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hangmansgbaby · 4 months

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Gunpowder & Lead P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

Emory's POV is written by @mamachasesmayhem and Jake's POV is written by me.

Banners are POV changers.

"I can't do this anymore, Matt. I'm leaving." The words leave my mouth with only a slight tremble.

Matt barks out a laugh. "What was that, baby?"

I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. "I'm leaving."

"The fuck you are!"

Matt's statement is punctuated with a fierce blow to my cheek, knocking me sideways.

I thought that his recent lack of interest in me would have made this easier. I thought that maybe he was finally tired of me, that maybe he wouldn't care as much when I tried to leave. Clearly, I was wrong.

A kick lands on my ribs after I land on the floor, followed by a few more. I try to no avail to block them, only earning bruises and likely more fractures to my arms. He grips my hair to pull me up only to slam my head into the floor. My head spins as I feel blood pool beneath me. I'm barely conscious when he finally decides to stop, probably thinking I'm down for the count. I hear him grab hiskeys from their hook by the door but when I catch a glimpse of the hooks I realize it wasn't just his that he took, but mine too. Shit, that makes this more difficult. His stupid ass Camero revs in the driveway and the sound of his tires peeling fills the small house. I fight to stay conscious because I can do this.

I don't know how much time has passed when I pull every ounce of will and strength in my body and finally crawl onto my hands and knees.

I can do this.

It could have been minutes or hours since Matt left, so I don't waste a second.

I can do this.

I stumble out of the door and adrenaline floods my nervous system.

I can do this.

My bare feet carry me across the pavement and then through the woods across from the house. It'll hurt like hell later, but it's much shorter to cut through them to get to Birdie's house. This is a route I've memorized, having to sneak out to see my best friend when Matt eventually stopped allowing it. I can get there with my eyes closed, and it's entirely possible I do.

I eventually break through the tree line and push past the pain that's threatening to overwhelm my body. The light to the back porch is on, drawing me near like a lighthouse to the coast, and I stumble the last few steps to the door. I fall against the cool wood in a heap, frantically pounding my fist against it as darkness clouds my vision. The door opens underneath me and I let it take over, finally able to rest.

It's warm when I come to, a gentle voice rousing me. "Sweets, can you hear me? Shit, Jav! She's breathing and has a pulse but she's not responding to me."

I groan and try to peel my eyes open. That voice definitely does not belong to Birdie. It's not her husband Bob either, and that's what startled me enough to fully return my brain to my body. My eyes land on a face surely carved by Aphrodite herself.

"Am I dead?" I mutter out. With a chiseled jaw and concern swimming in mossy green eyes staring down at me, I must be. Especially if I'm not scrambling to get away from a man that isn't Bob Floyd. But a tiny voice in my head tells me that he's safe and that he won't hurt me, so I let myself listen to it.

A small smile pulls at the lips of the man above me. "No, sweets. You're alive, it looks like you fought real hard to be too. How'd you end up here?"

The realization I didn't make it to Birdie's makes me gasp and try to sit up. "I was trying to get to Birdie's house, where I am?!"

I notice I'm cradled in his lap when his arms tighten around me in an attempt to keep me from jostling the multiple injuries I'm sure I have. "Easy, I got you. Birdie Floyd? She's right next door, you almost made it. Just a hundred feet short."

A voice crackles through his phone, clearly on speaker given that I can hear it so clearly. "I'm about 3 minutes out, Jake. What's going on?"

"She's awake, Javy. I think I can manage until you get here, but I'll keep you on the phone just in case."

He turns to me and I can hear sirens in the background of the call. "I'm Officer Jake Seresin and on the phone is my best friend Javy Machado, he's a paramedic. He's working tonight and I called him the second I opened the door, he and his partner are on the way to come look at ya, ok?" My nod prompts him to continue. "I can go get Bob and Birdie if you want?"

"No!" I yelp. "Please don't leave me alone! H-he might show up..."

"It's ok, pretty girl. I got you, I won't leave you alone. You're safe with me." His voice is calm, soothing. "Even though I'm off duty, I called in some backup. I don't want ya worryin' when you hear the sirens and see the lights here shortly."

His thumb rubs small circles on my upper arm as red and blue fill the night sky.

Jake carries me outside to meet the paramedics and I can hear Birdie from across the yard.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes scan the scene and finally land on me and she immediately runs to me."Emory! Oh, honey! What did he do to you this time?" She starts sobbing as her hand gently traces my swollen cheek. "How'd you find her, Jake?"

"She found me. She knocked on my door thinking it was yours." His chin tips up in acknowledgment when Bob joins his wife. "Hey, Floyd. Javy just rolled up and called in some backup."

No sooner than the words leave his mouth, a tall man with a mocha complexion hops out of the ambulance and rushes over. Jake reluctantly lets me go and nods at me as Javy takes over and lays me on a stretcher. As he's taking inventory of my injuries and rolling me to the ambulance, I hear Jake talking to Bob.

"Where's the fucker that did this to her?"

"If he's not at home, he's at The Den." Bob replies, anger clear in his voice.

Jake climbs up the step into the ambulance, just beside Birdie and reaches out and gently squeezes my hand. "Javy's the best there is, you're in good hands. I'm gonna go get the sad excuse of a man that did this to you and he's gonna go rot in a cell."

Tears well in my eyes as relief washes over me. "Thank you, Jake."

Jake did as he promised, immediately arresting Matt and tossing him in jail. After confirming I did, in fact, end up with new fractures in my arm, a concussion, and severely bruised ribs I returned to work about a week after I may have been sporting a neon pink cast, fading bruises on my face, and stitches in my lip, but I'd never been happier.

The trial officially concluded and Jake was there by my side through the entire thing, volunteering to be my personal protection detail.

6 months later

Jake had walked through the door of Cora's, the bakery Birdie and I have been working at since we were undergraduates at UT Austin. Once the recognition hit me, I gasped. "It's you."

His smile was soft, almost shy, as he blushed. "It's me."

"You saved me, l-I don't have enough words for how thankful I am for you."

Thankfully, he dropped in during a slower time so my rambling isn't holding up other customers.

Jake reaches up and rubs the back of his neck as he looks down. "I'd like to think it's what anyone would do, having sworn an oath to protect and serve and all."

I take the time to finally observe what he's wearing, and he looks damn good in his uniform, before smiling up at him. "Well, take your pick officer. Anything you want is on the house. For as long as I work here."

After that day, he made it a habit to stop in at some point during his shift for coffee and a pastry if he was feeling particularly cheeky. "The coffee's always been free to the boys in blue, I can't take advantage of your kindness all the time, Sweets." He'd told me.

And eventually Jake asked me out. "I know you were in a terrible relationship before, so if this is too forward, stop me. But now that it's not a conflict of interest, how do you feel about dinner with me?"

"Dinner sounds amazing." I'd told him with a wide smile and his quickly matched my own.

From that day forward, we'd been nearly inseparable. With his support, I'd finally caught up with Birdie and finished my MBA. While in school, I met the little spitfire named Adalaide Blake. She had been in her final semester of law school and studying to pass the BAR exam. She quickly became close to Birdie and I and we've been thick as thieves since.

Honoring the promise she made to a couple of 19 year old kids, Cora, the owner of the bakery, turned it over into our capable hands and retired. Cora was the grandma I had always wanted. She took me in when I had nothing and loved Birdie and I as her own. Not long after we took over, Matt was released from prison. Jake had delivered the unfortunate news after plying me with ice cream and tequila a few days before our one year anniversary. He promised to keep me safe and asked me to move in with him. We'd discussed it more the next morning when I was sober and he assured me his reasoning was more than just keeping me safe, he wanted me as part of his every day routine.

Within a few months of my moving in, I helped Jake study for and pass his detective's test. He soon promoted and we celebrated by christening the new home for the bakery. The new location included a large, secure basement with the intention of housing abused women and children. Thanks to Jake, the rest of his squadron at the department, and connections they've made through the years, the changes weren't made public knowledge.

There was a caveat that Jake wasn't aware of: Birdie, Addie, and I had been planning something. While we were absolutely making the new construction a safe haven, we also wanted to find a way to make sure men like Matt didn't ruin any more lives. We realized we could make that happen thanks to the combined knowledge of my studying with Jake for the detective test, Birdie hearing all the stories from Bob about work, and Addie having spent a few years as a defense attorney, we could do it. Birdie had the idea to open a secret speakeasy that would be a way for us to meet with potential women who needed help. The brave souls who sought our help were instructed to ask for a pomegranate scone, which was not sold in the bakery. They were instead provided with a time to meet back here at the speakeasy that we named "The Underworld."

Over the next 2 years, we caught cheaters, helped mothers get sole custody of their children, returned money stolen by swindling slimeballs, and rescued women and children from abusive homes. Along the way, we'd made some new friends and became known as The Furies. The Furies consisted of a team of powerful, badass women who shared the same mindset as us. We also made some new enemies...one of them being the Austin PD. A task force was born to stop the ring of vigilantes, and the most ironic part of it all is that many of the Furies have a personal connection to a member of the task force. For me it was Jake. The man of my dreams and love of my life, had taken on the lead. He had risen through the ranks quickly, finding himself on many cases involving the work of the Furies. With his extensive knowledge, it was a no brainer for the department that he be the commanding officer. Even Birdie’s husband volunteered to be the CSI Specialist for the task force.

Jake and I were almost 4 years into our relationship when my ruse was finally up. I had successfully kept the two facets of my life separate until that fateful night.

We had been running a sting on a local biker gang known for human trafficking, Demeter and I had been at The Den while trying to sneak our way into the back by posing as "entertainment" for the club. Apparently, one of the guys there that night had known Matt and therefore knew who I was. That's when shit hit the fan. While I'd been training extensively with Jake in MMA classes and with our ex-military friend learning to evade capture, one me against five men was no match. I'd learned how to take a hit with minimal damage and that was my saving grace. With my ass thoroughly beaten, I once again found myself stumbling through the dense woods that lead to Bob and Birdie's house. Leaning against the doorframe, my knuckles rap against the wood for her to come usher me inside and help me get patched up.

If my right eye wasn't swollen shut, I might have noticed that the door was a deep blue I'd personally picked out instead of the dark maroon I was expecting. The door opens and I don't even look up before I start talking.

"I'm an idiot, I know. Might need to call someone though, I think one of those fuckers broke my nose," I whine.

"Emory? What the fuck?!" A deep voice bellows from the open door.

I look up and my eyes make contact with very angry looking green ones. "Aw shit, wrong door again."

"What the actual fuck, Em? Get inside." I try to usher her in but she takes a step back.

"No, I'm gonna pretend this didn't happen and walk over to Birdie's." Emory tried to walk away but I reached out and snatched her hand. "Jake what are you -? Ow ow, fine, I'll go, just let go of me."

I let go and she pulled on her hand to get rid of the feeling. I could see the war in her one good eye as she reluctantly followed me inside. I led her into the kitchen, lifting her up onto the island before moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. I silently began working on cleaning up the blood on her face before moving down to see if there are other wounds to treat.

"It's just my nose." She mutters and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding as I check on her nose. It wasn't broken thankfully and it didn't look like she was going to have a concussion either so I was able to relax a little.

"Well it doesn't look broken." I sigh as I move to grab an ice pack from the freezer. "Just need some ice and you'll keep your gorgeous face in perfect condition." She gives me an unimpressed glance as I hold out the ice pack to show her how serious I am about fixing her nose. She grabs it and gingerly presses it against the bridge of her nose.

The air around us was thick as we sat in silence. I took the time to really take her in: the way her hair is still messy and her eyes are still slightly swollen, the bridge of her nose was red and she was sure to have bruising around her eyes tomorrow. I could tell by the way she stared at the tiled floor of our kitchen that she was in her mind. She was supposed to be at the bakery all night, and now she's showing up at my door bloody, again. I'm just about to say something when she speaks up.

"So I guess I gotta explain why we're having a deja vu episode."

"That would be nice." I say with a deep sigh. "But I'd rather make sure you are okay."

"I'm fine. I'd like to explain it all now, rather than later." Her voice sounded strained and for someone who was usually so confident, that was saying something. "Okay, shoot."

She takes a deep breath before she starts. "I would like to state that if you never wanna see or speak to me again after you hear all this I completely understand, because it's a lot and you're probably gonna hate me afterwards and—"

"Em, please, stop." I cut her off, unable to deal with any more of her self deprecating rambling. "We're gonna have to get married before you continue so I can claim marital privilege."

"Wait, really?" She drops the ice pack to the counter as her eyes widen at my words. We've only just recently started talking about marriage being an option because I wanted to wait for her to be ready for it. "Seriously? You wanna marry me before I tell you all this?"

"Really, sweets." I smile, reaching out to cup her cheeks. "I love you and nothing could ever make me hate you! Shit, you could be the fucking leader of the Furies and I would still only see my Emory. I even have a ring upstairs."

"No you don't." She chuckles nervously.

"Oh, I do, trust me." I lean towards her and place a small kiss on her lips. They're chapped but warm. She leans forward as well, tilting her head slightly. We pull apart with a soft chuckle.

"So should we get you that ring and then go tell Bob and Birdie?" I smile.

"Yeah. Yeah I think we should." She nods before looking back at me. "You wanna help me clean up?" I laugh as I grab a washcloth to clean up the rest of the blood.

Once she was cleaned up and changed into some new clothes, we made our way across the shared yard to the Floyd household.

"I doubt they're even still up." Emory mutters as I knock on the door. "I mean seriously, it's 4 am. They wouldn't still be up, would they?"

"Not that I can tell." I frown and look back toward Em. "Let's see." We both peer inside the house through a window and we both see that the lights are still on, albeit dimly. Suddenly, the door opens to reveal Bob, his eyes already tired and his glasses fogged up from sleep. His hair was rumpled as if he had been running his hands through as his vision focused on us.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here so late?"

"We need to talk to you guys." I answer as Emory nods.

"About what?" The tone in his voice indicates that he isn't buying into anything. He's definitely suspicious of us.

"Nothing important." I lie and Emory quickly steps in.

"But you should go get Birdie."

"If it's enough for the both of you to interrupt mine and Birdie's sleep schedules, then it is important." Bob sighs, "Come on in." He gestures us in before locking the door and heading towards his bedroom where Birdie was surely sound asleep.

It's a few minutes before we hear the tell tale signs of Emory's best friend running down the hallway.

"Em! Are you okay?" The brunette girl drops beside her friend, checking her over for injuries. "Should I call…?"

"I'm fine Bird, everything is okay now." Em assures her and I could see Birdie's shoulders visibly relax before she reaches for a pillow.

"Then where the hell have you been?!" The brunette exclaims as she pulls away from her friend, hitting her with the decorative pillow. "I thought you were dead! There was always a chance you were in deep but what the hell?!"

"I'll explain everything later, but we need you to do something for us first." Emory smiles softly, pulling the pillow from Birdie's hands. Both Birdie and Bob look at us confused as I move to the seat next to Em.

"We're getting married tomorrow." I say.

"Oh." Bob answers shocked.

"Oh? Oh my god! Finally!" Birdie jumps up cheering. "Wait! Why tomorrow?"

"I might've fucked up on which door I knocked on again." Emory giggles. I laugh with her, Birdie just stares blankly at us before she speaks.

"So you're gonna...?"

"After the wedding, he wants marital privilege." Em answers.

"Oh well then by all means Mr. Seresin, dive in head first!" Birdie replies, laughing. "Break her heart after this, they won't find your body."

"I'm gonna kill you someday Birdie." Emory mumbles.

"No you won't." Birdie blows her a kiss. "Now you get the guest room." She says, pulling Emory from the couch and pushing her down the hall. "And you get to go home and sleep alone!" She says, looking at me.

"But..."

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Now get out of my house." Birdie ushers me towards the door.

"Ya know we could've done it in secret." I tell her.

"Then you'd be dead. Night Jake!" She smiles before closing her front door and locking it.

With that I turned, headed towards home. I felt slightly lightheaded and giddy; I couldn't believe it actually happened. I didn't feel scared or worried, but I guess I should have. I knew I loved Emory and nothing could change that, why would she even think that anything would? As I thought about these things walking through my front door, I glanced at the clock, noting the brightly shining 4:36 am. The courthouse opens at 8, sleeping now would only make us late so I walked to the living room and threw on the morning news.

Our wedding, although a simple one at the courthouse with only Bob and Birdie present was perfect. I never needed the fancy suit, the white gown, and the big wedding to prove that I loved her. Seeing her stand before me with the ring I've been holding onto for a year was more than enough. Bob and Birdie treated us to breakfast before heading back to their house. And then Emory tells me everything. And I mean everything.

I sit in shock on the loveseat as Em paces across the living room from me. Birdie's in the kitchen making drinks and Bob speaks up from his seat on the other couch.

"Well thank fuck someone else knows." He sighs, relaxing into his chair.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!" I shouted, turning to who I thought was my best friend. "You knew they were doing this?"

"Why else do you think there was never any definite trail linking them to any of the crimes? I've been busting my ass around the clock out here!" Bob defends. "Nat and I can't take it anymore!" Bob immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. My eyes widen, if possible, more than they already were.

"Nat knows?!"

"BOB!" Both Emory and Birdie shout.

"Am I the only one who didn't know?" I question, my eyes trailing between the girls.

"Uhhh, Jake. Let's talk more tomorrow after we've consummated our marriage and can't have it annulled." Em chuckles softly and I already know the answer. Everyone, everyone knew before me.

"Did everyone know before me?"

"At least Cyclone doesn't know. Especially about—" Bob is cut off again by his wife who's abandoned the drinks.

"Robert!"

"The dam is broken, Birdie. There's no turning back now!"

"I knew we should've let Psyche make him sign the NDA." Emory sighs, groaning as she drops into a seat.

"Well I figured he feared his wife more." Birdie shrugs.

"And I do!" Bob jumps up, trying to defend himself. "I don't fear jail because I know what you bunch are capable of."

"Robert Floyd! Did you only marry me cause you thought I'd kill you?!" Birdie shouts, turning to glare at her husband.

"No! I love you! I do!" Bob panics, trying to dig out of the hole he got himself in. "But I definitely don't wanna be on the receiving end of one of Em's special recipes."

"BOB!!!" Em, Birdie, and hell even I shouted at him, knowing that was definitely something he was not supposed to tell me.

"I'm gonna go shower now." Bob mutters, walking towards the master bedroom.

"I swear I'm gonna—"

"Let us leave before you go all Hera on his ass." Em laughs as she pulls me to the front door. I'm still processing everything she told me as we enter our home.

My girlfriend—my wife— is THE Persephone, the leader of the Furies. The woman who has been avoiding capture at my hand for years now. The love of my life is who I've been chasing this entire time. Holy shit.

"You okay over there?" Her voice drags me from my thoughts. I look up to see her staring at me expectantly.

"I'm okay, I think?"

"Are you asking me if you are okay?" She laughs, stepping up to me. Her hazel eyes still sparkle the way they always have, but especially since she now has the diamond ring I got paired with her now. This is still my Emory, not the known vigilante that I've been hunting for years.

"No. I'm okay." I smile at her.

"So... the handcuffs are still for in the bedroom and not for arresting me right?" She asks, smiling as she slowly pulls me towards our room. It's only then that I realize how painfully hard I am.

"Please stop talking. My dick is hard and I'm so confused as to why." Emory laughs at my statement, stopping in her tracks as she snorts, doubling over from her laughter. "This isn't funny Em! I'm conflicted!"

As she calms down she looks up at me with lust filled eyes. "At least you know that I don't entirely hate you for all the times you shot at me." She shrugs casually and walks into the room leaving me standing there in shock, her hips swaying a little more.

Then it hits me. Some of the nights that we had the greatest sex— it was right after I had a shootout with the Furies. She would jump me the minute we were both home and my god—

"Don't you dare start without me, sweets!"

Taglist: (tagging those who might interested, join the taglist to keep being tagged or to be tagged next time) @mamachasesmayhem @eternalsams @sarahsmi13s @hookslove1592 @sailor-aviator @callsign-magnolia @goldenseresinretriever @callsigns-haze @some-lovely-day @buckysteveloki-me @bradleybeachbabe @lovinglyeternal @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeaspettyasleah @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Mama may's Everything tags: @aviatorobsessed @callsigncurse @teacupsandtopgun @trickphotography2 @thedroneranger @sweetwhispersofchaos @capoteera @hardballoonlove @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989 @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @lynnevanss @jynxmirage @na-ta-sh-aa @whatislovevavy @dingochef @dempy @dckweed @just-in-case-iloveyou @tgmreader @djs8891 @marvelousnightjengale @soulmates8 @sorchathered

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random-writing-thoughts · 2 years

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Hi it is me again I have returned 😁👋 Could you please continue thought 142

-🐸🍄

This one has been sitting in my drafts for forever...

Here you go 🐸 🍄 anon!!!

Thought #142.8

Warnings: swearing

Hero trudged silently after Villain. They had been walking for hours now. Weaving their way through the forest that surrounded the city. Villain stopped and looked back at them.

"You've been quiet for a long time. What's up?"

Hero stopped and leaned against a tree. Superhero had given up on them a while ago and they had been silently trudging up the hill.

Hero glared at Villain. "Where are we actually going?"

Villain huffed and grabbed Hero's arm. They swept Hero up in their arms and continued carrying them down the path.

"We are going to a safe house that I have. I'm not a liar.

Hero rolled their eyes and rested their head on Villain's shoulder. "But that's what the newspapers say you are." They said snidely under their breath.

Villain laughed. "You believe the newspapers. Last time I checked they said you were a Saint who did everything Superhero tells them to."

Hero pushed away from Villain. Villain stopped and set them down.

Hero turned and glared at Villain. "I know what the newspapers say about me." They started pacing. "You don't think that crossed my mind when I agreed to help you? What are you going to lose with this whole agreement thing?"

Villain opened their mouth.

Hero stepped forward. "Nothing. You lose nothing. You get the coolest kid I've ever met, by your side and your reputation is still intact."

Villain grabbed Hero's shoulders.

Hero looked up at them with tears in their eyes. "And you were wondering why I've been so quiet?" Hero threw up their hands pushing Villain's from their shoulder. "Because I can't go back to my normal life. I gave up everything for you and you probably still told Best Friend everything about me."

Villain grabbed Hero's wrist and pulled them into a hug. Hero pushed against them but Villain held them tight.

"I promise I didn't tell Best Friend anything. Why would I? You helped me get my, and by your own description, coolest kid back. You risked your job, reputation, and life to do that. Why would I betray you now?"

Hero stopped struggling and relaxed. "Is your safe house nice?" Hero asked softly.

Villain swept them up in their arms. They continued up the hill. "It is nice. You can stay for as long as you want."

Hero closed their eyes and rested their head on Villain's shoulder. "Do you have my phone with you? Best Friend is probably wondering what happened to me."

"Sidekick has..." Villain paused and set Hero down. They stared at the building in front of them.

The cabin was beautiful. It had a garden to it's right and a lovely fountain by the front door. Which was splintered and hanging from a hinge.

Villain took off towards the door. Hero followed slowly. They looked at the footprints that led to the front door.

There had been multiple people here. They rested their hand on the railing that traveled around the porch. Scorch marks were speckled on it.

"Kid was fighting whoever it was." They said softly.

"Damn it." Villain yelled from inside the house. Hero ran to them.

"What..." the house was in shatters. There were scotch marks everywhere and broken furniture littering the floor.

"How did they..."

Villain moved fast. They pulled a picture off the wall and pressed their hand against the wall. A keyboard and screen slid out from the wall. Villain frantically started typing on it.

Hero walked slowly towards them.

"Son of a bitch. That fucking traitor." Villain pushed from the keyboard and slumped onto the couch.

Hero stepped to the screen and saw Kid cornered in the living room. They were fighting a group of people, led by...

"You guys finally made it up here. Took you long enough." A slimy voice came from behind Hero.

Hero turned and saw Sidekick step into the room.

Villain jumped to their feet. "What did you do with my kid?"

Sidekick shrugged. "I don't know. Superhero has them now."

Hero backed up. "What? I thought..."

"You thought I actually was helping you? Cute. I would never turn my back on Superhero." They stepped closer to Hero. "You used to think the same way. Didn't you betray a few people back in your golden age?" They brushed them off. "Oh well. Now are you two going to come willingly or do we have to do this the hard way?"

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chapter1991 · 11 months

Text

Heart Attack

Jesse, a shameless flirt who doesn't do commitment because of his previous relationship years ago. Lennox, an aspiring writer, who enjoys her single life and her time with her family and friends. Both with a difficult past to leave behind. Both with invisible scars that prevent them from letting anyone in.

What would happen when those two finally meet? Will they be able to move on from the past or will those memories tear them apart?

Book 1 of the Cambridge Series

Chapter 1

Jesse

I was two months into my last year at Cambridge University. For the past two months, me and my team have been practicing almost every day. We lost the championship last year by just a few points, and that is not going to happen again. This year we will win! A few hours ago, we had won our first game of the year. It was a friendly game, but still. The party was still going on downstairs. I left my teammates and the party goers to enjoy themselves while I would enjoy myself with a pretty little redhead that was cheering in the stands earlier. She wanted to celebrate me, so before I could do anything, she sank to her knees and pulled my trousers down. I wasn't about to complain.

The next morning, she had left before I finished my shower. That is how I preferred, that is what the birds know to expect from me. No cuddling, no attachments and leaving before I exit the shower or preferably not even staying the night. Just in my boxers, I made my way down to the kitchen. The only one that was awake was Daniel's girlfriend. Dark-skinned with amazing curls and stunning grey-blue eyes. She could be a model if she wasn't set on becoming a surgeon. She was one of the smartest people I had ever met. How Daniel managed to snare her, remains the question. She was sitting at the kitchen island, books sprawled around her as she studied. She was wearing Daniel's shirt and sweats, her feet bare as they rested on the foot stand of the barstool.

Without looking up, she pushed the teapot towards me.

"Thanks." I murmured.

"I saw Giselle leave twenty minutes ago."

"Who?" I asked. Oh. Oooh. "Ah, right. Giselle."

She put her head in her hand and looked up to me. "Oh, Jesse. What I am to do with you." She sighed.

"There is nothing to do with me. I'm perfectly fine."

She snorted. "That's why there is a new girl leaving your room every weekend."

"Having sex is part of being young, Amara."

"That's true. But you had seven different bed partners since school started. That's just..." She scrounged up her nose. "Nasty. And they are out of your bed and out of the house before you wake up."

"Jake has sex. So do all the other guys."

"None of them as much as you. Or at least not with so many different partners. Most of them have... regulars."

That was possible true. I never had real interest in what girls come and go in the house. But I wasn't interested in regulars or relationships. I'm not interested in getting too close to any bird at the moment. From the whole team, Daniel was the only one currently in a relationship. He had managed to snag Amara up in the first year of college and they have been together ever since. All the others had multiple girlfriends over the years. Some more serious than others.

"Don't worry, I'm always safe and I get tested every three months. I'm clean."

"I know, because if you weren't I wouldn't be sitting in this house." She grinned, I chuckled. Daniel and Amara were in my year, so I've known her since I started here at Cambridge. It was one of the few girls I was close to. Or what you can call close. I have a lot of male friends, but girls... no. Not even a handful of girls would I call close. "You're a great guy, Jesse. But are you really going through life like this? Going from one girl to the other?"

"You know I don't do commitment, and you know why." I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"I do." She said as she highlighted a sentence. "But what if the right girl comes around?"

"I probably wouldn't know, since I don't talk to girls. And besides this is my last year. With football and my classes, the chances are big that I won't stay in the UK after school. So, no need to get close to anyone."

She looked at me for a moment. And I knew she was about to say something else, but she closed her mouth as Daniel walked in.

"Seriously, Jesse?" He groaned, dropping next to his girlfriend. "Couldn't you at least wear a shirt?"

"And deprive Amara of my glorious six-pack? I wouldn't dream of it." I winked at Amara. I could just duck in time for the bread roll Daniel tossed at my head. When I looked back, Daniel gave his girlfriend a good morning kiss. It was nauseatingly sweet. I was glad they were the only couple in the house.

A few weeks later, I was in the middle of a football match when the reflection of the sunlight almost blinded me. I looked at the stadium, trying to find whatever it was. Then my eyes found the source. It was something small, something metallic. A girl was sitting sideways on the stands, her back against the side wall. She had a dark blond bob, her hair falling in front of her face as she read a book. She was twirling something metallic between her fingers as she read. In her hair was a diadem in the school colours but she wasn't watching the game for one bit. What was a bookworm doing at the football game?

"Jesse!" I turned away from the girl to look at Bryn, who had called for me. He had kicked the ball towards me, and I was just in time to take over and make my way towards the goal.

After the game, that we lost, we made our way to the locker room. I looked over my shoulder to the stands again, she was placing the metallic thing between her pages and closed the book. But she didn't move, she just leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

"Jake." I pulled his sleeve and he stopped to look at me. He had black curly hair, that was half tied up. His green eyes that stood out from his bronze skin was a shoo-in with the girls. He didn't hook-up with as much girls as I did, but he was more social with them. Like he really talked to them and knew their friends and sorts. He would probably know who she was. "Who's that?" I nudged my head towards the girl. "The one that's reading. The bookworm."

Jake looked over his shoulder for barely a second before he frowned. "You're kidding, right?"

"Uhm, no?" I frowned slightly. "What, who is she?"

"That's Bryn's sister."

That was news to me. I never heard him talk about a sister. Nor had I ever seen her around. I blinked up at Jake, who was slightly taller than me. "Bryn has a sister. Since when?"

"Since birth." He said, clearly annoyed that I didn't know. "They are twins, Jess." My mouth bobbed like a fish. I really had no idea. "But don't you even think about it." He warned, prodding my chest with his finger.

"About what?"

"Messing around with her. Bryn is very protective of her and since I've known her since we were five, I am too. So, don't think about whatever it is your thinking about. You stay well clear of her."

I always knew Jake and Bryn had been friends before university, but I didn't know they were that close. It is the first time I've seen Jake so protective about anyone. I didn't want to find out how protective Bryn was. I put up my hands. Because he had a good point. I don't do relationships, not since – Well I've just been hooking-up with girls at parties and such for the past two years. I wasn't looking for anything serious. So, I understood where he was coming from.

"I wasn't thinking anything like that." I said. "Her bookmark thingy literally almost blinded me on the field. So, I was just wondering who would come to a match without looking up from a book. But I guess she's here to support you and Bryn. Even though she doesn't watch the game and rather enjoy reading in a full stadium."

Jake was still frowning as he looked at me. He shook his head and started for the locker room. "You couldn't be more wrong." He said before he disappeared inside.

I looked back at the almost empty stands. She was still sitting there, but now she was talking to a guy that was crouched down on the stand behind her. She said something, that made the guy grin wide before she kissed him on the cheek, very close to his mouth and walked out of the stadium.

Win or lose, we always had a party at our student house not far from Cambridge University. But this loss hit hard. Not only because it was the first loss of this year, but this was also the last year at Cambridge for a lot of us on the team. Including me, Bryn and Jake. Beer and hard liquor were presented at the large kitchen island as party goers came trickling in. As captain of our football team, I gave them an inspirational speech in the locker room earlier. But now wasn't the time for speeches, now it was a time for drinking. We all had a shot glass in our hands as we lifted it to the air.

"The Blues!" I shouted.

"The Blues!" The others chorused and we tipped back the shot glasses.

We drifted off after that. All going to their current boyfriends or girlfriends or looking for a hook up. I had put my hand against the wall where a pretty second year was leaning against. Her name was Lily or Lola or was it Lorena? It didn't matter, she knew who I was and how I worked. As I whispered something in her ear and she giggled, I saw Jake and Bryn on the other side of the room talking. Bryn frowned at something Jake had said and then his eyes shifted towards me. I raised my eyebrow at them, but they didn't respond. I turned back to the girl with an L in her name. Jake was probably making a too big deal about me asking about Bryn's sister. I didn't even know he had a sister. I really needed a distraction after we lost the match, so I looked back at the girl. I gave her a smile that worked on all the girls and the next second she was kissing me. I pushed myself flush against her as I deepened the kiss. Yes, this was a distraction I needed. Her hands roamed quickly under my shirt and over my abs.

"Erin!" I heard someone shout. The girl pulled back and looked at a group of girls standing together. One was sending daggers towards Erin. So, not Lily or anything with an L in it. Oops. I really wanted to kiss Lily, no- Erin again but I noticed that one of the girls was a past hook-up. And it looked like that she didn't enjoy her friend doing the same. Bloody girls and their packs. I wasn't sure what Erin wanted to do, go back to her friends or finish what we started. But her hands were still under my shirt.

Anything I had planned to do to her vanished from my mind though when Bryn's sister walked in. I don't know why but my eyes followed her as she walked through the room. She was wearing simple white sneakers with a skirt long enough to tease any man or woman who wanted to know what it was underneath. Above she wore a lace white top that just reached her collar bones. It wasn't something scandalous or outrageously sexy like most of the girls were wearing, but somehow, she got the attention from not only me, but other men around the party. She wasn't my usual type with shorter hair and a curvy body. But still my eyes followed her.

She had a purse over her shoulder, just big enough to hold the book she was reading earlier. If she could read a book during a football match, it wouldn't surprise me she could probably read one during a loud, drunk frat party. She kissed her brother on the cheek before doing the same to Jake. He curled his arm around her back, resting it really close to her bum. That wasn't just a friendly touch. I stepped away from Lily- fuck, Erin, as I saw all of my teammates gather around them before they all dutifully followed her to the kitchen. What the fuck? Did everyone know about her except me? And why are they following her?"

"Sorry, Li- Erin. I have to go." I said and followed the team to the kitchen.

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kazewhara · 3 years

Note

its like 12 am and i have class at 6 tmrw but can we talk abt having kazuha in you lap and just,, being with him??? like, ok reader gets all the support and comfort but what abt him

"you've been working hard."

"on the contrary," kazuha chuckles tiredly as he stares at your intertwined hands, "i don't think i've been working hard enough."

you frown while he plays with your fingers. kazuha came to your apartment a few hours ago looking ran through; his hair barely in it's usual ponytail, his glasses looked about ready to slip off his face, and he had dark circles under his eyes. kazuha's not exactly picky about his appearance, but he normally cares enough to not go out looking so disheveled. rather than entertain his attempts at conversation, you tugged him into your room and forced him to lay down. his protests stopped after three minutes.

finals week is rough -- everyone knows that. you've barely been getting by yourself what with the exams that start as early as 8 am and end as late as 8 pm almost every day. you're fortunate enough to not have any papers to write, but the projects, essays, and multiple choice are kicking you from every direction. kazuha isn't much better off than you are, especially with his courses being literature heavy; your boyfriend has to slave over paper after paper, each one with a high page minimum. you haven't been able to see him much these days because of your busy schedule. it didn't bother you at first, but seeing him so haggard made your insides twist.

kazuha has a terrible habit of forgetting that he has needs whenever he's doing something important. this isn't the first time you've seen him so worn by exams, but this is the first time it's been so bad.

after he woke up from his forced nap, he slunk into the living room and sat beside you with a muted yawn, dropping his head on your shoulder. you pulled him into your lap and he didn't argue at all, absorbing as much of your warmth as he could get. he's been idly toying with your hands for a while now, probably drifting in and out of sleep on your lap. it'd be romantic if you weren't so worried.

"kazuha, when was the last time you slept for more than six hours?" you ask, curling your fingers over his.

he hums in thought but doesn't answer.

"kazuha..."

"i'm alright," he lies. he brings the back of your hand to his lips and holds it there for a moment. "i did need that nap, though. thank you."

you glare up at him but he doesn't meet your eyes. he's hiding something from you. "you're not telling me something." you say, pulling your hand away. "you know you can talk to me, right?"

kazuha nods. his eyes look heavy. "i know." he glances at you for a second before sighing. "you know i hold myself to a high standard. it's nothing anybody forced me to do, i... can't afford to do poorly when i'm capable of doing so much better. so as long as i'm still on my feet, i--"

you cut him off with a sharp shake of your head. he's told you this once before, but that was a completely different situation; you'd found out that he was an english double major and maintained his position as the top student in both departments. it was admirable at the time, but now that you know how far he's willing to go with these thoughts, you can't let him think that all the time. you shudder to think what would become of him if he didn't have you to force him to sleep.

"and what happens when you literally can't be on your feet, kazuha?" you ask, your voice tight. you're not sure why you suddenly feel like crying on his behalf, but you swallow it back. "what then?"

kazuha doesn't answer. you continue.

"one of your most admirable qualities is your diligence." you put a hand on his face, smiling weakly when he leans into your touch. "but it's also one of your worst."

"would you elaborate for me, dove?" he asks, closing his eyes.

"kazuha, your body can only handle so much and your diligence can only take you so far. all your efforts will be for nothing if you fall apart." you brush your thumb over his cheek. "what would you have done if you crashed?"

kazuha rests his hand on top of yours and opens his eyes, his brows furrowing. "i wouldn't have. i know my limits."

"do you?" your smile drops. "then why did you come in here looking like death? if you know your limits the way you think you do, you wouldn't be like this." you flinch at your tone. you don't like scolding anybody, especially your boyfriend, but he's stubborn when he wants to be. it might take some pushing for him to see things your way. "if i hadn't made you sleep, what would you have done then? would you keep working until you passed out?"

kazuha's silence bothers you, but he does speak eventually. "it's... not an easy habit to break." he admits. you remain silent as he thinks things over. it's on him to work out a solution now that the problem has been brought to light. you never want to force kazuha in the direction you want him to go in; it's completely up to him if he wants to or not. then, finally: "would it make you happy if you monitored my studying?"

it'd be nice to keep an eye on him, but you're not responsible for him. "don't tell me what you think i want to hear." you chide gently. you tap his cheek with a finger. "what do you think you should do?"

"if you want the truth, i... don't know. if i slow down, i'll be putting my academics at risk; if i don't take my time, however, i'll be putting my health at risk, and," he almost looks sad when he meets your eyes, "i fear i'd be upsetting you even more. that won't do either."

always so selfless. kazuha's so mindful of others -- of you -- that he literally can't make any moves without considering how self-care will affect those around him. this was a new battle for him to fight in addition to the ones he's already got going on; it was going to take a lot of time for this one to come to an end.

you sigh and lean up to kiss him slowly, drinking in kazuha's murmur of appreciation. "you don't have to know." you whisper. "it's fine. just remember that your health and well-being is important. and if you can't remember, then i'll do it for you. how does that sound?"

kazuha's answer comes in the form of another kiss. "i suppose a few more texts from you wouldn't hurt." he chuckles when you swat at his arm playfully. "thank you for caring so much about me. you really are my angel, aren't you?"

your cheeks warm. "don't thank me for loving you." you mutter. "shouldn't you get some more sleep?"

at that, kazuha stands and grabs your hand. "maybe i should," he says, pulling you to your feet, "but i'd love it if you came with me."

"alright, then." you follow him into your room and hug him close when he moves into your arms. it's almost magnetic the way you two find each other every time. you brush your fingers through his hair. "you gonna sleep a little longer this time?"

kazuha squeezes your waist. "i think i'd be here for an eternity since you're here with me."

"sap."

"i always am."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin kazuha #kazuha x reader #z scribbles #z anon #z box #z list #mmh yes i would like four kazuhas please.

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honeyedhoseok · 3 years

Text

Blue | 01

genre | jeon jungkook x reader; lifeguard!JK but this isn't really a lifeguard fic; soulmate!au if you squint; smut; angst

word count | 9.9K

summary | that summer with jungkook was blue--a shade that carries with it a tinge of melancholia that you should have accepted from the beginning.

or,

to say that you fell in love with a color was an overstatement, but to say that you fell in love with him was an understatement.

a/n | i've been writing this to avoid my responsibilities. hope you enjoy! <3

series masterlist

It rained the first day Jungkook worked at the pool.

You’d heard the news of a few new lifeguards starting that day, but you’d been too busy serving ice cream at the snack bar to really get anything other than a quick glance at the lifeguard stand before you were locking eyes with the next greedy customer in line.

It was the beginning of summer, with the air sitting hot, dry and heavy on the normal patrons of the pool: older moms who sunbathed and gossiped with their friends while their kids splashed in the shallow end and gave the lifeguards something to do. Teenagers too cool to actually get in the pool littered the sides, only dipping their feet in while using expensive Ray Ban frames like a headband to hold their hair out of their eyes while they talked with their friends.

The forecast had mentioned some scattered storms, but normally that just meant getting everyone to come inside for a few minutes until it passed. The storm that day, however, had plans of sticking around a little bit longer.

You were passing a cup of strawberry shortcake soft serve out the window when the first clap of thunder sounded, followed by a lightning storm that sent the lifeguards in a tizzy. Multiple whistles blew at the sudden appearance of a storm, and the atmosphere was a rush of splashing and commotion as people made their way out of the water and to their belongings scattered in chairs on the sides.

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” your coworker, Jihyo says, sidling up beside you to look at the clouds looming over what was supposed to be a normal day at the pool. “Wonder if we’ll get to go home early?”

“I hope not,” you reply. “I need these hours, damn it. The Blooming Festival is in a few weeks, and I plan on taking off at least three days to soak it all in.”

Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’ve only mentioned it, maybe, every day I’ve worked with you so far?”

Serving ice cream at the pool was just a summer job. You were working there to make some money so you could do things with your friends, put gas in your car, and occasionally splurge on a new outfit or pair of shoes. It was supposed to be as normal as every other summer you’d worked there in between college semesters—until he showed up.

In fifteen minutes, the pool was shut down completely; all of the patrons were packed up and back in their cars after an announcement from your manager that the storm was forecasted to not let up for at least another hour and a half.

“Oh, we’re definitely going home,” Jihyo says, shutting the serving window and twisting the lock. “When’s the last time Seokjin shut down the pool indefinitely?”

You purse your lips, leaning back against the counter behind you and looking out at the pouring rain behind Jihyo. The wind was starting to pick up now, leaves and debris filling the once-clean surface of the cerulean water of the pool.

You start to make a bitter remark but the sound of heavy, slapping footsteps cuts you off, followed by a loud pounding at the back door. Jihyo looks toward the source of the noise with furrowed eyebrows, tilting her chin up stubbornly.

“More twelve-year-olds coming to demand that we restock Moose Tracks?”

“Hey, Moose Tracks is a classic!” you call at her back as she goes to unlock the door. “It’s not their fault you keep picking unpopular flavors to order each week—like Mint Chocolate Chip!”

The back door opens, and the shop is suddenly flooded with voices following Jihyo back into the small space.

“MCC is the goddamn classic, Y/N,” Jihyo says, stomping back into the conversation like she never left off. “Don’t ever bash it again, or I’ll stop ordering Sea Salt Caramel for your uncultured ass!”

You want to laugh, but you’re too distracted by the hoard of boys—lifeguards—trailing behind her. Yoongi and the two new guys crowd your space suddenly, and you find yourself backing up into one of the corners and trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt for just arguing with Jihyo over ice cream flavors, of all things.

The boys are soaking wet, puddles collecting at their feet on the tiled inside of the kitchen, but they seem unphased by it as they huddle in. Thankfully, one of them comes to your rescue.

“I’m with her,” he says, giving you a nod. His smile fills up his whole face as he talks, making his eyes turn into little crescent half-moons. “Sea Salt Caramel is where it’s at.”

The other lifeguard doesn’t say anything, gaze focused over your heads outside where the wind is knocking sunbathing chairs over. You realize then how tall he is—possibly half a foot or more than you—and the thought that if you were close enough, your nose wouldn’t even brush the dip of his clavicle, has your cheeks burning.

He and the half-moon lifeguard have similar builds: long, lean body statures, almond-shaped eyes, the same dark hair that falls in wet strands in their eyes. You wonder if they’re related. Maybe the taller one is the older brother, you think.

“The great ice cream debate,” Yoongi murmurs suddenly, sounding bored. “How about we have some and solve this problem once and for all?”

As he reaches for one of the serving spoons, Jihyo’s arm flies out, smacking it out of his hands. It falls with a clatter onto the counter, and he looks at her with an animated expression of surprise and disgust.

“Uh-uh,” she says, wagging a finger at him. “It’s like Seokjin’s only rule for us.”

“Seokjin can kiss my—“

As if on cue, the back door swings open and Yoongi shuts his mouth as Seokjin comes in, looking incredibly dry due to the floor-length plastic covering hanging from his umbrella.

Leave it to Seokjin to own something as extra as that, you think.

“Get comfy,” he says as he steps out of the plastic, shaking water off the top that splashes onto your scuffed, white Keds.

You gaze down, realizing only then that none of the lifeguards are wearing shoes. Yoongi’s pinky toe is edging dangerously close to a melted puddle of chocolate ice cream you forgot to clean up, but you don’t have the guts to tell him in front of your manager, so you shoo the thought away and focus on the grim look on Seokjin’s face. He’s chewing gum and looks slightly annoyed at the thought of all five of you huddled inside instead of doing work.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he says, “but I need you guys to stay here until the storm calms down. It should pass in an hour or two.”

Jihyo frowns. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll send you home.”

She grins triumphantly.

“And I’ll need you to come in early tomorrow to clean up that mess out there,” Seokjin adds, giving her a sickly-sweet smile. He blows a bubble with his pink chewing gum for emphasis, the pop resonating in the small space.

Yoongi frowns and Jihyo’s mouth drops open. The new lifeguards seem as surprised as the other two, and they eye Seokjin curiously, probably trying to figure out what kind of manager he is. Even after all this time working for him, you don’t really know the answer to that question, either.

“Any more questions?” he asks, tone leaning somewhat on annoyance. But then again, that’s how Seokjin always sounded.

Jihyo shakes her head and Yoongi gives him a deepened frown in answer.

“Good. You,” he says, looking pointedly at Yoongi and mimicking his annoyed expression. “See to it that Hoseok and Jungkook get acquainted with the rules.” He steps inside his clear cocoon of an umbrella, reaching down to zip it up above his head. “And I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go outside and clean up.”

Jungkook, you think. You know immediately that it’s his name because it just fits him. You feel yourself rolling the unspoken syllables around the inside of your mouth, wondering when you’ll get the first chance to say them aloud.

Yoongi salutes half-assedly, and Jihyo elbows him in the side after Seokjin turns around and makes his exit. After the back door is shut, the five of you visibly deflate, and Yoongi sucks his teeth.

“That guy,” he mutters. “One of these days—”

“I wish you’d learn your lesson and stop messing with him,” Jihyo says, interrupting whatever nasty comment was about to spill from his mouth. “It’s probably because of you that Seokjin wants us to stay, instead of going home in this god-awful weather.”

“Why doesn’t he like Yoongi?” Hoseok asks, eyes flickering to the chestnut-haired, simmering boy to his left.

“His most recent offense?” Jihyo ponders, crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. “Not showing up for his shift—threedays in a row.”

“I was sick,” Yoongi says dryly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What did you want me to do? Not stay in bed and get better?”

“Oh, your bed must suddenly have relocated to the pool hall at five in the afternoon, huh?” she says, tilting her head to the side in mocking. “Snapchat locations don’t lie, Yoongi. If you’re going to play hooky, do it better.”

Hoseok chuckles. “Damn, man.”

Yoongi, never one to back down from an argument, flicks his brown fringe out of his eyes. “Why don’t you teach me then, Little Miss Stomachache?”

“I had cramps!” Jihyo says indignantly.

“You’ll learn that being around these two is like being around an old married couple,” you murmur to Jungkook and Hoseok as Yoongi and Jihyo’s voices rise louder and louder in contest. “They get along like cats and dogs.”

Jungkook grins at your comment, and you think your heart stops a little in your chest before starting an accelerated rhythm that has you feeling light. His lips pull back prettily over his teeth, his cheeks balling a little from the force of it.

“I’m thinking cats and dogs might actually be more civil than this, to be honest,” Hoseok says, gesturing to an annoyed Yoongi threatening to rub his clammy, wet feet on Jihyo’s bare, shorts-clad legs.

In the time that you had worked there, there were very few civil moments between Jihyo and Yoongi. You think that maybe they were civil when Yoongi first started, and you remember faintly a comment made by Jihyo that Yoongi was “cute” and maybe that they exchanged numbers at some point—but then rumors went around that Yoongi said Jihyo was too loud and controlling, and Jihyo said he was a selfish bastard, and you think they’ve been sworn enemies ever since.

“You’re probably right,” you say finally, giggling at Hoseok’s comment. You stop abruptly when you see Jungkook’s eyes fall to your mouth at the sight of it splitting open with a grin. They linger there for a moment before he speaks for the first time since entering you and Jihyo’s space.

“What did you say your name was, again?” he asks.

His voice is soft and low, almost a lilted hum, and it catches you off guard in comparison to his very boyish, young features. You expected it to be higher, to sound almost preteen-like, but it’s nothing of the sort—it immediately has you questioning how old he is in comparison to Hoseok.

“Y/N,” you say. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I guess.”

Jungkook smiles again, and this time it feels like one especially conjured up for you.

“Y/N,” he repeats, the sound of his tongue rolling over the syllables sends a little zap to your insides. “You um, have a little something there, on your shirt.”

He takes one hand out of his blue swim trunks and points to your breastbone, where a dark splotch of chocolate ice cream sits over your sternum.

“Aw, fuck!” you murmur, facing burning as you spin around on your heel, grabbing the nearest hand towel and dabbing at your shirt. “These kids—”

“It wouldn’t stain like that if it was Mint Chocolate Chip,” Jihyo sneers suddenly, cutting whatever Yoongi was about to say to her off. She grins triumphantly at the stain, returning to your argument from earlier. “Would it?”

You flip her the bird, still dabbing at the fabric—but you can’t help but revel a little in the cute smile Jungkook gives you as he watches you fuss over yourself, digging around the kitchen space for anything to save you from the ice cream on your shirt.

After that fated day, your mind lingered on Jungkook incessantly. At the pool, you glanced at him more often than not from the serving window of the ice cream stand, committing him to memory. You found yourself reminiscing over the upended triangular shape of his upper body, the lithe muscle covering his shoulder blades, the image of a whistle poised between his rosy lips, his teeth pressed tightly against the metal, his body wet and glistening as he rose out of the pool—

“You’re literally drooling, Y/N,” Jihyo says, breaking you out of your reverie by snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, go talk to him?”

“I will,” you say indignantly. “I told you—I’m waiting.”

“It’s been three weeks.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, nodding. “Still waiting.”

“Jesus,” Jihyo sighs. “I didn’t want to do this, but you know he’s only here for the summer, right?”

You freeze in the middle of cleaning the counter. “He’s what?”

“You heard me—you have less than three months, Y/N,” Jihyo says firmly. “I know rushing isn’t your style but, uh, you might not have a choice this time.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me!”

You hate how your voice sounds pitiful and whiny, but your heart is literally sinking at this news—three months? Less than three months? Where was he going? What would you do with your time when he wasn’t there to look out the window at? It dawns on you suddenly that you won’t be there in three months, either. School started back at the end of August—your sophomore year.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were interested in him?” Jihyo crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been watching you fawn over him for all this time, just waiting and hoping you’d confide in me, but no.”

“What was I supposed to say?” you retort glumly. “That I like the lifeguard that seems the least interested in my existence? Yeah, no, I’ll save myself from that sadness train going nowhere, thank you very much.”

“Maybe I can help you,” Jihyo says with confidence, turning to the window. “Hey, Jungkook!”

You freeze. “What? What are you doing?”

Jungkook looks your way, raising an eyebrow above his black Ray Bans. Jihyo leans out of the serving window, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand.

She turns to you. “Look how easy this is going to be.”

You swallow to combat the sudden tightness in your throat, watching with bated breath as Jungkook climbs down the lifeguard ladder and walks to you two, his feet slapping a little on the wet cement surrounding the pool.

“What’s up?” he says, pushing his sunglasses back on his head and unknowingly releasing the full intensity of his doe-like eyes.

You inhale a small gasp that Jihyo obviously hears, because she lightly presses her Ked-clad foot on top of yours below the counter.

“Me, you, Y/N, Hoseok,” Jihyo says with a confidence you could never muster. “Dinner and a movie on the boardwalk this weekend?”

Jungkook’s eyes pass from hers to yours for a split second, and your pulse picks up speed in your veins. If he seems surprised from the random invitation, however, he doesn’t let it show on the easy-going expression that he wears.

“Sure,” he says. “Can you remind me when it gets a little closer? I’ll have to make sure my parents don’t have anything planned.”

Jihyo flips her hair over her shoulder, casually producing her phone from what feels like thin air. You blink down at her hand, realizing this was her plan all along.

“Put your number in,” she says. “I’ll make us a group chat. We should probably have one anyways, since we work together. You know?”

Jungkook nods and puts his number in before handing it back to her. A commotion happens in the water behind him, and he glances over his shoulder with concern. “I should probably head back,” he says. He gives you both a small smile before he flips his sunglasses down over his eyes again, hitting a slight jog back to the lifeguard stand.

When he’s out of earshot, Jihyo texts rapidly on her phone. When she’s done yours vibrates three times in your pocket: the start of the group chat, you’re sure.

“And that, my friend,” she says, giving you a grin that could rival the Grinch when he decided to steal Christmas, “is how you get the ball rolling!”

Unfortunately, Jihyo’s plans—which she has annoyingly coined as Operation: Get Y/N Laid—don’t stop there.

On Thursday, just two days before the plans, she convinces Hoseok to come with her to something before the meet up that’s going to coincidentally make them late so that you and Jungkook have time to be alone.

When she tells you this, it’s as she’s making a double scoop chocolate cone, but you can’t help the overwhelming urge that comes over you to put your hands around her neck.

“Ack! Y/N! Let go!” she says between breaths with wide eyes. “I’m going to drop the ice—”

“You’re so dumb!” you yell, squeezing a little harder. “That’s such an obvious ploy to get us alone, he’s going to realize it!”

Jihyo finally squirms out of your grip by turning her head and licking your arm. The warmth of her tongue makes you recoil, and she gasps with relief as air floods back into her lungs, looking at the now-lopsided cone in her left hand.

“Now how am I supposed to give this to that little brat outside?” she says, frowning. “His mom will come and eat me alive if I hand this slop out of the window.”

“You probably deserve it,” you say sourly. You lean your hip into one of the counters, crossing your arms over your chest. “Take your plans back, Jihyo.”

“I can’t,” she says calmly. “Hoseok is already in on it.”

“He’s what?!”

“He’s in on Operation: Get Y/N Laid,” she says again, with that same ridiculous manner of calm, like you didn’t just make her life flash before her eyes thirty seconds ago. “Stop freaking out—he wants to give you some time alone just like I do. So, he’s not going to say anything to Jungkook. The plan will go on like normal, you will just have to do a little acting when we don’t show up on time. Got it?”

In all honesty, it’s not the worse plan she has ever come up with. But you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing so, so you keep your current frown plastered on your mouth for a little longer to let her know your displeasure with the sudden turn of events.

“Oh, don’t you go all pouty on me,” Jihyo says, wagging a finger at you as she trashes the cone you messed up and grabs another. She scoops more ice cream out of the container below her, giving you a look that reminds you of a mother watching her children open Christmas presents after telling them they weren’t getting anything for months. “You’ll thank me later—right after you tell me if Jungkook has anything worthy of talking about.”

“I’m sure he does,” you respond indignantly, falling right into her trap. “He’s intelligent.”

Jihyo hums a nod before brandishing the new cone, two scoops of chocolate perfectly centered and balanced on top of each other. “Before long this will be you two—are you a top or a bottom, though? I forgot.”

You groan in anguish as Jihyo lets out a cackle, opening the window to your stand and handing it out the impatient little boy that waits outside. You’re grateful for the breeze, although its simmering warmth does nothing for the same feeling that has settled high on your cheeks, dusting pigment there reminiscent of a similar shade of red Jungkook sometimes sports on his swim trunks.

The day of the boardwalk date, you find yourself sprawled out on the floor in front of your closet in your underwear and bra, contemplating why you ever purchased every single item of clothing in your closet.

These kinds of freak outs are normally reserved for the pressing dates in life—first day of college, nights out with the girls, birthdays—but today, you find yourself freaking out over the instance of having to wear the perfect outfit in order to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

Comfortable, and most importantly, pretty.

You shuffle through your two final picks, laying them across your bed in order to get the full effect of what they might look like on. They were both incredibly simple—your college wardrobe either consisted of exercise shorts and t-shirts and hoodies or going out clothes that were much too revealing for a fun night on the boardwalk. But you fret over them some more, so much that you almost have a nervous breakdown and text Jihyo to call the whole thing off.

But the slight hum of your phone vibrating your bed stops you before you can do so. It’s from Jungkook, and you heart beats a little off kilter at the sight of his name popping up on your phone screen.

Jungkook 5:15PM : We still meeting at 6?

It’s directed to your group chat with him, Jihyo and Hoseok. You take a deep breath. Jihyo had told you that she wasn’t going to respond to any messages until the last minute, to really sell her “emergency” that she had to bring Hoseok along on. You were driving separately, as was Jungkook, but the two of them had decided to conveniently carpool a day prior.

Y/N 5:18PM : I’ll be there! Park at Pier 14, it’s the closest one to the boardwalk

Jungkook 5:20PM : Yes ma’am 😊

You smile down at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip softly as you read the message over a few times before clicking the screen lock button. You prop your hands on your hips, deciding that it’s now or never. The nights got chilly in the summer when the sun wasn’t beating down as heavy, and you hated being cold. So, you choose the outfit on the right—a simple, oversized pullover and bike shorts, paired with some scuffed white sneakers, and rush into the bathroom to get ready so you’re not late.

You get to the pier at exactly 6:01 and search around for a parking space.

A part of you feels like this is a bad plan. Especially when you look down at your phone after cutting the engine and realize that Jihyo has texted you something that makes your stomach drop.

Jihyo 5:59PM : Haha…bad news

Jihyo 5:59PM : DON’T KILL ME

Y/N 6:02PM : Please, no!!! What is it!!

Jihyo 6:03PM : The check engine light on my car came on as I was leaving Hoseok’s. Don’t panic. We are waiting for AAA to come get us and take us back to his house so he can drive. I repeat: DON’T. PANIC.

“Okay, okay” you say to yourself, taking a few calming, deep breaths in. “At least she has a plan? This can still work out. I’m not panicking. Yet.”

Y/N 6:03PM : When are they estimated to be there?

Her messaging dots appear and disappear for a few minutes and your anxiety skyrockets.

Y/N 6:06PM : JIHYO

Jihyo 6:07PM : between 6:45-7PM…

Y/N 6:08PM : THE MOVIE STARTS AT 7:05 YOU ABSOLUTE

There’s a knock at your window that has you almost jumping out of your skin. When you look up, you’re met by the wide grin and big, childlike eyes of Jungkook. He peers at you through the tinted glass, looking a little sheepish at having scared you on accident.

All your anxiety about Jihyo having an actual emergency disappears as you unclick your seat belt and scramble out of the car to join him.

“I really didn’t mean to do that,” he says, stepping back and giving you space to swing your door open. “Is everything all right?”

“What?” you say. “Oh, yeah. Everything is fine. Well—sort of.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. “Did something happen?”

“Jihyo is having car trouble, so her and Hoseok are going to be late.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, shifting your weight from leg to leg. The outing was supposed to be all of you as a group—and originally, them being a little late wouldn’t have been such a problem. But you were thinking thirty minutes max, not an hour and a half!

You’re relieved when Jungkook shrugs. “Oh, okay,” he says. “Well, I’m still cool with walking around until the movie starts if you are ?”

You nod with enthusiasm. “Right—we’re already here, might as well go do some stuff?”

Jungkook smiles again, and you finally take a good look at him. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt under a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of chinos—a simpler outfit that looks way too good on his tall, lean frame. You hadn’t seen him in much other than his swim trunks because the only time you two really saw each other outside of this singular moment, was at work.

Of course, you weren’t complaining about that aspect. You could probably pencil out in detail the muscles of Jungkook’s upper chest and stomach, the way water rolled off them when he got out of the pool, the way they flexed when he pulled his whistle to his mouth. That is, if your drawing skills weren’t absolute shit—so bad at that a kindergartener could probably put you to shame with snapped Crayola’s and disproportionate stick figures.

The sun has already sunk below the horizon, taking with it all the heat and warmth of the day and leaving you with a slight breeze that could give you goosebumps if you let it, and a sky the deepened color of cornflowers.

It’s twilight, you realize, as you trail beside Jungkook from the parking lot cement onto the wooden planks of the boardwalk. A backlit, blue-hued time of day that you absolutely adored during the summertime because you still had just enough light accomplish the activities you wanted to.

Not that you needed to worry about light at a time like this—the bright boardwalk stadium lights are almost blinding, and because it’s the weekend, the two of you find yourself periodically weaving in and out of the crowd that seems to get busier and pushier the further you walk.

Jungkook takes the lead, his taller frame holding more of a reason for people to move out of the way than yours. You watch the back of his head the whole time, noticing the way his raven hair reflects the light—shiny and clean and looking incredibly soft.

“How about a snow cone?” he calls over his shoulder. “It looks like there might be somewhere for us to sit up there.”

He points ahead and you call out an agreement to him, hoping to be heard over the ruckus.

You realize that the crowd isn’t going to let up anytime soon—people have no qualms about walking in between you two, and you find yourself speeding up in order to not be further separated from him.

At some point Jungkook glances behind him again and realizes your struggle. He slows his pace, and you happen to look down and realize he is holding out the long sleeve of his hoodie for you to hold on to.

“Don’t get lost,” he says with a grin. “This snow cone will be worth it, I promise!”

You return his smile, holding onto his arm with a light touch as he continues to lead through the crowd. You curse Jihyo silently in your head—despite her fake emergency turning into a real emergency, she was right about one thing: time alone with Jungkook was something you couldn’t pass up.

When you finally make it to the snow cone cart, you let go of Jungkook’s arm quickly. He looks at you with suspicion as you snatch away, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a shit-eating grin, like he knew exactly what he was doing to your racing pulse by offering you his touch.

“What flavor do you want?” he asks, looking at the menu stand on the right. “My treat.”

You both immediately point to Tiger’s Blood, and Jungkook seems pleased with you.

“Good choice,” he says. “If you picked Pina Colada, I was going to lose it.”

You giggle. “You don’t like coconut?”

“No,” he says, frowning. “I snuck some of my mom’s Malibu one time without realizing and I almost barfed.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. You realize that you still don’t how old Jungkook is, and while he orders your snow cones, you look at him with scrutiny. There was something young about his eyes and face, the roundness of the tip of his nose and cheeks making you believe he was younger than you. But his body—good grief, his body—and the sharpness of his jawline and said otherwise.

When you’re both seated at a picnic table, you decide to ask him.

“Why?” he says. “How old do you think?”

You take a timid bite of your snow cone, relishing in the satisfying crunch of ice between your teeth. “Hmm, I know you’re college-age. Just wondering how old.”

“That story I told about sneaking alcohol was from a few years ago,” he says, laughing. “I’m twenty-one.”

“Oh.”

“You’re only nineteen, right?” he says, but it doesn’t seem like he cares much that you’re younger.

You nod. “But my birthday is in September.”

“So is mine,” he replies with a grin. “We’ll have to try to celebrate together, somehow.”

You try not to let on how happy his suggestion makes you—that months from now, you two will be friends that throw parties together, or possibly more—and you settle into your seat, munching happily on the cold treat that is slowly turning from ice to mush in the paper cone in your hands.

“So why the pool?” you say a few moments later. “Did you work at another one before ours?”

Jungkook blinks. “I have my CPR certification from another part time job I had at a gym,” he said. “I don’t know why they made us get it, honestly.”

You laugh. “Maybe in case one of the meatheads lifted too much at once?”

“Maybe,” he says, grinning. “But the gym couldn’t work around my school schedule anymore. So, when I came home I saw the pool was looking for a new part-time lifeguard and I applied.”

“You only come home during the summer?”

Jungkook nods, but a look of annoyance flashes across his face before he answers. “There’s not much for me here, honestly. I like school and being on my own, away from my parents.”

“I get that.”

It was something you could both agree on. You didn’t realize freedom could taste so sweet until you moved into your dorm on campus. You could stay up when you wanted, sleep when you wanted, go out when you wanted. As long as you kept your grades up and didn’t lose your scholarship for your parent’s sake, you were literally allowed to do whatever your heart desired.

“It’s too far away to fly back and forth, anyways,” Jungkook adds, suddenly. He tilts his paper cone back, dumping all of the remaining liquid into his mouth before crumpling it in his left fist.

“How far?”

“California.”

“Oh. Why there?”

Somehow, you were taken aback to hear that he’d chosen a school so far from his home. You wonder suddenly if the sullen look he’d given your earlier had more to it than you realized.

Jungkook ignores your question—like you expected—and stands up. You scramble to finish the remains of your cone and he holds his hand out for your trash. You give it to him, feeling the slight brush of your fingers against his palm that reminds you of earlier when he’d offered his arm. He doesn’t this time, but you find yourself wishing he would again. Or that you two were close enough for you to reach out and grab it without his permission.

“That’s a story for later,” he says, giving you a look meant to soften the blow of his hard statement. “I don’t want to talk about it right now—it’ll ruin the mood.”

You nod slightly, bringing your bottom lip back between your teeth to gnaw on. You hadn’t meant to upset him.

“Is there anything you want to do?” he asks, looking around. “We have about thirty minutes before we should head back to the car for the drive-in movie.”

The boardwalk was in full swing as the night progressed, the sky now a deep shade of indigo behind him. You stand with him, leaning onto your tip toes in an effort to recognize any signs further down the wooden path.

“The arcade, maybe?” you suggest.

Jungkook fake clutches at his chest, staggering with clumsy steps to one side. “A woman after my own heart,” he says theatrically. “I might faint.”

You laugh loudly and roll your eyes to cover up your own heartbeat thumping wildly in your ears. You use the rush to match his energy: “I’m only saying it because I want you to win me a plushie.”

Jungkook smiles, his eyes full of light and mischief at getting to show off his skills. “That, madam, is a deal. Let’s go.”

Jihyo still hasn’t texted you by the time you and Jungkook exit the arcade.

You want to send a scolding text to her, but in reality, you don’t really care if they show up anymore. Jungkook seems to have forgotten they were coming—he doesn’t look at his phone once while you two flit from game to game in the arcade.

You’d watched from the side as he entered a water pistol race with a few other patrons of the boardwalk. He sat down on a stool right in the middle of everyone, leaning over the gun and closing one eye for better accuracy. His tongue poked out between his lips, his form rigid and unyielding until the announcer blew a whistle to start the race. You held back a laugh at his seriousness, pressing a hand to your mouth in case he looked over at you.

He did, but only once the flashing lights above his booth went off, signaling him as the winner. He’d hopped off the stool and raced over to you, placing a hand above your elbow before pulling you over to claim your reward from the prize table.

You chose a blue and white dolphin that was just big enough to be slightly comical. Jungkook carried it over his shoulder as you two walked back toward his car, giddy from the excitement of playing carnival games and teasing each other all the while.

“Okay, but you wouldn’t have even beaten me at basketball if yours didn’t come to my side and knock my shots off course constantly!” Jungkook insists. “You’re a sneaky little thing.”

“Why can’t you just admit my two-pointer is better than yours?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook says, shaking his head in disappointment. “I’m almost six foot and you’re what—five-one? You simply can’t be a better shot that I am because of your genetics. I’m sorry.”

Your mouth drops open. “I’m literally five-three!”

“Minus two.”

“Oh, whatever!”

Jungkook laughs loudly, throwing his head back from the force of it. You pout alongside him, but you can’t help the telling smile that creeps onto your face. You like this side of Jungkook—it was so different from the stoic and quiet lifeguard you knew him as before.

“The drive-in is just a block that way, right?” he asks once you two come up on the parking lot. He shifts the dolphin higher on his shoulder, stopping in his tracks to turn and look at you. “I can drive us in my car, if you want.”

Your eyes widen a little at his suggestion. You didn’t even think about the fact that if Jihyo and Hoseok weren’t here, it would just be you and him watching the movie together.

“Oh—um, I mean,” you stumble over your answer. “If that’s okay with you?”

“I offered, didn’t I?” he says with another laugh. He gestures to the stuffed animal perched on his shoulder. “Plus, we’ve got a nice seat cushion, here.”

You smile and nod before following him to his car. It’s a little navy SUV—something you didn’t expect him drive at all. He seemed like a “car guy” for some reason, one that would have driven something old and sturdy and loud.

“This is—cute,” you say, for lack of better wording.

Jungkook sucks his teeth. “Man, why does everyone say that?” He groans. “This thing is great on gas, okay? And look at all this trunk space! I mean, if you lived all the way in California—"

“Hey, hey,” you say, holding your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, that was terrible wording. Did I say cute? I meant cutely efficient. You didn’t let me finish.”

Jungkook laughs again, nodding. “That’s what I thought you meant, yeah.”

He throws your dolphin in the backseat and then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. Your cheeks are hot as you move past him to settle into the seat, giving him a timid smile as he shuts the door behind you. You watch him walk around the front of the vehicle, lit up by a neighboring car’s headlights for just a fraction of a second.

He’s handsome to you while doing the most mundane of things, and your heart hurts at the thought. You couldn’t have a crush on him. He was your coworker for one, and for two, he didn’t live there. He went to school across the country, and he was only home for three incredibly short months. There would be nothing to your relationship, so you couldn’t let yourself fall into the trap of having a crush on someone so, well—unavailable. You pinch yourself hard on the thigh as a seal of reminder: this could not, would not, happen.

The slam of the car door brings you back to reality. Jungkook presses the start button on his dashboard before clicking his seatbelt across his upper body.

“You good?” he says, looking over at you with a furrowed brow. When you nod, he backs the car out of the space, his hand on the back of your headrest for good measure.

You take a few uneven breaths in and out at the action, forcing yourself to remain looking out of the front windshield and to not turn your head towards him even a fraction. You know doing so would put your faces at an incredible proximity, and you what the hell did you just pinch yourself over if you weren’t going to stick with it!

“Any word from Jihyo and Hoseok?” he asks. “It would be cool if we could still get dinner with them afterwards, at least.”

You pull your phone out of your crossbody. The screen lights up to no new unread messages, so you sent Jihyo a quick text in your private chat.

Y/N 6:58PM : Update?

It sends but doesn’t get read immediately in normal Jihyo fashion.

“Hm, maybe the tow truck is there, and she can’t talk,” you say. “I hope everything’s all right.”

“Me too,” Jungkook says. “But this is fun—with just us two.” He pauses, glancing over at you. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say quickly, giving him a smile. “I’m having a great time.”

He seems sated by this information, but you’re not sure why. “I’m glad.”

Jungkook drives you to toward the movie parking lot—a grassy field with neat rows of cars guided by a parking attendant in a bright, orange vest—and Jungkook reverses in the directed spot in the middle row of cars. You can see the screen perfectly, but only out of the back window from the way he parked. That does little to deter your excitement, though.

“The screen is huge!” you say in awe, twisting in your seat.

You look on as it plays movie trailer previews for remaining months of the summer, and the thought flits across your mind just how many you might get to see with Jungkook before your time was up.

“You’ve never been to a drive-in?” Jungkook asks. “We gotta make this one extra special, then.”

You look over at him with an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jungkook begins, unlocking the car doors, “I’m pulling out the big guns.”

He hops out and heads to the trunk of the car. You scramble after him, shutting the passenger door behind you and joining him where he stands with the trunk popped open. You watch as he lowers the second row of seats flat after moving the dolphin plushie and a conveniently-packed duvet. You look at him with raised eyebrows as he unfolds the blanket across the flattened seats, making you two a perfect spot to lay in the back of the car while watching the movie.

Jungkook sees the suspicion on your face and chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “I just thought we might want to be comfortable if we’re going to be watching a movie for two hours, you know?”

You ignore him and climb in through the open trunk, settling down with the dolphin as a cushion for your back. “Where’s the popcorn?” you ask, laughing. “This is perfect.”

Jungkook holds up a finger. “One moment, m’lady.”

He takes off from the car and you sit up on your elbows, watching him jog up to a stand at the front of the drive-in parking lot that was selling snacks and drinks for the occasion. You pinch yourself again for good measure when he comes back a few moments later, reminding yourself of your pact. Just because you two were alone, in the back of Jungkook’s car, laying down, about to watch a movie together, alone, didn’t mean anything!

The scent of butter and salt fills your nostrils as Jungkook returns, handing you the popcorn and drinks as he climbs into the trunk and settles beside you. He sits cross-legged and digs into the pockets of his chinos to reveal candy in both hands.

“Sour straws or gummi bears?” he asks.

“Gummi bears, but I want a sour straw, too.”

Jungkook laughs. “Agreed.”

As you two dig in, the beginning of the movie flickers onto the big display screen. People pass by Jungkook’s car on their way to the food stands at the front, and you and Jungkook settle against the giant dolphin propped on the back of the front seats.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you for all of this,” you say quietly in between sips of fizzy Coke. “You keep paying for everything before I can offer.”

“Would you rather us go Dutch?” he asks in the dark.

He’s incredibly close to you—his forearm brushes against yours when he moves because the dolphin only spans so far when you lay it down. It wasn’t the biggest prize, because you didn’t want to carry around a massive plushie, but it certainly wasn’t the smallest they had, either.

On screen, the heroine is introduced going about her daily life. She gets ready, brushes her teeth and hair, puts on her makeup for a normal day at school. When she pulls up to school, a sleek, black motorcycle is parked in her usual spot. A little ways from it, she notices the culprit—an extremely handsome guy holding a bike helmet within the crook of his arm as a swarm of cheerleaders surround him like he’s the coolest thing since sliced bread.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I mean, I hate the thought of depending on other people.”

Jungkook turns to look at you as you say this, and when you glance at him, there’s an emotion plastered on his usually friendly face that you can’t pinpoint.

“Consider it our first date,” he says finally, with a shrug. “Then you don’t owe me anything and you’re not depending on me, either.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Oh—um—well—”

Jungkook tilts his head down as he bites into a sour straw, pulling the candy away from his clenched teeth so it makes a small pop as it separates. He nudges you with his shoulder that is already leaning against your own.

“Did you see that?” he asks with a chuckle. “The stunt doubles are so noticeable in this movie—they have totally different builds than the main characters.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and manage a breathy laugh. A date. The word echoes within the chambers of your mind, repeating over and over like he just yelled it into a cave at the top of his lungs. It reverberates around your skull until you feel your skin buzzing from the meaning.

So much for your pact when he was saying things like that so casually. God, you couldn’t wait to get Jihyo alone to tell her everything.

The movie continues, and a glance down at your phone lets you know that it’s only thirty minutes in when Jihyo finally texts you back.

Jihyo 7:36PM : Hoseok and I aren’t going to make the movie. We’ll just explore the boardwalk until you two lovebirds are done and then we can get food!

You relay the information to Jungkook—leaving out the lovebirds bit. He nods in understanding.

“I figured they wouldn’t—but I’m glad we’ll get to see them,” he answers. “Hoseok texted me a while ago and said Jihyo’s engine light was on because she slams on her brakes too much. He thinks he has whiplash.”

You giggle. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“My little mom-car doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”

“I told you I liked it! I would totally pick my kids up from soccer at 6PM on Thursday in this!”

Jungkook throws a half-popped kernel at your forehead. “Rude.”

“You said the mom thing first!”

“Because I’m allowed to pick on Cheryl—she’s mine.”

“Cheryl?!” You dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Please—don’t tell me—”

Jungkook takes the weight of his shoulder pressed against yours and pushes you over with it before you can finish your sentence. You lean away from him but bring the force back with your own shoulder, fighting him for more room on the dolphin-plushie-turned-back-rest.

You two battle for a second, pushing against each other like children until Jungkook lifts his arm up and around you, cocooning you in his warmth and bringing you to rest fully on the right side of his body. He’s leaning a little against the corner of the back of the SUV and you are nestled within his side body, feeling the heat of his chest pressed against your cheek. You breathe in and out before you realize that maybe, you should move.

You go to sit up, but Jungkook says, “Wait, stay. You’re warm.”

It’s not you that’s warm—your face, sure—but Jungkook’s body feels like your own personal heater. You try to relax, leaning against him once again in a better cuddling position with your head resting on Jungkook’s chest, right below his collarbones. You can hear his heartbeat this way—thudding what you think is a little faster than normal underneath the layers of his thin hoodie and T-shirt.

“Are you comfortable? Can you see?”

You’re not sure, but you think he sounds a little breathless—from the sudden change in your positions, or the tussle before, you can’t tell which is the culprit.

“Yeah,” you say, shifting a little so that you’re more on your side rather than just leaning over onto him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” he says, and again, it sounds like there’s a hint of smile in his voice.

You can’t focus on the movie after that. Jungkook is too close, his intoxicating scent swirling into your nostrils with every inhale, your head rising up and down with each breath he takes. This was what friends did, right? This was totally friendly. He just wanted you to be comfortable. You repeat this to yourself as Jungkook’s hand—that was once just dangling over your shoulder—begins to trace soft patterns into your side.

You close your eyes, focusing on slowing the thumping of your heart, timing your inhales to let him know that this is okay. This is totally fine. You aren’t freaking out. You’re just here, enjoying everything that Jungkook had to offer you.

It’s fine. He’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe he was just touchy—some boys were like that, after all. Some friendly relationships included tons of skinship. You just weren’t used to it, and you needed to quickly acquaint yourself with the fact that this was how it would be with him if you continued to hang out.

Before you know it, you’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t catch most of the end of the movie. In fact, you don’t even realize it’s over until the credits are rolling and people are moving around you again, the sounds of car doors and trunks slamming as people get ready to move onto their next activity.

It’s only 9PM, but it’s dark outside—the blues of the sky that had enticed you so much once before had faded to an indescribable navy, a blue so deep that it looked black. If you focused, you could see the minute twinkling of stars past the stadium lights on the outskirts that blink on after the movie is over so everyone could exit in a timely and visible fashion.

Jungkook yawns, patting your side. “I think I fell asleep for a moment—I was so comfortable here.”

He laughs in spite of himself, and you give him a breathless chuckle in return. “Sorry if I made your side sore.” You get off of him, scooting over to give him a little room to sit up straight.

“Sore?” he asks incredulously. “Y/N, you’re like a feather. I’m not that breakable.”

Boy, did you know. Thoughts of his muscular stomach flash in your mind, and you will them away. He watch him reach up to close the trunk as people begin to move outside of the car, cocooning you two back into a comfortable darkness from the tints on the back windows.

“Still.”

“Still, what?” he says. There’s a small silence that ensues. “You’re so nervous around me. Is it me?”

“What?” you say, furrowing your brow. Your skin pricks with the same nervousness that you are about refute. “I mean—”

“I know I’m pretty standoffish at the pool, but I don’t mean to be that way,” he admits. “I just felt like I was in this new place with all of these established relationships and rules. You have Jihyo, and well, Hoseok and I are close, but we’re not best friends.” He pauses. “I was really surprised when Jihyo invited me out with you all.”

“Surprised,” you repeat quietly.

His words absolutely contradict the Jungkook you thought you knew. But maybe that’s how it would always be—you realizing he had his own motives and reasons for being the way he was, and you not understanding a bit of it until he decided to divulge you in them.

“Yeah, surprised,” he nods. “I feel out of place, here. If I’m being honest.”

“But you live here.”

“I don’t have any friends though, because I’m gone for nine months out of the year,” he says, shrugging. “I didn’t have any in high school, either. It was just—I don’t know. I didn’t like it here, so I didn’t see a reason to have any ties.”

You can’t really wrap your head around it, but you realize Jungkook is being vulnerable to you in this moment. You don’t want to make him regret it, so you reach out to him—the closest thing to you is his hand, resting on the duvet between you two—and you run your fingers over the soft skin in a timid, unsure fashion.

“Jihyo and I will never say no to new additions to our friend circle,” you say with a smile. “It gives us reasons not to kill each other if someone else is watching.”

Jungkook chuckles a little, holding your gaze. The trunk of the car is still closed, and most of the crowd has dispersed to other parts of the beach where the boardwalk is still alive and filled with weekend nightlife.

“That’s good to know,” Jungkook says softly, looking down at your hands on the blanket. He slides his underneath yours and links his fingers through the spaces in between.

“Y/N—” he says, leaning closer to you, “—thanks. Really.”

You lean closer as well, feeling the magnetism of your two bodies being pulled together in the dark. Your breath comes out in unmeasured puffs, threatening to give away how nervous you are. You’re glad Jungkook can’t really see you anymore, and you’re certainly glad he can’t hear the unsteady beat of your heart as your faces inch closer and closer. As the quiet of the night cocoons you two like a soft blanket, there is no noise other than your heartbeat in your ears as Jungkook’s mouth hovers over your own.

You feel his unsteady sigh outwards as he says, “Are you sure you’re not—”

You use your remaining courage to stop him before he can finish his sentence, closing the distance between your mouths into a soft, sweet kiss. It stays that way for a moment—closed-mouth and innocent—before Jungkook brings his hand to the back of your head and deepens it, pressing his mouth hard against your own in a way that is a command all in its own.

Your lips part involuntarily and Jungkook’s tongue presses softly against the ridge of your mouth, tracing the outline until he is exploring the inside with ease and expertise. As your tongues lace together, you find yourself placing heavy hands on his chest, slightly wrinkling the collar of his shirt with your nails before you slide your hands up and over his shoulders and hook them together behind his neck.

Your head tilts to the right and you push back against him, following the energy and putting it into the most passionate kissing session you’ve had—well, ever. Jungkook places his hands on your hips and pulls you over him so that you are straddling his waist, his experience showing as he places you right on top of his hardening member. You have no choice but to feel it between your thighs and the thin material of your bike shorts—a decision you certainly didn’t realize would come in handy when you’d picked them out a few hours ago in your bedroom closet.

You two kiss and kiss and kiss, getting lost within each other for what feels like hours. You can’t allow yourself to disassociate and think about anything other than what was happening in the moment—although there was a part of your brain that couldn’t believe it was happening, surely.

You were kissing Jungkook. Jungkook was kissing you—no, it was more than that. He was touching you: his hands making a lazy trail up your back, in between your shoulder blades and over the hump of your shoulders until they entangled in your hair and kept your mouth criminal to his. He was breathing you in: making a trail away from your mouth, down your jaw and neck, where he settled on sucking small, reddened splotches into the thin skin just around the collar of your pullover. You want more of him, but more would have to wait.

Jungkook pauses underneath you, much more intact with the real world than you are because he shushes you politely so that you can hear it: the tell-tale sound of your phone humming the vibrations of an incoming call.

“It’s Jihyo,” he says in the darkness, allowing the brightness of your screen to illuminate your faces, inches apart. He hands it to you, and you clear your throat in an attempt to sound less breathless than you actually are as you greet your friend.

“Where are you?” she asks—but it sounds more like a demand. “I know the movie is over by now. You haven’t answered my texts. Are you okay?”

“What?” you say but shake your head. “I’m fine, sorry. Jungkook and I were trying to find our way out of the theatre parking lot. It’s really crowded over here so we had to wait for our turn.”

In the light of your phone pressed against your cheek, you can just barely make out Jungkook’s knowing smirk in the dark.

“Hoseok and I are waiting at Pier 14. Did you two still want to get dinner?”

Jungkook nods in answer, leaning forward a little to press his lips softly against the center of your throat while you talk. You take a calming breath in and out as he mouths at the skin there, swiping his tongue over the space lightly before continuing to kiss away any of your troubles. You close your eyes again, feeling like you’re disappearing under his soft touch before you realize Jihyo is still waiting on your answer.

“Dinner sounds good,” you manage. “Text me an address—you and Hoseok can choose. I don’t care.”

You hang up before she can protest. Your mouth hovers over Jungkook’s, lips pressed together in a solid line.

“That wasn’t very nice,” you admonish him, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. “I was trying to talk.”

“I know,” he says in a soft tone, breathing out a laugh. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You better.”

He gives you one last lingering kiss—one that steals the breath from your lungs and makes you feel lightheaded before he lets you go. You feel warm all over as you two crawl toward the front of his car, returning to your seats while stealing knowing glances at each other.

You don’t want to dwell on the thoughts too much, but a lot had changed in the last hour that you couldn’t even wrap your head around, much less understand and come to accept. Your lips tingle as your mind flies through the events again, attempting to see you and Jungkook from a third-person perspective in your mind, but really just focusing on the way it felt when he was kissing you, touching you, breathing you in.

You knew one thing for certain, though: your pact with yourself was up. You weren’t just diving into the shallow anymore. You were in the deep end.

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fic #bts scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts butter #bts jungkook #honeyedhoseok #blue

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kakubun · 3 years

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Teams Seeing Their Manager In A Maid Outfit

teams: seijoh x gen!reader, inarizaki x gen!reader

requests are open???

i forgot to say this was inspired by @luvbub 's manager in bunny suit hcs, i love her headcannons 💖💖

Seijoh

i've been trying to think what kind of maid outfit y/n would wear- UGH

like do vines wrap around their arms to represent plants- IDK SJBEK

but tbh you would rock a crown on your head and a maid outfit as well

it was embarassing, to prance around in a poofy maid dress that's why you're stuck in the clubroom, not ready to skip around with your maid dress

ah yes, you regretted having friends as they dared you to wear a maid outfit till the end of practise

what's annoying you is that the crown on your head keeps slipping so it rolled off when you wanted to get up and face the team in your maid outfit

it rolled and stopped at someone's feet and you slapped a hand over your mouyh and darted your eyes immediately to whoever it was and it was oikawa.. AND THE WHOLE TEAM- WHAT

"and why is our manager in a maid outfit?" oikawa snickered and iwaizumi crossed his arms but he can't hide his obvious staring even if he tried to

"it was a dare.. sorry to keep everyone waiting, i know i'm like 5 minutes late" you bowed to apologize and yahaba had a nosebleed when the skirt hikes up to reveal your thighs in those cute thigh highs you were wearing

you walked past everyone, grabbing your crown and kept your head up to assert dominance but you did not when you especially look adorable with your cheeks puffed out

kunimi couldn't stop staring and he was aware that he was suppose to stop

yahaba's still recovering from his nosebleed

kindaichi just watched your movements, how your shoes made clicking noises when you walk, your flimsy skirt and the crown that was tilting back

watari respects women, so he shifted his eyes to his feet so he wouldn't think about anything else

you still were pissy about oikawa's comment earlier and you shot him a death stare at him (which made chills run down the first and second's years spines and made oikawa twitch as well as kyoutani even though the stare wasn't to him)

oikawa: hey cutie, can-

you: *hisses*

the other third years couldn't take you seriously, you look like you didn't belong in the school but rather a dress up party just somewhere NOT at school

you look like a lost maid cafe worker in a club of sweaty boys playing volleyball

the meme team couldn't stop poking fun at you, iwaizumi jut ignored you but he just couldn't help but let go of his tough demeanor when anyone calls you and the skirt would swish around

(except you knew makki and mattsun was just playing with you so you didn't give them the satisfaction and turn around)

oikawa: i'm sorry y/n!!!

you: i'm being petty, go away

makki: just one picture y/n!!!

you: you also shut up, *fixes your crown*

since you didn't pay attention to oikawa's begging for forgiveness ghat means your full attention was on the clock and when it was time, you ran to the changing room and immediately got in your school uniform

still ignoring oikawa, you had an idea

you: hey can you two-

makki and mattsun: yes, royalty?

you: shut it, anyway *pspspspspsps*

the day ended with you complementing oikawa in your maid dress that barely fit him and mattsun and makki managed to snap a few pictures embarass him

little did you know, mattsun manage to snap pictures of YOU and they're probably gonna edit you two working in a maid cafe or something

(wait LMAO wat if they two idiots decided to do posters of them, stuck it around school and make oikawa suffer with his crowd of fangirls thinking there was an actual cafe of him and y/n JSGSKDBKD)

Inarizaki

you didn’t wanna go in but your friends were ready to kick you into the gym if you keep complaining about their idea

you were wearing fox ears and a tail representing the team and you tried punching your friends from opening the gym doors but once managed to slide the door open and kicked you in

you fumbled around with your maid dress and you were still when you heard kita

“y/n, why are you in a maid dress?”

c h a o s

were they complimenting you or giving you snarky comments cause you can’t hear anymore

probs both but you coughed dryly and loudly to get their attention

“listen i know i look ridiculous right now but-” chaos erupted again just to tell you, you looked perfectly fine

“SHUT IT, i know i look like this due to a dare but don’t let me distract you. now get back to practise,” you clapped multiple times to get their attention back to what they’re doing

you looked too sweet to not comment about, your drooping fox ears and your fox tail that swishes when you got up from the bench to pick up the paper you dropped from the pile of paperwork you had next to you

how innocent you looked when on a daily basis, you would bite off any of the boys’ heads if they said anything inappropriate about what you’re wearing

break!!

osamu sat down next to you pulling out something from his bad and atsumu kept flirting with you, telling you how you could be their ‘school mascot’

“i don’t want your fangirls to bite my head off” you objected to his pervy request and looked away from his indecent staring and smirk from playing with your fox ears and looked at osamu who had onigiri out

“i made carrot onigiris” you sighed dreaming, making osamu smirk at his brother that was shaking his fist

“bunny maid..” aran looked at kita when he wiped the sweat off his hands and hummed in confusion

aran saw you eating onigiri and thought how perfect it would be if your fox ears would twitch indicating your liking of osamu’s onigiris and he smiled to that thought

“sorry ignore me, that slipped out,” kita apologized when he had said his thoughts, he just wondered how it would look if you dressed up as a bunny maid instead

he would remember this when he has to feed his grandma’s bunnies

(i’m sorry but the thought of kita softly looking at a pile of bunnies make me a a a a a aa)

suna would pull on your tail and you look at him with your glare and pull back your tail from his hand and he managed to snag a pic of your pout and your embarassing appearance

suna and atsumu is obssesed with how you looked, they would play with your ears for hours to annoy you

atsumu: hehe fox tail fox tail

y/n: h *bites him*

suna: 🚶‍♀️

finally, you could go home now

you walked with akagi and osamu since they haven’t annoyed you yet

“hey y/n, are you going home in that?” akagi murmured, scared you’ll get in trouble

“ my so called friends took my clothes so i’m going to one of their houses”

“you could go home with me and show off that maid dress you got on~”

you should’ve known they’re equally as worse

but akagi said that in a rather cheeky tone while osamu said that with s m u g painted on his tone

y/n: you live in the same house as atsumu and akagi, no-

and you ran before any of them commented

#seijoh x reader #seijoh x manager #seijoh #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x manager #haikyū!!#aoba johsai x reader #aoba johsai #aoba josai x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x manager #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki x you

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broadstflyers · 3 years

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A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic! It's really just an idea I've had for months, and then wrote, and then couldn't figure out which hockey boy it fit, until some mutuals were kind enough to help. I settled on our boy Barzy! It's inspired by Taylor Swift's "Gold Rush", and I really wanted to do my best in reflecting the beautiful imagery this story creates for me. I hope I did it justice. It's a little terrifying putting my writing out there, but I hope people enjoy it!

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Two curse words, it's really just internal conflict within the reader

Summary: You're celebrating your dad's 50th birthday with some friends and family at a dinner party. You happen to land your eyes on a beautiful stranger, who you can't seem to get out of your head. You spend the rest of the night wondering, should you go up to him?

Or do you let him walk out the door?

___________

They say when you first lay eyes on your soulmate, time stands completely still. As you gaze into their eyes, it feels as though you’ve known them for multiple lifetimes. It feels like home. Is that even remotely true?

You start to take a sip of your drink and turn your head slightly to take in your surroundings. Your eyes dance around the room, until they stumble upon another pair of wondering eyes. Your eyes lock, and you’re instantly sucked into the mysterious yet intriguing twinkling grey-blue color that compliments his navy blue suit. Suddenly, your breath hitches in your throat, every part of your body stiffens, except for your lips that part slightly and eyes that widen. The drink is long forgotten, you’re even struggling to keep it from practically falling out of your hands and onto the wooden floor. The party is now just a blur, the noise? What noise? The world is muffled, as if someone stuck your head into a hundred pillows. Images stream through your mind like an endless movie reel wrapped in shimmery gold. Endless laughter on a first date over coffee. Him rubbing the back of your hand as you take a stroll through the park. Holiday mornings, exchanging gifts. Would he participate in the tradition of opening small gifts first, or would he want the biggest gift right off the bat? Ice skating and him catching you as you stumble on a pesky track in the ice. Him tossing you into the pool while you’re trying to put up a fight in a losing battle. A sweet and quiet proposal where he promises his forever love. A kiss at the altar in front of all your friends and family. Chasing after rambunctious little kids trying to get them to nap. All these gold dripping images of a pure love plow through your brain. Your heart is the unmovable object. They are the unstoppable force.

You and him only shared a look for what was probably half a second, but the thick air that seemed to only be affecting you made time feel like it stood completely still.

You burst back into reality with the help of a slight head shake. “Woah,” you quietly whisper. You blink a few times and finally get around to taking a sip of your drink to quench your parched throat. Did you just see a whole future...with a stranger?

“Hey, are you okay?” Stella asks. Her hand gently touches your arm as she cocks her head to the side. Her brows are furrowed in what can only be described as pure confusion. Did you really space out that badly as she was talking? What were you guys even talking about?

“Oh,” you say as you gently shake your head, “yeah.” You chuckle, “yeah, I’m just fine.” You wait a beat then say, “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom really quickly, okay?”

“Sure thing,” she nods. “Do you need me to come with?”

“I’m totally fine, I promise,” you reassure with every bone in your body while giving her your drink. You really just needed to be alone to calm your racing mind that has now turned a complete stranger into a romantic interest with the power of a golden montage.

You make your way over to the exit of the dining hall and push the creaky open with your shoulder, and the amount of force you had to use honestly hurt. Your heels click down the tiled hallway of the golf club to find the bathroom door. The rectangular bathroom mirror framed in an intricate gold design holds your reflection. You slightly tilt your head as you take a look at your face. It’s like someone took the color of a clown nose and colored in your face with it. Jeez. You shake your head and sigh. This isn’t good, and deep down, you know that. You hate when you’re like this, all flustered over someone who just happened to lock eyes with you. His eyes. They were gleaming and just all around beautiful. What were you thinking again?

Oh, right.

Well, it’s pretty obvious he has this power over you, and you don’t like that. Now is your face going to become red everytime you see him? You check your phone. There’s still two hours left, plenty of time to possibly see him again. You can’t tell if that’s necessarily a good or bad thing.

You pace around the bathroom trying to reason with your begging heart. He was pretty good looking, which means that so many people naturally want him. Who was he even talking to, anyways? You gasp and stop in your tracks, blood running cold. “He was talking to a girl,” you mumble. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t sound completely and utterly crushed. In the heat of the moment, you completely failed to realize the blonde standing next to him. You lean over the counter, the cold marble feeling on your arms making your arms break out in goosebumps. You take one last stern look in the mirror at your face. “See, this is why we can’t allow ourselves to fall that hard,” you whisper angrily, “everyone wants him, and I just...I don’t like a gold rush like that.” You shake your head again and take one last deep breath to shake out any other thoughts. You can see yourself standing barefooted at the bottom of a hole looking astounded at how tall the walls have grown, and how distant the light looks. It feels like you soared lightheartedly into the sky, just to fall and crush every bone in your body.

You roll your eyes to yourself while slightly cursing yourself out. Pushing the bathroom door open, you step out into the hallway and make a beeline back for the dining hall. Your purse starts spastically vibrating, so you hastily fish your phone out to put an end to the obnoxious noise. Scanning the text, you read that your mom is asking where you went, as the cake for your dad’s birthday is going to be cut soon. You sigh as you text, “I’m hurrying back now.”

That’s all you see before you feel a slight brush tickle your bare shoulder. Your eyes don’t dare move from your phone screen. You reason that it’s not someone you know, as they would have said something to you. Your hands shake as you put your phone back in your purse.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice trails off as he continues to walk down the hallway after he brushed up against you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, without turning around, which is admittedly ridiculous.

As soon as you can judge his footsteps are far away enough, you make a quick glance behind to see if it really was him. And judging by the navy blue suit, it was.

Suddenly, the golden montage flows through your mind once more, showing an image of yourself wearing an old shirt of his, maybe one from when he was in high school for whatever sport he played, if he played one. Your feet feel the coolness of the wooden floor of the supposed home. The home both of you share? It’s so tangible, so real that you almost reach out to touch it. It’s right there...

Your head jerks yourself out of the vision once more, or rather the fact that you’re now faced with a white wall in front of you. You sigh a long frustrated sigh. I can’t believe I really walked by the entrance, how embarrassing, you think as you turn on your heels to backtrack. Why does this stranger have you so wrapped around his finger? No one else has been able to even come close to doing that. You feel your face with your hand, and it’s burning. I’ll go in there looking like a tomato, it’s fine.

You do your best to quite literally shake off those thoughts as you push open the dining room hall door. “There you are!” your mom says. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, we’re going to sing happy birthday to Dad.”

“Can’t wait,” you beam. After all, your dad only turns 50 once, and this night is about him, afterall. You follow your mom to a table with a white tablecloth resting on it.

Stella pops out from behind your dad to approach you and whispers, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You resist the urge to gently shove her in front of everyone. “Yes,” you pleadingly insist, “now stop asking me in front of Mom and Dad, they’ll think something is wrong.”

She side eyes you with an attitude. “Fine.”

“They’re my girls,” your dad says with a smile.

You and Stella laugh while leaning into him for a quick hug. “Hey dad,” you both say in unison.

The room completely dies down, people could hear a pin drop. “Ready?” your mom asks the guests. The room takes a collective deep breath.

And so the melody of Happy Birthday rings joyously through the hall, you can see the mystery stranger out of the corner of your eye. Heat radiates off your skin, it’s almost like you can feel his eyes boring into you. It takes all the willpower you can muster, but you resist the temptation to look over at him all throughout the song.

When the song is over, the room breaks out into obnoxiously loud clapping. You, Stella, and your parents share loving looks and warm smiles.

Eventually, everyone proceeds to return to normal chatter at the one rectangular table of two that they’re sitting at, and so do you, Stella and your parents.

You pull out your seat next to your sister near the middle of the middle of the table and sit, fixing your dress.

“Ahem,” Stella says in an ill attempt to cover her suspiciousness with a clearing throat noise. Queue whatever accusatory question she’s got.

“Let me just set something straight,” she starts.

“Go for it,” you say as you reach for some water.

“It’s definitely that guy a few seats down, isn’t it?” She smirks. She’s got you trapped in her little web, and she knows it.

You may or may not have fought back choking on your water or pulling a ridiculous spit take on the nice white table cloth.

You lean in and harshly whisper, “Well you didn’t have to say it that loudly.” You glance over at the mystery stranger and see his hand wrapped around his glass as he goes to drink it. He has a thick silver ring on his pointer finger?

“Hello?” Stella shifts her head to selfishly cut off your view of him.

“Okay,” you sigh in defeat, “yes it’s him. Happy?”

“Very,” she says, very satisfied because she finally pried it out of you and got you to admit it. Someone else has you wrapped around their finger. She didn’t even have to know all the details of the montages to know. She could tell by the way your eyes glossed over and how your lips would slightly part like you were in a hazy daydream.

And you were.

“Who is he anyway? And why don’t we know him?” You ask.

“I don’t know, honestly. A little strange, isn’t it? Why don’t you ask mom who he is?” She suggests, but her cheshire smile suggests that she will somehow find out, with or without your mom’s help.

“But mom’s going to absolutely harass me until I say something to him. Just you on my tail is enough,” you say with an eyebrow raised as to say ‘don’t test me.’ And Stella knows you’re right.

“Alright, fine,” she concedes, “But why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to him?”

“I did,” you nonchalantly float.

Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an “O” from disbelief. Did you really not talk to people that much?

“Really?” she practically squeals.

“Yeah, he brushed by me and said, ‘Sorry’ so I said, ‘It’s okay.’” Okay, now you get why your friends and family get mad at you for refusing to talk to people. But cracking this joke was one you could not pass up.

Her face scrunches up and she exhibits the biggest eye roll you have ever seen. She opens her mouth to start saying something, probably to scold at you, but you open your mouth to cut her off first.

“Alright no, I haven’t. And do you know why?” As you’re about to get your thought out, you’re interrupted by a fit of laughter down the stretch of the table. Your eyes scan but freeze on the stranger, whose nose is adorably scrunched up as he laughs with multiple, yes multiple, people about goodness knows what. And there’s that other blonde that you still don’t know, laughing with him. You tear your stare away and focus back on your sister.

“Look, that right there. That’s why,” you say, anger burning through your chest.

Stella raises an eyebrow in her own judgemental manner. “He talks to people? You know people do that right?”

Now it’s your turn to return the favor of a judgemental eye roll. “No, Stella, I mean just look at him and the people he’s surrounded by. It’s so obvious that everyone wants him. Just look at that girl with him. I’m not the only one who wants to love him.”

Silence ensues between you two. She picks up her phone and shoots a quick text. After a moment she says, “Well, I think if you just talked to him, you’d be pleasantly surprised with what could happen. I have to help mom with distributing gift bags. You stay here,” she instructs.

You can only assume you’re not being called to help because Stella graciously told your mom that you’re potentially working up the courage to talk to someone that’s not one of your three friends or your family. How generous of her.

A few friends of your dad stop by your seat to say goodbye before they head out. The noise slightly dies down enough to scarcely hear some other conversations. You hear nothing out of the ordinary, just a girl talking about getting into her dream school to some guy. Your ears slightly move as you pick up on a voice that sounds like the one in the hallway earlier.

“Yeah dude, but did you see the fake out on the goalie on the second goal? That had to have been the best part.”

Out of instinct you open your mouth to interject, but quickly shut it and put it under lock and key. You blink in disbelief. Hockey? Did this man just speak on hockey?

You circle the rim of the coffee cup and stare at the brown liquid. In a different universe…

In a different universe you would have actually kept your mouth open, and maybe even squeezed some words out, too.

“Actually, that seamless stretch pass down the neutral zone from the defenseman after a pretty difficult forecheck set up the play pretty well. I’d give him a lot of credit, too.”

He’d probably look a little shocked, as do most guys when you interject your two-sense about hockey. But maybe he’d break out into a small smile and offer a rebuttal. Yeah, that sounds nice. Maybe one day…

Maybe one day you’ll be sitting next to him on the couch, watching a game while cuddling and brushing the hair out of his face. Oh who are you kidding, you’ll be up and screaming at the TV. It’s your staple.

A noise of someone dropping something behind you slightly startles you and pulls you out of your once again golden daydream. You finally stop mindlessly circling the rim of your coffee cup to take a sip, but only to find it’s now ice cold.

This is why you hate looking through a pair of rose colored glasses. It distracts you from enjoying things. You glance over at your dad who’s still talking to one of his good friends that lingered after festivities. You’re supposed to be celebrating him right now, but instead you’re literally stuck in this cursedly pure golden daydream that is almost too good to break.

You can see him. He’s still there, at the end of the table, chatting away with some dude. The blonde left at some point, though.

“Well, I gotta head out, man, good to see you. My sister needs help with packing her stuff for college tomorrow, so we’ve got a busy day coming up.”

Could that girl have been his sister?

“Congratulations to her on getting into her dream school by the way,” the guy says. “I talked to her when she was here earlier, and she seemed super excited.”

A wave of cool relief washes over your body, remembering the conversation about college you picked up on earlier. It was his sister.

“Yeah she is, she worked really hard, and it also involved a whole lot of crying,” he chuckles.

Ain’t that right, you think to yourself.

The table shakes as he pushes out of his chair. Your eyes remain glued to your coffee cup no matter how much you want them to move. You just can’t gather the courage to say something, and you’re cursing yourself for it. You don’t want to sit here and dream about him anymore. You want to actually let these things happen, for once. You want to just unleash all these swirling and sickeningly sweet emotions from your body and drown him in it. You want so badly to leap up and say something, anything. Step on those voices taunting you and mocking you saying that it could never happen, it could never be so it will never be. He’s so inviting that you can’t resist any longer. You go to reach out to him, but the door shuts before you know it.

And just as fleeting as he came,

He’s gone.

Fuck. It feels as though a brick is sitting on your chest, suffocating you. You really let your worries control you, and this time it feels as though you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. You just can’t believe you let it happen when your mind was begging you to talk to him. You always do-

“Shit,” you mumble. In your frustration, you knocked over the remnants of the coffee onto the not-so-white-anymore table cloth. Tears prickle up in your eyes, your throat closes, and your nose begins to sting. You quickly swallow these emotions down your throat and begin to use a napkin to soak up the excess coffee. Drinks have really not been your friend tonight.

For the first time, you notice as you clean that it’s just you left in the room, besides a few people cleaning up on the other end. You’re not sure where your family has gone, but you haven’t received any texts prompting you to leave yet. It’s so silent that you can hear some muffled chatter down the hall.

Suddenly, you hear the same creak of the door open with an “oof” that doesn’t quite sound like your dad. Your blood runs cold and you freeze mid press into the tablecloth. You glance up without turning around to see a lone jacket hanging on a chair suspiciously close to the chair he previously sat in. Your eyes widen and dart around the room, but you dare not move, waiting to see what he does. Even after cursing yourself out for ten minutes while cleaning up spilled coffee, you still haven’t learned to make the first move. His presence feels like a forcefield, you can feel it heavily pressing into your back.

But he isn’t moving to grab the jacket, no.

A pointer finger with a silver ring taps your shoulder.

“Hey,” the clarity of his voice rings in your ears like a bell. Your heart is racing so fast that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage and run its own 10k. You slowly crank your head around to meet his eyes for the first time-- face to face.

And you must say, his face is really pretty when you actually talk to him face to face. Maybe you should do this more often. You take in his golden features, and struggle to hide a small smirk creeping up on your face. His messy hair falls perfectly into place on his head, and his kind face makes you feel as though a mess of metallic gold swirls are playfully swirling and dashing around you both. You’ve found him in this lifetime.

“I’m Mat, can I help you clean up before I grab my jacket?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #mat barzal x reader

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in-superbloom · 3 years

Text

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

♡ last but not least - 1k words comments welcome

You twirl in the mirror twice, checking your reflecting before smoothing down your casual, yet somewhat dressy buffalo plaid dress. Debating if you should change.

Again.

For the fifth time.

Your boyfriend watches from the door jamb sighing as he pushes himself off the frame. Gliding into the reflective glass he stand tall behind you, his red hair relaxed as he's pulled it back into a little bun. He pulls you by your hips to him as he nuzzles your neck with his nose, your perfume tickles his nose and he inhales deeply.

"Ready to go?" He purrs and you shrug, biting at your lipstick clad lip.

"I don't know, is this too casual? Too dressy? Should I wear jeans? You're in jeans but also a button down shirt…" You look at his outfit, black jeans and a buffalo plaid button up that matches. The thought unintentional. He sighs letting his ruby eyes fall over your gorgeous frame.

"Baby, I promise you they'll love you. They won't care what you wear or how you look, they only care about how you make me feel." He kisses the rapid pulse in your throat swaying you on your feet, "And baby you make me feel good."

You relax into his touch, swaying in time with his feet.

"Yea,okay." You agree to probably the most agreeable man in the world. His eyes light up soothing some of your nervousness.

But not all of it and it returns full force as he pulls up to his old childhood home.

"Baby." You grab onto his hand, squeezing his fingers with all of your might. He brings your hand to his lips, a chaste kiss on your knuckles just before he speaks.

"Just smile baby, that's all it will take for them to fall in love with you. That's all it took for me." His words make your heart flutter, he exits the car when he sees you've calmed down. Opening the passenger side door for you, offering his hand for help that you gladly take. The street is quiet, the snow falling silently to rest on the tops of warm homes and bare outstretched branches.

It is a stark difference to the volume of the home that can be heard through the wreath clad door. Kirishima offers a shy sharp toothed smile.

"I told you we're a loud family." He grabs for the door knob, "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Sweat collects on your brow as he opens the door, stepping out of his shoes as you follow suit. He isn't given much time before his mother hears the door, rushing into the foyer with excitement. She gasps loudly as she takes in the sight of her strong son.

"My baby Eijirou!" She exclaims coming closer to cup his cheeks, she dots on him for a moment.

"Hey momma." He kisses her on the cheek before her thin hands move to you, cupping your face gently, "You must be the girlfriend I've heard so much about. Kamisama your smile is so bright!"

"He-hello ma'am." She gives you a pointed look before dropping your face to grab at your hands.

"It's okaasan. Now come, come. You have the whole family to meet." She pulls you with ease to the rest of the party while you give Kirishima a panicked look over your shoulder. All he can do is shrug his as he follows closely behind.

"Everyone look! It's baby Eijirou's girlfriend we've all heard such good things about!" She introduces you and the crowd of family shouts back a warm hello, "It's a pleasure to finally have you here. Please make yourself at home."

She squeezes your hand before stepping closer to her son to give him a long hug before disappearing into the kitchen. Kirishima grabs your hand and introduces you individually to well over twenty people making your anxiety skyrocket as you try your best to remember their names.

"And this is Sobo." He says, bringing you to a woman who hardly looked to be a grandmother. You bow your head and she laughs in response.

"So formal among family." She says softly, patting the chair beside her. You slip into the chair with ease, "Eji, dear get us something to drink while we talk?"

Your eyes grow wide, pleading for him not to leave the two of you alone, he offers a soft smile before saying.

"I'll be right back Sobo." And with that he turns on his heel, leaving the two of you tucked away in the corner of the large room to look over the family. Kirishima is stopped on his way to the kitchen more times than you can count as you wait for the shoe to drop.

This was it, this was where you would get the talk of how Kirishima was too good for you and that the sooner you left him the better. She opens her mouth to speak and you grind your teeth.

"What is it about my grandson that you love?" She turns to you, ruby red eyes glistening beneath the twinkling lights. Silence envelops your small corner as the smell of food wafts your way. Swallowing thickly you speak the truth.

"He is kind, it is almost otherworldly. He is strong, brave and never afraid to show emotion or to be vulnerable. He is a man who was raised well and I love him for him." It all slips out as you watch him laugh with his cousins, a smile that you always wear when you gaze at him.

Sobo watches you, your eyes, your demeanor and when she knows the words you speak are true. She smiles herself.

"Let me show you something." She says softly, pulling at a book on the nearby bookshelf. She settles back into her chair setting it on the dark wood table. She flips the cover open and points at the first black and white picture of a handsome man with long dark hair.

"This was my husband and I loved him dearly. Eijirou reminds me a lot of him, so you can see he is precious to me." She begins, her frail finger pointing out their wedding photo next, "I need to know he will be loved and safe. If I could keep him from ever knowing pain I would."

You nod in agreement wanting nothing more than to keep your man pure of heart and pain free.

"But life doesn't work that way. In all my years I've learned that the hard way." She flips the pages again, as you watch her belly swell with each image, her family growing before your eyes. Finally she flips to her children's children, all or them amassed or spread across the pages. You are a young Kirishima with black hair in a still frame.

"So I must trust in the people he surrounds himself with. People can say things but never mean it. His close friend Bakugou is a great example. He is harsh and pigheaded but I know he would protect my grandson with his life." She sighs looking over the photos as you glance at her face. She smiles meeting your eyes, "I'd like to thank I can put my trust into you as well."

She leaves no room for you to respond before she flips a few pages back, telling stories of each captured moment.

Kirishima finally makes it to the kitchen after spending a half an hour trying to keep his talking to a minimum. But he couldn't blame his family it had been months since he had seen most of them and besides it's not as if Sobo would say anything rude to you even if she somehow disapproved of you. He pours a cup of tea and a mixed drink for you. Gently pushing his way through the crowd with the drinks as an excuse not to linger.

Finally the two of you come into view and he freezes in his tracks. The first thing he sees is the frayed edges of the book. The family album spread open before you as Sobo shares the treasured memories.

Tears form in his eyes as he watches the scene unfold in disbelief. Of all his girlfriends he is glad Sobo has bonded with you. The others were only tolerated and even the one he brought multiple years in a row never even knew of the family album. But there you sat, smiling, laughing with Sobo who's crows feet giving her a certain type of magic. He sighs, holding the breath he didn't even know he was holding. Walking towards two women that held his heart.

"You ladies having fun?" He asks, setting down the glasses as he looks over Sobo's shoulder.

"Eijirou, I think you should let your black hair come back! Look at how cute you were!" You exclaim pointing to an old photo. He cannot help but smile, fingers absentmindedly feeling at his strands. Sobo looks up at him while you gush over the album pulling her attention back with more questions. Sobo secretly grabs for Kirishima's hand and slips something small and cool into his palm.

When he pulls his hand away he notices the old small ring biting his lip to keep his tears in.

Not that he needed his grandmother's approval for what he was already planning to do in the new year but it was definitely a relief to have. He smiles down at the women clothing the old ruby ring in his hand as he fights to keep his voice even.

"I'll leave you two to your fun. I'm sure we'll make memories for the album soon enough"

#kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha holiday #bnha holiday special #bnha fluff #kirishima fluff

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cerise-angel · 3 years

Text

Rumor - Na Jaemin

College!Jaemin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, a little smutty, Coffee, Shower stuff, Bad roommates, cliché as hell.

Word count: 2060

Hi everyone!! Believe it or not I've been wanting to post this ever since Hot Souce, and finally I'm doing it! Let me know what you guys think, and yes I'm currently in NCT Dream hell.

Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Constructive criticism is always apprecciated!

Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors, english is not my first language.

Thanks for reading!

The photo is from his IG, the editing is mine.

--------------------------------------------

Working on Saturday mornings really did piss you off. First you had to wake up at 7am, walk for about 10 quarters, change into that stupid skirt and apron and deal with your not so happy boss. You held back the urge of rolling your eyes when said boss came to talk to you.

“Table 04 is full. Is the kids from your college I guess?”

You looked into Table 04 direction. Oh God.

“Can’t someone else go? I’m kind of busy with the dishes.”

It wasn’t a lie. You really were cleaning the dishes. Ok you were almost finishing but there were other employees who were free and could have already went to Table 04. Your boss gave you a bored look.

“They asked for you.”

Shit. Feeling anxious you finished the dishes, trying to take the longest time. It took quite probably only 03 minutes though. You dried your hands on a cloth and tried to control your nerves before leaving the kitchen and heading for Table 04.

“Welcome to Cactus Coffee. How can I help you today?”

You voice sounded anxious and meek, and you hated yourself for that. You looked to the floor not being able to look at him in the yes.

“Good morning, Y/N. You should really wear skirts more often.”

You looked at Donghyuck and gave him a sarcastic smile. You really hated these uniforms, and you had asked multiple times to wear pants instead of the skirt, but your boss wouldn’t let you, because “it was against the franchise rules”.

“Yeah, you should too Donghyuck. Ready to order?”

He laughed at you, clearly enjoying.

“I want a medium latte.”

“Cool. You guys?”

Slowly all the boys ordered. A milky green tea for Mark, a cinnamon cappuccino for Jisung, a vanilla cold brew for Renjun, a strawberry Frappuccino for Jeno and a flat white for Chenle. You were almost leaving, relieved that he hadn’t talk to you, when Na Jaemin, oh so softly, tugged at your skirt.

“I want a white mocha please.”

You felt all the boys’ eyes glue to your face, waiting for your reaction. Your cheeks started to warm up and your palms and armpits to get sweaty. Jesus Christ. You answered back.

“Cool. Please don’t touch the skirt.”

You left as fast as you could, hearing Chenle’s and Donghyuck’s laugh at your antics.

Is not like you had a major crush on Jaemin. Is not that you hated him, or that you two had an unresolved romance. It would be a lot easier if you two already had a romance to start with. The thing is, you two had someone in common. Your roommate who was hooking up with Jaemin.

She never really tried to have a friendship or just a nice convivence with you. Since you moved to her apartment, she basically only talks to you to ask about the bills, or to ask you for help in Math. You cared a lot about it in the beginning, having tried multiple times to show her that you were open to her, initiating talks, baking cakes and all. She never really seemed to give a shit, so you stopped trying.

Things got even weirder between you two, on Thursday, while you were having a shower, Jaemin, thinking you were your roommate walked in. And you two had a shower together. And your roommate arrived and basically saw Jaemin drying your hair in the living room. And then she accused you of being a whore and three minutes later the whole campus thought that you had fucked Na Jaemin on the shower.

“Shit.” You muttered when you realized that you had done Jisung’s order wrong, for the third time. Thinking about what happened and trying to make a coffee clearly didn’t match. One of your coworkers, Ami, who knew about the whole story, came, like an angel, to help you.

“Y/n, I got this. You can stay at the dishes today if you want?”

You nodded smiling. Ami was really great at reading people, and since the whole bath situation she was helping you every time Jaemin, or one of his friends, or even your roommate came to the coffee. You stared at the clock in the wall, there were only more 2 hours to go. You could handle that.

-----------------------------------

When the clock hit 1 pm you were free. Staying at the dishes meant closing the coffee, so you took your time while checking the cashier, taking the trash, turning the lights off and making sure no one had puked in the bathroom. Slowly you took off your skirt, putting on some jeans and a sweatshirt. You sighed.

You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, to see your roommate who would so nicely, call you a bitch and leave. You two weren’t close before that, but this was even worse. You also didn’t want to stay at the park, since the last time it happened Jaemin appeared out of nowhere and you had to leave, simply because you didn’t know what to do.

Finally closing the door of the coffee you cursed at him.

“Fuck you Na Jaemin.”

Different of what your roommate thought, and what the whole campus thought, you and Jaemin did nothing but to actually share a shower. You kept thinking why in the world you didn’t kick him out when he got in. But he looked so soft and nice and he said you smelled like strawberries and washed your hair and you really couldn’t argue. It was a very nice shower.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a small shriek when you heard his voice. Your brain was screaming “GO HOME” and that’s what you planned on doing. Except he tugged at your blouse, and you froze on place.

“I really should not have invaded your shower that day. And I should also have told your roommate that we didn’t do it, and the whole campus.”

It was true. The minute your roommate called you a whore, Jaemin stood up and left, leaving you alone with her screaming at you. You felt angry and ashamed.

“Yeah, you should have.”

Jaemin sighed.

“Can you please look at me? I’ve seen you naked already there nothing to be embarrassed of.”

That’s when you snap. You turn to him, anger filling your lungs and veins before you speak.

“I can’t look at you and there’s nothing to do with me being embarrassed or whatever. You literally went to my apartment every week to hookup with her, and then out of nowhere, for your fucking mistake of not asking who was in the shower, she hates me, to the point she told to fucking move out! Plus, the whole fucking college thinks I’ve slept with you and did that like a bad person, since you were sleeping with my roommate. I’m not embarrassed I’m fucking mad.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened after your sudden rant. The moment his mouth opened the talk back, started to rain. You didn’t move tho. He was complaining you didn’t look at him, well now you were. And now he was the one looking at his feet, embarrassed.

“I didn’t hook up with her every week. It was one time, and then in the morning you helped me to use the airfryer and, God, that’s literally the only reason I kept going back. I wanted to see you. I wanted to touch you. It was heaven to me every time you were around, and she wasn’t there to try to kiss me. I gave you all the possible hints, how the fuck can you be so oblivious?”

Now your eyes widened. You had notice that lots of times Jaemin would come before her. You two would watch some TV and eat nuggets. Sometimes he would flirt with you, or softly touch your knee, or play with your hair. But that was just the way he was to everyone, wasn’t? You looked at him, and now he was pissed. You looked at your shoes, rain starting to pour heavily now.

“Fuck, lets go to my place.”

“What? No. You go to your place, and I go to mine, goodbye.”

Jaemin grunted, pulling you closer to him.

“Your place is 10 blocks away, mine is 2. Stop being so fucking stubborn before you get hypothermia.”

You held back your words. He had a point.

------------------------------

His place was quite neat. You took your soaked shoes and he gave you a pair of slippers to walk around. Jeno was in the living room. You blushed.

“Jeno, I’m going to shower. Y/N too.”

Jeno only nodded, too fixated on the videogame to even listen properly.

You followed Jemin into his room, and after you close the door you spat.

“Im not going to shower with you again Na Jaemin. Don’t even think…”

He kissed you. His warm, soft lips were begging for your response, and after some moments you gave in. He sighed relieved while his hands descended to your waist pulling you closer against him. God if he could merge your body with his he would.

You put your hands on his chest, trying to get some distance so you could think, process and perhaps talk, but Jaemin wasn’t interested in that, pushing you against the door, pressing his warm body against yours.

You couldn’t resist anymore, so you finally put your hands on his shoulders, softly bringing them to his neck, then tugging at his hair. Jaemin moaned, pleased.

“Shower.”

You said softly, when his lips left yours. He nodded, hugging you and walking sloppily to the bathroom. His bathroom smelled like fennel soap, which you weren’t expecting. Jaemin slowed down, turning the shower on, and helping you get undressed. You felt your whole body getting hotter when his hands traced your spine.

“I’ve seen you like this before but is such a blessing that I can see it again.”

You had sure your legs had turned into slime at the very moment, but somehow you managed to keep yourself straight. Jaemin smiled at your flushed face and gestured towards the shower.

“Let me turn it on, it has a little secret to get warm water.”

You giggled. Jaemin turned on the shower and pulled you closer to him, below the hot water. His skin was a little cold, and in a bold moment, you decided to hug his back. You pressed yourself against his skin, feeling a little feverish. Jaemin felt goosebumps run through his body, and turned in your embrace, facing your glossy and now wet face.

Jaemin kissed you, softly and slowly, as if he were testing the waters. You put your hands on his neck, pulling him even closer, and he did the same, wrapping his arms on your waist. You started to feel dazed, the heat of the water and Jaemin working on you. His hands were everywhere, on your breasts, your waist, your back, your ass. Slowly, you started to do the same, touching him, gluing your lips to his neck, moaning his name.

You touched his member earning a low grunt in response. His hands went back to your ass, rubbing and squeezing it.

“Do you want to fuck me in the shower?”

Jaemin smiled, nodding eagerly. His hands, oh so slowly, made their way to your thighs, picking you up. You two were so close to actually doing it, then he slipped.

“Oh shit, shit.”

Jaemin dropped you, in a desperate attempt to not fall on his ass. You started laughing, and helped him to steady in place, admiring how adorable he looked frustrated, with his ears becoming hot red, and his face in a shy smile. He hugged you close, laughing with you.

“I think, we could just have a shower first.”

You agreed still smiling.

--------------------------------

“GODDAMN IT JAEMIN!!”

You felt Jaemin smiling before even looking at him. So, after you failed attempt of shower sex, you both had a slow hot shower. And the hot water kinda ran out. Jeno had finally discovered, which made him curse Jaemin.

“Should we do something about it?”

You asked turning on the bed to face him.

“Not really on my plans.”

“What is on your plans?”

Jaemin gave you the most satisfied look, his hands finding the way to the hem of your newly put on shirt.

“You.”

----

Thanks for reading!!

#nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct dream college au #nct dream fluff #jaemin fluff #jaemin boyfriend #nct fanfic

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