spending time and energy making something and having someone consume it and tell you they liked made you feel good. You still remember the first time you made breakfast for a hungover Wendy in college and she raved about it for days, though you were pretty sure back then it was because the carbs soaked up the remaining alcohol in her system and stopped her from puking.

Dinner was finished when Johnny finally came out of the shower, this time fully clothed and his hair more dry. You explained that you’d gotten bored and made cookie dough but the oven hadn’t finished pre-heating yet so nothing was baked.

“Fuck it, cookie dough is always better than the cookies themselves,” he shrugged.

“But salmonella—”

Johnny held up a hand jokingly as he stopped your interjection and turned off the oven. “Still convinced that’s a myth parents made up to stop kids from actually enjoying childhood. Plus it’s hot as balls, chill the dough while we eat and then it’ll be even better after. Plus, you haven’t poisoned either of us yet, I think your track record is pretty good so far.” (There he went again, referring to you and him as an ‘us’.)

So you did just that, putting the cookie dough into the fridge and taking your dinner outside with the cocktails you’d made. You didn’t have any wine glasses here at the farm house— after breaking one stemmed glass during your first phone call with Wendy you’d moved the rest to the condo and replaced the drink ware with mason jars because the clean up was too annoying. Plus, you didn’t want to risk the dog stepping on stray shards of thin glass and getting them stuck in the pads of its paws. (You were still decidedly apathetic towards it, but that didn’t mean you were cruel).

So it was in the wide mouth Kerr jars that you poured your blackberry syrup and a half a bottle of champagne, after a comical exchange of Johnny insisting he wasn’t scared of the pop! that corks made coming out of pressurized bottles and the yelp he let out anyways when it happened as expected. The lemon slice garnish was more of an aesthetic touch than anything but you liked it nonetheless.When Johnny pulls out his phone for the second time that day and insists on playing music and making a dramatic toast before you could drink, you could only laugh and agree.

“To the best Boss I’ve ever had,” he said with a raised glass, “Even though you used me for cheap labor and to do all the hard shit.”

“Rude! I cook every day, look at all the chances I’ve had to poison you and how many times have I done it? Absolutely none because I am a saint and you know it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the music, the low hum of crickets, the starry night sky, or the summer heat that did it, but time flowed so easily, and so did the conversation and teasing banter. Over the course of one meal you’d exchanged more words with Johnny than you had in the whole two months you’d known each other. Two hours later and you’d finished all the dinner (of course there were no leftovers, Johnny was still Johnny, but the amount of manual labor he did in a day made sense of how much he usually ate, you’d come to realize). The bowl of cookie dough was now sitting on the step of the lanai and you and Johnny were side by side on the deck, looking out over the farm and taking the occasional spoonful of dough into your mouths. He was right— the dough did taste better than the baked cookies probably would have, especially after it had chilled for a bit. With the way the stars and moon were hung in the cloudless sky, you could see the soft glow of their reflection in the water beyond the highway and the cliff leading to the beach.

“You ever go down to the shore?” He asks suddenly, and it feels out of nowhere and like he’s inside your head because how else would he have known you were just thinking about the ocean? But then you register that Andrew McMahon’s voice has just crooned something about Venice Beach and the California summer in the music that had still been playing through the speakers of Johnny’s phone.

You hummed for a moment before answering. “Not really. I should make more time for it, but I rarely ever leave the farm, as you probably noticed. I know this place is paradise for so many people, the vacation destination on a lot of bucket lists, but I think my… circumstances made me bitter towards the island, conceptually speaking anyways.” You watched the water with a bit more focus as a few waves crested, but you couldn’t see enough of the shore to see them actually crash. “I know I don’t talk about it much but, I needed a break from my work too. That’s… part of the reason I’m here, why I was waiting for my sister and Yunho to come out. It’s a much less interesting story than yours, so I won’t bore you with the details,” you wanted to reroute the subject before any questions started getting asked, but deep down you knew Johnny wasn’t going to press you for anything you weren’t ready to share. He’d figured that much out about you anyways.

“Anyways, maybe you’re on to something, Seo. Maybe I should take some time to actually relax a bit, seeing as now that I’ve tricked you into finishing the most difficult and time consuming of the summer projects Yunho had planned,” you stuck your tongue out between your teeth jokingly in an effort to mask the vulnerability you’d briefly shown.

Johnny took the hint and changed the subject. “The Killers, Bleachers, Paramore, Fall Out Boy… not saying I don’t like your taste in music, but I’m surprised it’s your picks were so astoundingly pop-punk-rock. Woulda taken you for a—”

“If you finish that sentence by saying ‘country kinda girl’ I’m locking you out tonight and taking the cookie dough with me,” you warned.

He laughed and shook his head. “No, you strike me as too high strung to enjoy country. Like it’s typically too slow for your tastes, or something like that.”

“Oh I’m obnoxious about my taste in media, if you couldn’t already tell. I’ve listened to mostly the same artists for the last ten years. In high school I was that kid that thought making it known that I ‘didn’t listen to the radio pop main stream’ was a personality trait, whatever that meant.”

“Oooh, so edgy and mysterious, did she used to cut her own bangs too?” He giggled into his mason jar, taking another sip.

“Nooo, that was only one time and I swear it was on a dare and not because of a break up!” You jokingly wailed out, throwing your head back in exaggeration. “Although I do regularly trim Wendy’s bangs for her because she can’t be trusted with sharp objects. Knives, needles, scissors, none of it, girl’s a total klutz,” you took another sip and uncorked the bottle again to refill your jar. You held the remainder up for Johnny to see, silently asking if he wanted a top off to finish the last of the second bottle you’d opened.

Johnny was a big guy— tall and muscular, you were sure it would take him a bit more than a bottle or two of shared champagne to get him tipsy. That’s why you didn’t think too much of it as he stared into the reinvigorated fizzing bubbles as he quietly said, “I’d like to meet her someday. Wendy, I mean— you talk about her so fondly, she seems like a great person. Like she’s good for you in your life.”

Why did you feel a little uneasy at the way he spoke about Wendy? He had no idea what she looked like, it was only from the stories you’d been telling that he knew anything about her. And it wasn’t even the real her, it was just her as she existed to you, so what was there to be uneasy about? You were overthinking again, so you had to come up with an answer to fill the silence you’d created— “Yeah well, Wendy’s sick of dick, she’s very bisexual and I’m pretty sure she’s head over heels in love with this Joohyun she started seeing recently, she’s just too much of a chicken shit to tell her how she feels,” you hid behind you glass and drank deeply, not minding as the floating slice of alcohol soaked lemon rested against your nose.

“Sounds familiar,” Johnny said quietly. “I… can relate, I think,” he mumbled out, and you glanced over in time to see him place his now-empty cup on the wood beside him. “Sometimes you just feel the way you do and you don’t really have a reason for why, but you can’t even put it to words to the person it matters to.”

This time when your breath caught in your throat, it wasn’t because of a mounting attack, but in anticipation of what Johnny would do next. The space between you had slowly waned as you’d been drinking, your bodies inching closer to each other without you even realizing it, almost like the way the moon pulled the tide to the shore over and over again. When your eyes traveled from where his hand was pressed into the deck flooring up to meet his hooded gaze, you don’t really know what you were expecting, but Johnny’s parted lips shining slightly (probably from that last drink of wine) was not it.

You knew this feeling. This was when you were supposed to lean in, right? That’s how this usually went. Your hand shifted closer towards his for a moment and then pulled back, and the end joint of Johnny’s fingers flexed as he pressed his fingertips into the deck.

You didn’t lean in. Your heart was hammering in your chest far too loud for you to be able to do so; instead, you look away, his eye and his lips and his face and his everything suddenly too much, and your turned your cheek to him instead.

Instead, he leaned in, and for just a brief moment the crickets stopped chirping, the distant ocean stopped moving, the music stopped playing, and your heart stopped beating as Johnny’s perfectly pouty lips pressed against your cheek, and then your temple, and then your throat. And then his head tilted down and his nose brushed against your skin delicately, leaving a trial of burning in its wake, and time didn’t start turning again until the snort of his laughter broke the silence and he fell into your shoulder in a giggle fit.

It took all of your patience and self control to make your lungs continue to function as you listened to Johnny giggle so much he stopped making sounds until he was spewing out between fits of laughter ‘The bubbles make everything funny, why is everything funny with bubbles?’

‘Why indeed’, you wondered silently, letting the clearly tipsy Johnny rest his head on your shoulder as he continued his giggle fits, stroking the palm of your hand against his back as he’d first done for you under far different circumstances, trying to not think about how much faster your heart was beating while doing so, and how if your accelerated heart rate was from his proximity to you, you didn’t mind.

How long did you stay like that, in such a familiar embrace with Johnny? Long enough, it seemed, for the playlist on his phone to come to an end and for him to start dozing off while resting against you, his light snores the thing that finally made you disturb him so you could go back inside. It was late anyways, nearing midnight you said softly and you tried to wake him gently—

A surprisingly loud boom shook the sky followed by a burst of light and color. Immediately the dog inside woke up and started barking, and Johnny bolted upright, eyes darting around in search of the source of the noise that had disturbed his snoozing.

“Fireworks,” you breathed out, more to yourself than to him. “Guess it’s midnight already.” Johnny didn’t say much, but his eyes twinkled as he watched in earnest as a few more went off before you tugged on his sleeve and insisted that he needed to make his way to bed and sleep. There were sure to be more tomorrow, and he could watch them then.

You didn’t sleep for hours that night. After helping the mildly intoxicated Johnny to his bed, you sat on the floor of your room, knees pulled into your chest and a hand laying flat against your cheek where he’d planted his trail of kisses. “He was just drunk, he’s just a flirty drunk, that didn’t mean anything,” you repeated to yourself over and over again.

But something about the way Johnny’s lips felt against the apples of your cheek and the hollow of your throat when he’d been nuzzling against you stayed with you all night long, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a flame where your heart lived. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and inhaled deeply, breath shuddering on the exhale.

Against all your hopes and intensions, Johnny Seo had slowly chipped his way through your armor and into your heart.

You had to get him out. Fast.

tbc.

—

author’s note | Me: this first part is gonna be like, I dunno, 5k? 6k? Also me: writes 19,000 words. We call this ✨processing your own trauma through writing as an outlet✨ Originally this was going to be one really long one shot and then I decided to split it up for ratings purposes because I am a thirsty whore for Youngho. The ending is rushed but honestly I was so sick of editing and overthinking this lmaooo. No I have not spent a summer living in Kona working on a coffee farm. Most of my coffee knowledge is second hand from the time my brother in law bought a coffee farm and started a roasting business because my sister dared him to by saying “do it you won’t” (an exact quote I shit you not). There’s more to this story and uh I dunno I’ll maybe post it eventually if people don’t hate this one *shrugs*

#Johnny x Reader #Johnny Seo #Johnny Seo x Reader #Johnny Seo fanfic #NCT fanfic #NCT Fluff #NCT Angst #kinda lmao i dunno leave me alone #panic attack tw #mental health issues tw #anxiety tw #idk if i'm even happy with this or if I'm gonna go back and edit that last 5k i wrote tongiht w/e #shrugs this is fine #johnny: bitter brews #swamp witch writes

[thelukesalvez]

Spencer Reid x Reader: All I Need Is You

Prompt: You think you need someone who can be around more than Spencer, but then he surprises you at home, and it turns out, all you need is him.

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​​​ , @saintd0lce​​ , @ogmilkis​ , @reidswords​, @akimagies​​, @sskhair​

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

A/N: Literally just some nonsense spencer fluff bc i love him lots.  (Not my gif). 

You spent your birthday without the FBI agent by your side, and it hurt worse than you thought it would.  It didn’t surprise you that he wasn’t there, for two reasons.  The first being that you had known that things like this were going to happen. You and Spencer have had the discussion countless times before.  He was in LA right now, doing his job. And, no matter how badly you wished it would, crime didn’t stop just because it was your birthday. It was a fact, an undeniable one, and it was just something you both had to get over.

Or rather, you did. You had to get over the fact that you had to spend your birthday without the one person you wanted there most. But it was fine, really. You didn’t care.

The second reason being, that you and Spencer weren’t exactly together anymore.

You had talked about your relationship right before Spencer had to leave for a case about a month ago now, because the idea of trying to have this relationship was starting to feel a little impractical for you. 

“We never see each other,” you had reminded him.

You felt selfish, of course. Spencer was spending his days away from you saving actual lives- making a real difference in the world. But all you could ever think about was wanting him home.

So you talked it through, and had suggested that maybe it was time to slow things down a little bit. 

“It’s only been a few months,” you had joked, mostly so that you didn’t completely lose it. 

You were an adult, for Christ’s sake.  You should be able to handle not having Spencer around for a few days. You’d done just fine by yourself before meeting him, so you should be fine now.

But you weren’t fine.  And that was the problem.  Every second spent away from him was torture.  It hurt too much to miss him. 

“What does that even mean?” he had asked, his eyes saddening. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Maybe we just take a break for a while.”

You didn’t know what part of you decided that pulling away from Spencer would be a good idea, but that’s exactly what you chose to do. It wasn’t that you wanted to push him out of your life, because you didn’t- You just needed something real, something stable and solid. You needed someone who was there. You didn’t want to punish Spencer for his lifestyle, and you definitely didn’t want to make him feel guilty for his career.  But you needed someone, and Spencer couldn’t be that someone, not from so far away.

It wasn’t until late on the night of your birthday that you got the text. 

You were cleaning up the remnants of the birthday cake your mom had brought over for you when you heard your phone ping on the counter. 

It was from Spencer. 

Just got back from a case. Can I see you?

It was nothing much, but it felt like everything. 

You sighed, realizing you couldn’t have said no to him even if you wanted to. 

What time should I expect you, FBI?

Within seconds, a reply came through.  I’m already here.

You stared at your phone for a moment, rereading his response, until a knock at the door startled you.  You hurried across the kitchen and into the hallway, pulled the door open. 

Spencer stood in the entry, a weak smile on his face and a bouquet of peonies in his arms. 

“Hi,” he said quietly. 

“Spencer-” you say, the surprise had you at a loss for words. “W-what’re you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to miss your birthday,” he explains.  He extends the flowers out in front of himself.  “I got these for you.”

You sigh adoringly.  It wasn’t fair- how quickly Spencer was able to reel you back in.  You never even stood a chance. 

You didn’t even say “thank you,” as you took the flowers.  You just took the flowers from him, tossing them gently on the counter beside you, before grabbing Spencer’s shirt sleeve, and pulled him inside.

And then, without thinking, you kissed him.  It was more out of necessity than anything- like he was your oxygen mask and the past month you’d been underwater.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled, the words getting lost against your lips. You could only groan in response. 

But of course you were thinking, I missed you too, so much.  I need you more than I need anything else, don’t leave, please stay.

But you didn’t say any of that, because there was a jet lagged FBI agent crowding your space and pushing you up against the wall. 

There was a current of electricity between you that was almost impossible to ignore.  But all you could do was enjoy the kissing for as long as you possibly could.

When you finally pulled apart, Spencer rests his forehead against yours, arms wrapping around your waist. You were both breathing heavily.

“I couldn’t miss your birthday,” he whispers, eyes finally looking up to meet yours.

“My birthday- it doesn’t matter,” you reply, shrugging because you didn’t know what else to do.

“It mattered to me, “ he breathed, lifting his hand to push a stray hair behind your ear. “I can’t-”

But you cut him off. “Don’t,” you whisper, shaking your head. You wrapped your fingers around Spencer’s wrist and pulled him towards your bedroom. 

...

When you woke up, the sun was just starting to peak through the curtains of your bedroom.

Your turned onto your side and stared at Spencer laying next to you. He was still dead to the world, his lips parted slightly as he slept peacefully. Almost a full month had passed since you’d last seen Spencer and now he was laying in your bed. He was curled up right next to you.

You took in his sleeping body beside you. Warm, like your own personal heater. 

He had dark circles under his eyes, which would have bothered you more if Spencer didn’t look so peaceful right now. Jet lag, you figured. Or stress from their last case. He was probably just exhausted, and rightfully so.

You wanted to rake your fingers through his messy hair.  You wanted to make Spencer comfortable, content, happy, because that was exactly how you felt with him laying beside you.

Your fingers were itching to touch, and you finally let yourself because you couldn’t handle it anymore. You reached your arm out and brushed your fingers over Spencer’s shoulders.  

He’d filled out more.  Everywhere your eyes fell, Spencer’s muscles were more defined than they had been just a month before. As you rubbed your thumb in circles against his skin, until you finally felt Spencer stir beneath you.

Spencer released a low groan before his eyelids opened slowly. 

You smirked. “Morning.”

Spencer groaned again. “Mornin’.”

His voice was sleepy, making you laugh. “Jet lag caught up to you, huh?” you asked. 

“I think so,” Spencer muttered. He turned his body so he was laying on his side facing you, and you wrapped your arm around his waist so that you could pull him closer.

You laid like that for awhile, not saying anything and not doing anything, just soaking it up.

“I’m glad I’m home,” Spencer said finally, his voice quiet.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“And here with you.”

You smiled wider. “Me too.”

He sighed sadly then, making you frown.  You pulled away to look up at his face, hoping you could read his expression. “What did last night mean?” he asks. 

You shrug, hesitating to answer. 

“I thought you might’ve moved on,” Spencer admitted. 

“That’s sort of impossible to do when you exist.” You admit quietly.  

You’re surprised when you see Spencer smile and respond, “Good.”

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Good?”

Spencer nodded. “Good. Because I really don’t want you to move on. Not without me.” 

You sighed. “The distance is never going to get easier.”

Spencer frowned. “No, probably not.”

After a moment of silence you add, “But pretending like I’m not completely in love with you isn’t easy either.”

There was a brief pause, and then Spencer was smiling. “Yeah?”

“I thought not being together was for the best, but I can’t do it.  I’d rather miss you when you’re away than not have you at all.”

Spencer barely let you finish your declaration before he was pulling your body into his chest and kissing you like his life depended on it.  You knew the feeling. 

“Thought you needed something solid,” Spencer whispered when he finally pulled away.

“Turns out all I need is you.”

#spencer reid x reader imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader one shot

[exoxobsession]

Storm || One-Shot

Pairing: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff, HogwartsAU! (forgive me!)

Warnings: None! (The only warning is that it’s bad)

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I’m not very good at writing fluff so i kept it to a bare minimum. Sorry for the terrible fic. I just wanted a Kyungsoo one and was in Harry Potter mood so...here goes nothing.

You took a deep breath as you walked through the grand doors of the castle along with many others. Being a muggle-born, you didn’t know what the Wizarding World was like. Professor McGonagall led the group up to where a hat sat on a chair. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool, to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall says.

Everything was a blur until they called your name. You walked up nervously, hands sweating as you rubbed them together. “Hm, a muggle-born I see. You’re intelligent, you have a lot of wisdom, yes. But you’re very brave too. RAVENCLAW!” the hat decides.

You make your way to the table filled with blue and bronze.

That was how your Hogwarts adventure started. You were a Ravenclaw, who was supposed to be intelligent and have a lot of wisdom. ‘That stupid sorting hat got it wrong’ you thought. You weren’t as intelligent as the other Ravenclaws. You were average. But what you were good at and enjoyed was Quidditch. You were the seeker for Ravenclaw. Some even say that you were their good luck charm. No, you didn’t win every match, but the average increased.

Today you were late to practice because of Professor Snape. Running through hallways as you bumped into people, you turned back and shouted a sorry as you sprint across. Before you could turn back, you bumped into someone making you fall on the person. You were about to curse at the person before you saw him Do Kyungsoo. Your crush for three years. Panic settled in you as you scrambled yourself away from the boy. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I was in a rush and, sorry!” you babbled as you bowed to him furiously.

He laughed it off; you swear you’ve never seen this boy laugh in the four years of you attending Hogwarts. He was serious and looked like he would kill someone every time you saw him. “It’s fine, but you seem to be in a hurry. You should go,” he said as you just stared at his beautiful face. His features were perfect, his beautiful owl eyes, his heart-shaped lips, his soft hair, and his- a cough brought you back to reality as you Kyungsoo’s flushed cheeks. You must’ve been staring for too long. “Right, I should go, and um, sorry again,” you said awkwardly and hurried away from him.

You finally reached the Quidditch pitch, panting. You never ran that fast in your entire life, not even when a bulldog chased you for a whole seven minutes. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Jongin came up to you and asked. “All fine.” was your response. Then the Gryffindor team left.

The Golden Snitch was thrown into the air, your eyes not leaving it for a second at all. Then it moved away from you, going behind you. You tried your hardest to look out for it, but if you couldn’t see it and it was harder when grey clouds started forming. You flew higher, thinking it would be easier to spot it. Finally, you saw a tiny shimmer of gold; you took off, going at a higher pace. Finally,  catching that snitch.

As soon as you caught the snitch, the rain started pouring. You all hurried back to the castle, though everyone was wet.  Back in the dorms, some opting to play wizard chess, some homework, and others just talking, you wanted to get some sleep.

You were down as soon as you hit the bed.

In the morning you weren’t awoken by the sounds of birds singing, no, but the rumble of the thunder outside. But the thunder was outside. Not inside, so the classes must go on. Yay. Still sleepy as ever, you went to the washroom to freshen up.

You checked your timetable, seeing that Potions was the first class today. You tagged along with your friends instead of going like a loner. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kyungsoo and his friends pass by. Chanyeol and Jongdae? You weren’t sure of the names, but you knew they loved annoying him.

You remember the first time you met him. It was the day you were first attending Hogwarts. You got on the train and was awe the ancient feeling; you didn’t see his suitcase there, and being the klutz you are, you tripped. Being the kind human being he is, he offered you his Licorice Wand and some Chocolate Frogs, though you kept refusing; saying he had to make it up to you.

Every interaction you had with him was mostly you tripping, either physically or with words. Professor Snape’s voice rang through the class, startling you. “Today, you’ll be making Amortentia, and I expect none of you to mess up cauldrons, understood?”

You knew you would get partnered. But not with Kyungsoo. What would happen if you messed up? Or maybe you were staring at his face too long? Amid you worrying, he came over and guided you to one cauldron at the back. “You make it while I read out the ingredients,” you said without stuttering or getting distracted by his face. He just smiled. You started reading the ingredients to you both were done in no time.

“Done already, Mr. Do?” Professor Snape asked as he moved to us. “Now, tell me what it smells like,” he said to both of us. Kyungsoo went first, bending so he could smell it properly, “It smells like the woody scent of a broomstick handle, licorice wands, and the smell after rain, sir.” he said, as he straightened up.

“You, Ms. Y/N.,” he said, his gaze hardening more than it was. “I smell chocolate frogs, the smell of old books and…” you could smell his cologne. You weren’t sure if it was because he was beside you or if it was from the cauldron. “Great job, you can leave now.” he walked away.

You quickly got out in case he decides to changes his mind. “That was like something that happens only in a lifetime,” he chuckled. “Yeah.” you smiled, but the booming sound of the thunder caught you off guard, making you visibly flinch. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough already?

Awkwardness soon settled in. Just the sound of your footsteps echoing through the hallways. You tried to think of something to talk to about when he spoke, “You were in a hurry yesterday. Did you get wherever you were going?” he asked as he cutely tilted his head. This boy was going to be the end of you. “Yeah, I was late to Quidditch practice because of Snape, no it was because of that stupid Baekhyun.” his face hardened at the end of your sentence. “You know Baekhyun? But he’s a Gryffindor, and he’s 5th year, right?” he questioned.

“Yeah, he is and isn’t your friend, Chanyeol, was it? He’s in Gryffindor too and, he’s 4th year.” you retorted. “Touché.” he gave up to which you smiled. “But we aren’t even friends, even though we’re from the same house,” he grumbled under his breath. It was inaudible to you, to you who was way up in the clouds.

There was only one more class, but you were beyond drained, exhausted, to even hear Baekhyun and his nonsense. “Are you even listening?” he frowned. “I love you and all, Baek but, I’m tired.” you groaned. “When are you not?” he rolled his eyes. “I heard you and Kyungsoo were partners in Potions.” he grinned stupidly while raising his eyebrows up and down. “Oh, shut up, you cockroach, plus he has a girlfriend.”

“What did you call me? A cockroach? This beautiful face and body looks like a cockroach to you?” he said in disbelief as he started chasing you around. You ran to your next class, but before you could even make it in, he grabbed you by the waist and started tickling you. “Take it back!” he shouted, still not stopping. “Fine! Fine…” you exclaimed, still trying to catch your breath. He let go of you at last.

“But your still a cockroach!” you said, sticking your tongue out and entering the classroom because you knew he wouldn’t come in here. “Yah!” was all you heard after you came in. That idiot can put a smile on your face no matter what. You felt someone staring at you, so you turned back, seeing the only Do Kyungsoo looking at you with a stony stare that sent chills up your spine.

Throughout the class, you felt his eyes on you. But when you looked back, he would look at the front or talking to the pretty Hufflepuff girl. When he was doing the latter, jealously built up in the pit of your stomach. It was his girlfriend.

Class ended quickly, but all you could hear through the class was his deep laugh. But you weren’t the reason. You’ve never seen him laugh that much. Or smile. You make your way to the Great Hall. Finishing your meal quickly, you walk back to go to bed.

Soon everyone started filling in, changing, and sleeping. You were about to head to dreamland when you heard the thunder roaring. You flinched, again and again, every time there was a noise. After a good few minutes, you sat up to see if anyone of your friends were awake, but no luck there. You heard the fireplace cackle, and you went to see if anyone was in the common room.

As you reached the bottom step, you stubbed your toe, which made you yelp, and the person on the couch turn. It was Kyungsoo. “You okay?” he asked, worry flashing in his eyes. Nodding, you ambled to the couch. Opting for the other side rather than anywhere closer.

“Can’t sleep?” he questioned, turning to look at you as the shades of red of the fire fell on his face. “The storm and the noises are keeping me up,” you answered. Then silence, just the fire burning, and the lightning clapping. “You could smell Baekhyun in the potion, right?” he decided to break the ice once again. You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Baekhyun was your best friend and nothing more.

“What’s so funny?” he frowned. “It’s… it’s so funny you think I like Baekhyun. He’s nothing more than my best friend, Kyungsoo.” you said, his name rolling off your tongue beautifully. “Then who did you smell?” this question caught you off guard.

“W-What?” you stuttered. “I don’t know if I’m being too straightforward here, but…” you waited for him to continue, raising your eyebrows as to tell him to go on. “It was you, Y/N. I’ve liked you ever since that day where-”

“You like me too?” you asked in a low voice. “Wait, what? ” he asked,  confused. “I’ve liked you since 1st year,” you said, feeling your face go hot. “What about your girlfriend then?” you asked quickly remembering. “I broke up with her, but we decided to stay friends.” he chuckled lightly. “For me?” you looked down at your hands.

He put his hand under your chin lifting your head, and softly landed his plump lips on yours.

You thanked the storm out there because without it he wouldn’t be yours.

#kyungsoo #exosnet #exowritersnet #do kyungsoo #exo d.o #d.o #d.o one shot #hogwartsau #exo #baekhyun #chanyeol #ravenclaw #exo fanfiction #exo fanfics #exo hogwarts au!

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Dating a tattoo artist

Imagine: being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

This was a fun idea I had. I hope you like it. Enjoy ❤️

Victor Creed

-he is here for it

-since his loooooonnnnggg life is well long he loves to tells stories of tattoo artists he met Japan, Brazil, New York, New Zeland...

-and you can bet that he will have the most elaborate tattoo you can think of since he said so

'You want a tattoo? From me?'

'Yes, I trust you.'

'That's the problem, Vic, you could end up with a dolphin tattoo on your arm.'

'.... Well... I still trust you?'

-after that, he was a little bug just to be on your good side which you took full advantage of

Being on top, commanding him? Sure

Handing you the remote even though it's next to you? Of course

Helping you choose an outfit even though you are indecisive and he has a short fuse? Hell yeah.

-when the day came you tattooed him a small quote that described him

"Tough times never last but tough people do"

(Robert H. Shuller)

'I love it. Thank you kitten.'

Loki Laufeyson

-Since he was in the cell for most of his life (in my universe that's the worst thing happening for him, he didn't die nor his mother) he doesn't know what a tattoo artist is he thinks that's an alternative art form he is supportive

-after you talk to him describing the definition of tattoos and the art behind it he is very much perplexed

'So mortals pay you to pierce their skin with black ink to paint...something????'

'Tattoo something on their skin and yes.'

'With pain in mind?????'

'Yes, and it looks awesome.'

-when he heard the story of your tattoo shop he decided to tag along to see the magic

-he saw how men and women tattooed others while they squirmed in their seats he chuckled at the sight of it

'Darling you could have told me.'

'What?'

'You torture people with the needle machines and coax them into paying you. Brilliant.'

'Suree~~~~'

-he stayed with you to help you with the pain giving without a medical license

'I'm a God. I'm above it.'

'No one is above the Inspection.'

Thor Odinson

-since his depression and weight gain he is very much informed of the world of MTV tattoo show "How far is tattoo far?"

-so he very much thinks that tattoos are a stamp of disgrace

-and keeping that in mind he is frazzled why are you doing a job like that

'You are a shame barer?'

'Shame-what...? Thor! I'm not. The show is a disgrace to the tattoo world.'

'Shame~~barer~~~'

'Just come with me and spend one day and see it for yourself.'

-Thor is reluctant much to his words but still, you sat him down in the waiting lobby he chats up the customers a.k.a big muscular dudes that are already tattooed from the neck down

'So... what is your shame? What horrible deed have you done to come here?'

'Excuse me!?'

'You must be here to condemn your shame by immortalizing it with a flesh sticker.'

-at this point, the muscle dude stood up ready to attack Thor but you intervene quickly

'Marc, stop!'

-the man turned around hiding his tight fist behind his back

'Y/n, already done? That's fast.'

'Marc, you know that you were released 7 months ago and you are still on parole. Come on. Stop it.'

'He insulted me and-and my tattoos. Your tattoos. You know how am about your work.'

-Thor hears that as stands up grabbing Marc's arm examining the tattoos in amazement

'My darling, I want that felsh sticker as he has.'

'.......... Sure........ Wait here. Let's go, Marc. I need to vent.'

Steve Rogers

-Steve knows what tattoos are since he has seen the stick and poke of his fellow soldiers but never a photorealistic tattoo in your portfolio

-he is very much intrigued how you made that look like a real person on someone's skin knowing very well there is no eraser

-loves to ask how do you achieve such colors that simply jump out or how you make a fabric that of a shirt or some patterns, he is armed with questions

-and since he is an art wizard himself he loves to have a painting duel with you, you paint on his skin with watercolors and he paints on the canvas

-that's one of his favorite moments

'What did you draw?'

'A dolphin kissing a penguin.'

'What?!'

'Just kidding I painted the building in Brooklyn where you lived.'

'Did I tell you how much I love you?'

Bucky Barnes

-this man thrives to see you fulfill your dream and passion

-especially when he picks you up, he parks the car exiting it and walking in seeing you talk to your employees and customers exchanging stories and laughs even though in the near distance is the buzzing sounds of the machine guns

-you see him and grab his hand giving him a peck on his lips as a cheeky grin is stuck on his face

-as you talk about your day he always asks the question

'Were there any wusses?'

-alluding to men who cried out form the stinging pain, eventually tapping out to take a break

'Yes, a big dude Marc. Ordered a neck tattoo with details. Tapped out in 15 minutes.'

'I knew it!'

-he enjoys in the hilarious stories you can make up... I mean tell

Bruce Wayne

-you already know the drill he has money he will give it to you but politely delined

-he tried to help with purest of heart but still, the answer was no

-he loved to see your shop filled with many customers as he walked incognito, sunglasses and a cap saying he wasn't a private appointment with the head tattooer

-Let's just say you were pretty much in tears of laughter as he reveled his face

'At least you tried, Bruce.'

-he loves to talk about tattoos and the process of healing if it's on top of a scar

-you are hooked on the conversation and even make him some sketches

'A huge dragon on your back with black and gold lining.'

'Okay but how about initials of my parents?'

'That sounds... Better much much better.'

-so the day of his tattooing comes you tattoo in his inner arm putting the letter T. & M. W.

'Thank you Princess.'

Clark Kent

-Clark loves to see the vast tattoos so much that he wants one but he knows that his body will "absorb" the tattoo too fast making it disappear in a few months maybe weeks

-but still, he loves to see how your gaze is sharp focused on the tattooing even when HE walks that is how much you are focused

'Alrighty, Marc you are done.'

'Thanks, Y/n, you are the best.'

-Clark also loves to hear the influx of comments of your artistry even if he's a little jealous

-he loves to see just how much you are happier to follow this insane passion

'You are an inspiration Y/n.'

'Why?'

'Because... You just are.'

Arthur Curry

-you already know that Fishman is tatted to perfection and he is here for a tattoo lover as well

-if you ever have someone asking for a Maori style tattoo Arthur will be a fair judge, that's what he says

Case#1

'Why do you want a Maori tattoo?'

'Um, sir beca-'

'It's Mr. Aquaman. Continue.'

'Oh, sorry. Mr. Aquaman, I want it because I find them cool.'

'Just cool? Do you think that the abundant culture of Maori people is cool? Go home boy.

Case #2

'You want a Ta Moko? Do you what that is?'

'Sur-sure, it's a tattoo of the Maori people.'

'Ufff... Do you know how much of a meaning Ta Moko carries? Why don't you go to the Yakuzas and get a tebori.'

'They would kill me.'

'Of course, and I'll whoop your uncultured ass with my two hands.'

-you turned to the now pale boy

'Run.'

-the man ran like the wind as the Aquaman caught him easily giving him a cultural lesson of Ta Moko

Orm Marius

-he kinda has a small soft spot for tattoos especially those with a loving meaning lover, family...

-and he likes to "inform himself" about it so he asks a ton of questions even asking what kind of tattoo would suit him

'I think a small red tattoo would suit your taste.'

'I like the tattoos who can hold audios.'

-with that sentence, he left you frazzled as you google and got the special ink kit gifting it to Orm as a present for being a nice guy and not killing anyone

-he immediately records his audio in secrecy and handing you the ink

-after you tattoo the ink you hand him your phone with the app to scan the audio

'Hey, Orm. I'm just reminding you that I love you. So much. It's Y/n if you forget... Somehow.'

-later that day you doused him with kisses

Joker

-that man oozes with tattoos *cough*damaged*cough*

-and you can bet that he wants more of them he brings into your home the whole tattoo parlor just so he can have a private session with sex mixed in

-you gladly tattoo him patching up some of his tattoos he has outgrown them

'Why did you tattoo Kick Me on your back?'

'I won a bet.'

'Are you sure you won?'

'For sake of this question I did.'

-you cover the kick me tattoo with a large red dragon with green eyes

-he stands up looking at the tattoo in the mirror

'Sweets, you just got a huge tip.'

Duncan Vizla

-for him, tattoo nowadays are dumb in his time tattoos were means of solidarity with people who are bounded by the same ink and gun

-but keeps his mouth shut about it not to offend your dream even if it's tattooing dancing hotdogs

-he loves to pass your parlor when he finishes grocery shopping just to see you in action

-he loves to arrive at the parlor if you are doing a night shift just to keep you safe and in good company

-he loves to bring you lunch and watch you eat it with such content and happiness

-it melts his heart and just wants to make you more food

-but as he is present for the good he is here for the bad

-if he is somewhere anywhere you just need to call him and he is there in a minute be it a drunken person not wanting to exit or an aggressive man trying to grope someone in the shop

-he is ready to kill them if you say so

'You okay sweetheart?'

'Um-yeah...Thank you Donut.'

'Nonsense. That's my duty.'

#victor creed imagine #victor creed x reader #loki x reader #Loki laufeyson imagine #thor imagine #thor odinson x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bruce wayne x reader #clark kent imagine #superman imagine #joker imagine #duncan vizla imagine #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla #polar imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #dc imagine #justice leauge x reader #justice leauge imagine #orm marius imagine #aquaman x reader #batman imagine #netflix headcanon #xmen headcanon #avengers headcanon #sabertooth imagine #batman x reader #tattoo au

[queenismyprimejive]

This storm too shall pass – 80s Roger Taylor x Fem! Reader – Part 2

Synopsis: After a huge fight with Roger, reader contemplates whether her relationship with Roger has any success at all. For her sake it has to, because the secret she’s been keeping from him will surely change the future for both of them. Luckily, Freddie is there to bring some calm after the storm.

W/C:2,076

Perspective: You-perspective, reader-insert, use of Y/N. I plan on putting this in each of my future fics, just because I tend to switch between the two perspectives in writing.

Warnings: Nothing really serious. Some swearwords mentions of implied pregnancy. Overall fluff, drama, angst, the usual.

A/N: None.

Tagging:

@joeneslee​

@hodgepodge-of-rog​

@ceres27​

@queen-paladin​

@march-of-all-queens

@jennyggggrrr​

@rhapsodyrecs

“Pregnant….. are you sure?”, Freddie asked slowly as he watched me pacing around his living room, trying to make sense of the situation.

You looked at Freddie in exasperation. “No Fred I’m not at all sure, why else would I say I think I’m pregnant?”, I fired back, not caring at all how frustrated I sounded.

“So that is why you didn’t want Roger smoking in the house”, Freddie concluded, not at all fazed by my small outburst.

You stopped pacing around and focussed your attention on Freddie, letting out small breaths of air in an attempt to calm yourself down. You nodded slowly as you plopped back onto the couch.

“For how long have you felt like this?”

You stayed quiet for a few minutes because you weren't sure if you had to tell Fred everything in detail.

“You know you can tell me anything…. right love”, Freddie said, as if he sensed my hesitation to open up to him, “I’m not grossed out by the female body”.

You raised an eyebrow at him and promptly burst out laughing.

“I’m not grossed out by pregnant women”, Freddie clarified as he laughed along with me. “Come on, shoot”.

“Well, I guess I felt it a couple of weeks ago. My period comes fairly regularly, it changes by one or two days….. but when it stayed off for almost two weeks I was beginning to worry. Plus, everything feels different Fred, more sensitive I mean, and I feel queasy in the morning…. All the signs are there Fred”, you continued on.

All the while Fred remained silent, intently listening to your story.

“Fred…. I’m scared”, you said with watery eyes.

“Oh darling”, Freddie said sympathetically as he enveloped you in a tight hug, “everything is gonna be fine you’ll see. Why didn’t you tell Roger why you were struggling with this?”

“Because….”, you sniffled, “If I told him I suspected I was pregnant, and I turned out not be, he’d be disappointed in me, and if I turned out to be pregnant and he didn’t want the child I’d lose him anyways”.

“Don’t think so little of yourself Y/N”, Freddie tutted, “the man worships the ground you walk on, better yet, if the opportunity would arise, he’d probably commit murder for you, and knowing Roger, he’d actually be capable of doing so”.

You chuckled as you wiped a few stray tears away with your sleeve, “yeah that’s probably true”.

“And”, Freddie continued, “he’d want nothing more than to start a family, he told me so himself”.

“Really?”, you were a little surprise you heard him say that, since Roger never explicitly told you so himself.

Freddie nodded in confirmation, “Really love, and what if you really turned out to be pregnant Y/N, how would you feel about that?”

You lovingly placed a hand on your still flat belly, “I’d want nothing more than to start a family with Roger, I just…. I just don’t know what to do”.

“That’s what I’m here for darling, don’t you worry about a think, so here what’s we’ll do”.

You breathed a sigh of relief; Freddie always had a way with words, words that could always calm you down.

“First, I’ll have someone pick up some pregnancy tests for you, just to be sure. Then in the morning we’ll make an appointment with your doctor, and in the meantime I’ll call the guys to see if they can locate that stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend of yours, how does that sound?”

“That sounds good Fred, thank you….. for everything”

He dismissed your words of gratitude with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense darling, Roger is my friend and so are you, it’s the very least I could do”.

You felt a fresh wave of tears coming up, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

“Be right back darling”.

“Freddie?”, you asked softly as he was halfway through the door.

“Yes darling?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

Of course, you can Y/N, you can stay here any time”.

As Freddie left the room you gazed down at your belly and smiled softly to yourself. For the first time this whole ordeal started, you finally felt everything going in the right direction.

Less than an hour later you found yourself sitting on the couch again with Freddie, with three different pregnancy tests in front the two of you on the coffee table. You were relatively calm at first but now, in anticipation of the result, you couldn’t keep your nervous jitters to yourself anymore. You glanced sideways at Freddie and caught his gaze filled with barely concealed amusement.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I think it is time to look darling”.

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in, but you couldn’t get yourself to look at the tests in front of you, because if you did, it would all become real and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

“You look for me Fred, I can’t…. I can’t look, you do it”.

All right darling, want me to tell you if they’re positive or not?”

“You can tell me anything as long as I don’t have to look at them”.

You turned your head away and waited anxiously until Fred had taken a look at the test.

When he didn’t immediately say anything, you were beginning to worry if there was something wrong, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Well darling”, Freddie spoke up, “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“What?”, you exclaimed as you looked up from your lap at Fred, who at this point looked like he couldn’t contain himself.

Well, look for yourself darling”, he grinned and placed the three tests in the palm of your hand. You tried to summon up all the courage before looking at the tests you were holding firmly in your hand. And indeed, Fred was right, on all three tests you could see two noticeably clear lines.

“I’m pregnant”, you whispered softly, mostly to yourself. The reality of it all had yet to sink in. Your lip was wobbling a little and different emotions were swirling through your mind, however, happiness prevailed.

“I’m pregnant Fred”, you said again, smiling, but this time you couldn't hold back the tears of joy. You looked up at him and he was also grinning widely, but you saw he too was sporting a few tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Congratulations darling, I am so happy for you”, he exclaimed and once again he enveloped you in a tight hug.

Thanks Fred”, you whispered into his chest as you hugged him back.

Moments later he pulled away, saw your tears, and wiped them away with his thumb. “But are you happy darling?”.

You nodded. “Yes Fred, I’m happy, it just needs to sink in….. that’s all”.

“So, do you still want to go to the doctor’s office tomorrow? I mean it’s quite positive already but….”

“Yeah I still gonna go to get a check-up, just to be absolutely sure, you know?’

“Of course, darling, I’ll go with you”, he said as he softly squeezed your hand.

Distantly, you heard a phone ring, but you payed no attention to it. Freddie however jumped up at the sound. “That might be Brian or John calling about Roger’s whereabouts. I have to take this call, be right back”.

As Freddie left the room once more you slowly sagged back into the couch. The argument you had with Roger earlier this evening had been forgotten, and the sadness over that argument had made place for something else, nerves and excitement from how you were going to tell Roger about your pregnancy, and whether he’d accept it.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Freddie re-entering the room. He looked slightly out of breath.  “Well…. that was Brian”, he started, “thankfully Roger is fairly predictable, so they found him in one of his to-go-to clubs,. He was drunk and high on something else than adrenaline so they’ve taken him home so he cannot do anything stupid in the meantime, and they’ll try and sober him up as quickly as possible.”

‘Well that’s something at least….”, you started.

“No worries love”, Freddie said, “Brian and John have more than enough experience in sobering Roger up, you just get some rest and we’ll talk about it all tomorrow, you’ll see, it will all turn out fine”.

The next morning you found yourself in the examination room of the doctor’s office, anxiously awaiting your results. You had convinced Freddie not to come into the doctor’s office with you, figuring he would draw a little too much attention to himself, so instead he remained in the car with Jim until you were ready to go home, back to Roger.

The doctor re-entering the room pulled you away from your musings.

“Well congratulations miss Y/N L/N, you most certainly are pregnant I’d say about 7 or 8 weeks right now, do you wish to see the ultrasound?”

You nodded vigorously and he gave you the black and white picture and showed you where exactly too look; you could barely contain your happiness at this point.

“So, is everything ok doc?”, you asked.

“Well there isn’t much to see at this point, but everything is looking good so far. I do suggest you to be careful as there still is a higher rate of miscarriage in the early stages of pregnancy. I suggest another check-up in about a month but for now you are good to go”.

 Clutching your purse which held the ultrasound pictures, you felt your nerves spike up as Jim turned into your street and parked the car a little further down the street from Roger’s and yours place.

Freddie turned around in his seat and grasped your hand in his.

“Are you going to be ok Y/N? If you need anything don’t hesitate to call all right?”

“I won’t Fred thank you, and thank you too Jim, I know I haven’t exactly been kind you these days”.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N”, he said, “I’m only glad I could be of help”.

 As you watched them drive away you made the way towards your front door. You took one final breath of air before you turned the key in the lock.

When you first opened the door you heard nothing, but then you heard the shuffling of footsteps coming from the living room, and a while later the figure of a man you knew very well appeared in the doorway.

His hare was still wet from the shower, so he looked relatively freshened up, however, his bloodshot blue eyes and the bags beneath them betrayed what he had gotten up to last night.

“Y/N”, he breathed out; he looked positively relieved.

You smiled softly at him. “Hey Rog”.

You weren’t sure what to say next, but when you looked up at Roger and caught him looking away, he didn’t know what to say either.

“Listen Y/N, love, I’m sorry about last night I….”

“Don’t worry Rog, you’re forgiven, but we do need to talk”.

When you noticed the fear in his eyes you thought he assumed you were breaking up with him so in order to erase that thought from his mind you closed the distance between the two of you and carefully grabbed his hand in yours, and for a moment you revelled in how good it felt to be close to him again.

“I’m not breaking up with you Rog, don’t worry, but I do have something important to tell you”.

Visibly relieved he carefully tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “What then love?”

“You might want to sit down for this Rog”, you said as you led him towards your living room.

As you sat down on the couch opposite of Roger he grasped your hands in his and rubbed slow circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. Your heart pounded in your throat, you were nervous, so nervous, but you had to get it out of your system.

“What’s wrong love?”, Roger asked, and you looked up at him, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“Nothing’s wrong Rog, I’m just a little scared.”

“Scared about what?”

“About how you’re gonna react.”

“React? To what?”, he looked confused.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. It really was now or never.

“Rog…. I’m pregnant.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #femke writes things #part 2 #angst #80s roger

[the-weeping-author]

Can’t lose you.

This was a request from @phoebethepheebs

Request: Can you do Steve Harrington x Reader. Where it’s the battle of Star Court Mall and the reader almost dies and Steve is a panicky boi.(The drugs are worn off at this point)

Warnings: cussing, blood, broken bones, death, season 3 spoilers.

A/N: hey guys this will be my first AU so not everything will be spot on with what happened in the show so sorry, my request are open so feel free.

Word count: 1,510

Also thanks ahoy-stevieboy and thehair-harrington for the help with this request!! ❤️❤️

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @galactic-kitten-nonsense @linkispink1995 @theworldisugly-22 @harringtown @spiritsent

@ahoy-stevieboy helped me with this so thank youuu so much!! ❤️❤️

(Please don’t copy my fics and use them as your own please.)

Please enjoy 😌

I was currently in the Starcourt mall with the party along with Robin and my best friend. I have no idea how or when I ended up here but I was here.

The splitting headache made it almost unbearable to keep focus, the left side of my side hurt, my ears ringing like a bomb went off right near me.

I had to worry about that later right now El’s life depended on us, I refuse to let her or anyone else down.

We were currently throwing fireworks at the Mind Flayer El was currently on the main floor of the mall with Billy along with the mind flayer.

I noticed that we were running low on fireworks and soon our idea was going to flop, Steve was across the way with Johnathan and Nancy while I was throwing with Robin.

I looked at robin then grabbed her wrist.

“Hey Robin we are running low on fireworks.”

She looked at me when she tossed the one in her hand.

“Yeah Y/N I know they need to hurry up or we are all fucked.”

She had a point, my attention looking towards the mind flayer then flashing to everyone. I knew exactly what I had to do.

“Robin take care of Steve for me please.”

Before she could respond I stood up running towards the stairs. I bolted down there with a firework in my hand.

There was a small voice telling me to turn back, I tuned that voice out seeing billy, El and the mind flayer’s legs come into view.

I continued walking until I was about 15 feet away I pulled out my lighter holding it near the wick lighting it. then I got closer so I could get a clear shot at it, I pulled my arm back getting ready to throw it then I looked at El then at the mind flayer.

“Eat this mother fucker.”

I quickly tossed the firework near it, instantly it exploded. The Mind Flayer let out a shriek taking a few steps back, everything immediately went black.

*Steves pov*

There were only a few fireworks left in the bin, panic set into everyone. I was worried about everyone, how could I keep them safe if this didn’t work?

Most importantly how can I keep Y/N safe? When I looked across the way towards Robin I noticed Y/N wasn’t with her, on the spot relief washed over me.

“Good she got out of here.”

I thought to myself as I lit another firework tossing it over the ledge. As Lucas threw the last firework at the Mind Flayer I felt nauseous.

We all ran to the railing on the ledge looking as Billy stood up standing in place, the mind flayer's mouth opened slowly.

Mike and Max ran stopping as soon as they saw Billy, shock showed on their face I think we were all shocked honestly.

As the mind flayer’s little tentacle thing shot out of its mouth Billy stopped it, fighting back everyone was frozen, even El.

Six more tentacles came from the sides of the mind flayer shooting into billy, Dustin coming loud and clear over the walkie talkie.

“CLOSE IT NOW, CLOSE IT.”

Billy let out a yell then the tentacle from the mind flayer’s mouth went into Billy’s chest, then out letting his body fall to the ground covered in blood.

“BILLY!” Max yelled tears filled her eyes.

Then the mind flayer let out a noise while stumbling around, running into the railing Johnathan, Nancy and I were then just dropped to the floor.

I felt relaxed now robin walking over to us.

“Robin it’s done we beat it.”

She smiled sympathetically at me.

“Y-yeah we did.”

I felt uneasy she was keeping something from me.

“Robin, why do you look like that you should be happy.”

“W-well Steve it’s about Y/N.”

I looked at her.

“Yeah I’m glad she got out of here she could have ended up hurt.”

Her gaze left mine falling to the floor, that nauseous feeling came back.

“Robin what happened? What happened to Y/N?”

She wouldn’t say anything, I felt tears prickling at the corner of my eyes. I grabbed both her shoulders.

“Robin where’s Y/N? What happened to her?”

“S-She went down there to distract that thing last I saw was it hit her, then I didn’t see her anymore.”

My heart dropped to the floor, Worry settling into my body. I let my hands fall off her shoulder then she looked up at me.

“She told me to take care of you for her.”

The more she talked the more I felt a sob coming along.

I turned away from her then I rushed down the stairs.

“Y/N!! Y/N please answer me.”

When I reached the bottom mike pointed.

“She’s over there Steve.”

My head snapped toward him then followed where he was pointing. My gaze followed where he was pointing, then my eyes went wide. There you were laying there not moving it didn’t look like you were breathing either.

*No ones pov*

Steve ran over to You, lifting your head on his lap he shook you by your shoulders.

“Y/N come on please.”

Nothing

He let tears stream down his face.

“Y/N please come back to me you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay we just gotta get help.”

Again nothing.

He put his forehead against yours and started sobbing as best as he could with an eye swollen shut.

“God damn it Y/N you’re the only girl I have in my life, you’re the only one who I can depend on, the only one who makes me feel like a million bucks, the girl I’m in love you can’t just leave me.”

Again nothing.

The party, Johnathan, Robin and Nancy walked over to Steve and you.

“Steve come on we have to get outside.”

He smacked Mike's hand off his shoulder.

“Get off me, I’m not leaving her here.”

“Steve come on she’s gone we have to go.”

He sniffled letting more tears fall.

“She c-can’t be I love her, she can’t leave me.”

Nancy started crying at Steve’s desperation he sounded so broken. Johnathan, Mike and robin grabbed his arms pulling him up.

He thrashed against their hold.

“G-Get the fuck off me, I’m not leaving her I can’t leave her.”

They tightened their grip on him slowly turning him around. Him struggling against their grip. As they started walking away a noise stopped them.

*Your pov*

When I came too I started coughing and gasping for air. My lungs felt like they were on fire, if I thought my headache was bad before nothing has ever compared to the headache I had now.

When I opened my eyes I saw Steve’s face I smiled softly.

“Hi.”

He wrapped his arms around my neck and cried into me.

“Y-Y/N I thought I lost you.”

I wrapped my arm around him while my fingers found his hair.

“As much as I love feeling you body heat can we please get out of here?”

He pulled away and nodded as fast as his head would let him.

“Y-yes of course.”

He picked me up so softly I knew it was because he thought he was going to break me. Then he looked at me.

“When I bend down jump on my back only if you can.”

I nodded as he turned around and bent his knees, I jumped on his back no matter how bad my side was hurting.

He carried me all the way outside, when we went out to the parking lot there were helicopters, ambulances, cop cars and fire trucks. The medics immediately took everyone to different vehicles.

Steve’s eyes wouldn’t leave me as they checked me out. I had a concussion and a broken ribs. They told Steve he had a concussion along with some bruised ribs.

After they finished they went to check others out, Steve grabbed my hand.

“Hey Y/N when we were in there I was so scared-“

“Sh sh sh Steve I’m okay don't worry about me going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”

He let out a light chuckle.

“How can I not worry about you when I’m in love with you?”

My breath hitches and my eyes widened.

“Steve-“

“I know it’s okay that you don’t feel the same way I just wanted you to know.”

I grabbed his hand then kissed his cheek.

“I’m in love with you too dork.”

He smiled brightly at me then put his head on my shoulder, I followed his action just letting the past 24 hours sink in.

“Hey Y/N?”

I pulled my head away and looked at him.

“Yes Steve?”

“May I kiss you?”

He asked, waiting for my answer. I leaned close to him connecting our lips. I didn’t know if this was completed over but all I knew was that as long as Steve and I were together nothing could stop us.

A/N: hey guys thanks for reading I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did, Mores coming in posting one more one shot soon then chapter three will be out so keep an eye out thank you guys for supporting me and liking my stuff. ❤️

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