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writethelifeyouwant · 2 years

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Made For You | Chapter 6

Summary: Dean and Sam like what they have together, and if screwing your brother screws with the universe’s “grand plan” while they’re at it, then even better. Neither of them has ever cared much for tradition or fate, but it turns out there are some destinies you can’t escape. Sometimes, someone is just made for you.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: Incest Tags: AU, Time Jump, Omegaverse, Alpha!Dean, Harvelle’s Roadhouse, Alpha!Jo, Omega!Reader, flirty Dean, age difference, taboo relationship, scent attraction, innocent reader, Virgin!Reader, romantic reader, true mates, Jo is super pushy, reader is fed up with her shit Word Count: 2.4k Created For: @spnabobingo - Female Alpha

A/N: Sorry for the late post! Some of you might have seen my website or the ask I answered last week – I haven't been feeling very well the past few weeks, so I needed to take a bit of time to catch up with myself. This series will resume posting every Tuesday, as scheduled, from next week.

Series Masterlist

Your POV

You roll your eyes at Jo as she slides into the booth across from you with yet another tray laden with pitchers of cocktails. She flashes you a wink as she grabs your glass and proceeds to pour a luminously blue liquid into it that smells like a candy shop.

“I thought you were supposed to be the adult here,” you shout at your companion over the loud thumping bass of the club music.

Jo had insisted on bringing you along for the ride on her trip into Lincoln this weekend. The reason she’d given your father and her mother, Ellen, had been to introduce you to some of the microbrew suppliers for the Roadhouse. Both parents had thought it was a great idea and were happy that you and Jo were starting to show an interest in how Ellen’s business operated.

You know, however, that the only reason Jo had volunteered to take the quarterly meeting with the suppliers was so she could get laid. Actually, as she had explained to you vividly on the three-hour drive to the city, she was looking to find an omega who wasn’t twice her age, didn’t have a beer belly or a beard, and would let her sit on his face. You really could have done without knowing that last part.

Even though Jo is almost double your age (she’s just a few years younger than your father) she has always felt like more of a big sister than a substitute parent. She acts like she’s still twenty-one at heart, and you could tell the lack of a viable dating scene around your hometown was really starting to wear her down. It was pretty unusual for Alphas to be unmated by her age, and the available patrons at the Roadhouse have been thin on the ground lately. So, even though you aren’t exactly wild about sneaking into a club with the fake ID she had procured for you, you hadn’t had the heart to turn her down when she’d asked you to come with her.

Once you were in the club you stopped worrying so much about being underage. Clearly, no one is checking IDs at the bar here, and you have the admittance stamp claiming you’re twenty-one inked in big, bold digits across the back of your right hand, so as the drinks flow between you and Jo, you start to relax and enjoy yourself. That is, until Jo starts to pester you about your own love life.

“See any alphas you like the look of?” Jo asks you with a smirk as she misses her straw with her mouth trying to drink her own purple cocktail.

“We aren’t here for me,” you point out in accusation. “So how about you tell me if there’s any omegas who are catching your eye.” You take a sip of your cocktail, trying to determine what the flavours are besides sugar, alcohol, and blue, but you’re coming up empty.

“I have my feelers out,” Jo smiles secretively, and you roll your eyes.

“So, what? You’re just going to sit here all night and feel? We drove like three hours for this,” you complain.

“They’ll come to me, just wait and see,” she answers, giving you a look that suggests she thinks she’s being incredibly clever. It’s not that you’re doubting that people will come up and flirt with her, they always do because Jo is positively stunning, but you’re just surprised she’s being so passive about this exercise. She’s typically much more of a hunter.

“I don’t need you to sit here and babysit me,” you say, leaning closer to her over the table, guessing correctly why she might be holding back based on the sheepish expression that flashes on her face. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,” you reassure her.

“Are you suuuuure you don’t see an alpha you want to get to know a little better?” Jo double-checks, her eyes flicking towards the dance floor of the club, and you follow her line of sight to see several guys milling around the edge of the crowd in the centre, all their gazes darting towards your table in a sort of shy optimism.

“I told you in the car, and I’ve told you plenty of times before, I’m not planning on losing my v-card in some random hook-up,” you laugh as Jo pouts childishly. “I’m not getting laid tonight, because I don’t want to. You, on the other hand, clearly need to; so go!” You shoo her out of the booth, stealing her drink from her hand and taking a tentative sip. Deciding you like the purple cocktail better than the blue, you swap her pitcher for yours.

Almost as soon as Jo reaches the dance floor she’s hounded by a group of omegas, all vying for her attention and affection. You smile absently to yourself as you watch her disappear further into the mass of writhing, pheromone-soaked bodies, then you happily settle back into your booth with your phone and Jo’s cocktail.

You’ve always told Jo that you aren’t into the idea of just having sex with someone new whenever the mood strikes, despite her persistence to bring you over to her way of thinking. You don’t have any problem with people who do start having sex as soon as they present, it has just never particularly appealed to you. Sure, your heats the past two years haven’t been walks in the park, but they weren’t awful. You’ve gotten by just fine on your own with the knotting toy that your father had very awkwardly taken you to buy after you presented. The idea of shacking up for your heats, being so bare and intimate with somebody who might not even remember your name by the time their next rut rolls around, just makes you feel sad; people should be worth more than that.

So, as you’d explained to Jo several times over the course of your teenage years, and as you had reiterated in the car on your drive to Lincoln earlier today, you don’t plan on losing your virginity until you’re in a real relationship with somebody. The part you’ve never elaborated on is that you are holding out for a very special kind of relationship. You want your first time to be with your true mate.

You know it’s cheesy, and you know Jo would laugh at you if she ever found out, but you don’t really care. You believe that your true mate is out there somewhere, just like your dad has always promised you he would be, and you want to wait for him. You don’t even particularly care if you’re his first, too, you know you can’t control that, so there’s no point getting your heart set on the idea. But you can control your own actions, and you are happy to wait, even if Jo continues to tease you about it every day until you’re finally mated.

One Week Later

You wipe the heat from your forehead carelessly with your serving apron before grabbing the food from the hotplate and loading up your tray. You push out of the swinging kitchen door with your hip and glance around the Roadhouse, looking for the table that order belongs to. You spot them on the other side of the pool tables, some of the regular truckers that pass through this route, so you plaster on your friendliest smile and begin to weave in their direction.

As you come around the back of the table and begin to pass the burgers to the correct recipients, movement over by the bar catches your attention. Jo is there, chatting amiably with a customer you don’t recognise. One of the patrons at your table notices the direction of your gaze.

“You know him?” the man asks gruffly, jerking his head towards the stranger, and you shake your head, pursing your lips as you consider your view of his back.

“Nope,” you shrug, “but stop looking so suspicious. You were all new here once too,” you remind them with a smile.

This group of regulars aren’t just truckers, they’re hunters, too. Not everybody that visits the Roadhouse is a hunter like Ellen and Jo are, but a majority were. And hunters are always on their guard, always ready to pick a fight. The hunter community has a tendency to attract a few too many damaged and trigger-happy members – not usually a good combination.

“We haven’t been new here since before you were born,” the woman at the table smiles widely, showing off one of her missing teeth, and you giggle.

“I know, I know,” you wave away her comment. “Just don’t go scaring away paying customers, or Ellen will run you out of here herself.”

You smile and excuse yourself, heading back towards the kitchen. Before you go back through the door though, you pause and look over your shoulder, back at Jo and the newcomer. He’s leaning across the bar familiarly, clearly turning on the charm, and you smirk to yourself. Whoever this guy is, he might actually have a shot with her – he’s was easily one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen at the Roadhouse, or anywhere else for that matter, and you can only see his profile. You shudder to think how much better he would look up close.

Thank god Jo’s working the bar today, you comfort yourself, heading back to check if Ash has the next ticket ready to serve.

Jo bursts through the kitchen door in a rush of girlish excitement and runs directly at you, nearly bowling you over as her shoes slip a little on the tiled floor and she catches herself by throwing her arms around your neck.

“What’s the big hurry?” you smirk knowingly, expecting her to start gushing about the attractive man at the bar and how he was all over her.

“Tonight’s the night,” Jo smiles, giddy and out of breath, looking much more your age than her own.

“What night?”

“The night you finally learn why I’m a sex addict,” she answers and you choke on your own snort of laughter.

“What do you mean ‘learn why’?” you scoff. “Believe me, you’ve given me enough details in the past, I don’t think I could learn any more about your sex life unless I watched you in action,” you laugh but then your face drops in seriousness. “That was a joke, just to be clear. I have no interest in watching you get it on with Mr. Handsome out there.”

“Me? Oh no, Y/N,” Jo shakes her head, her slim lips curling into a scheming smile that fills you with mild dread.

“Jo…” you caution, giving her a stern look. “I’ve told you-”

“Y/N, you have to at least go talk to him. He’s gorgeous, and funny, and an alpha-”

“And probably old enough to be my father–” you remind her with a critical quirk to your brow. “Your age, not mine.”

“It just means he will know exactly how to treat you right,” Jo smirks, undeterred by your protests. “Just think of all the things he could teach you…” she trails off suggestively, as if she was trying to seduce you herself instead of convincing you to sleep with some stranger.

“He probably isn’t even interested in me,” you shake your head in annoyance, trying to think of any reason you can to make Jo drop the subject, but you have a feeling she would continue to hound you until the man in question was out of the Roadhouse and back on the highway to wherever he was headed.

“He absolutely is,” Jo retorts, looking very self-satisfied. “You should have seen his face when I pointed you out to him, I could tell he wanted to mate you right on the pool table in front of the whole damn bar.”

“Jo!” you hiss, looking around in embarrassment, hoping Ash hadn’t overheard that. “You pointed me out to him? What did you say?!” You really can’t believe her right now.

“Just that you’re omega,” she shrugs innocently. “But he could tell that the second he scented you; thought he was gonna go feral for a second,” Jo snickers.

“Huh?” your face scrunches up in confusion. “You can’t go feral just by scenting someone, especially not from across the damn room like that.”

“Well, maybe he’s more pent up than you are, I don’t know,” Jo rolls her eyes. “Though I would find that hard to believe, considering you’ve literally never had sex. Your heats have gotta be getting tough to get through on your own by now,” she looks at you with sympathy and you feel frustration pound in your chest.

You don’t want her pity, you are perfectly happy living your life how you want to. Sure your heats aren’t exactly a walk in the park, but omegas live without partners all the time, you’re hardly the first one to shun the biological necessity to mate as soon as your body turns eighteen. And it really isn’t anybody’s business but your own, but for some reason, Jo’s prodding is setting you on edge much more than usual.

“Look, just bring him his order and talk to him,” Jo sighs, putting on a pleading face and pouting her lips. “Pleeease?”

“Jo, I’ve told you, I don’t want my first time to be a one-night stand, I want it to be someone I care about,” you protest yet again.

“Okay, fine, so don’t have a one-night stand with him, but you’re never gonna find someone you do care about unless you actually talk to an alpha other than me once in a while,” she points out, and you hate to admit it, but you don’t have a retort to that; she was right. You aren’t ever going to have a relationship with someone, let alone find your true mate, if you never even speak to alphas of the opposite sex.

“Right, will you stop bothering me if I bring this guy his burger,” you sigh in defeat, not in the mood to keep resisting when Jo clearly isn’t going to let you weasel out of this. Her smile brightens immediately.

“Yep,” she says simply, then turns on her heel and goes to collect the food from Ash, arranging it on a tray and forcing it into your hands. “Go get 'em, tiger,” she giggles, shoving you towards the kitchen door, and you roll your eyes at her one last time before you push through to go back into the bar.

Chapter 7 posting on July 26th or subscribe to my website to read up through Chapter 10 today!

Series Tags: @outofnowhere82

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva @katbratsupernaturalwhore @letsbys-library @fictional-affairs @leigh70

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @alaufeyson @raidens-realm @tatted-trina6 @defenderrosetyler @cluz1babe @maliburenee

#spnabobingo #dean x reader #alpha!dean #omega!reader #smut fic #angst fic #supernatural fic #supernatural smut #wincest #omegaverse #made for you #series #please read warnings

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

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Hero | Luke Patterson

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Song Fic February Week 4: Musicals

Inspiration: StarStruck (DCOM)

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Anon suggested doing something with the Starstruck soundtrack, so I’m writing a whole-ass series. This is based off the plot of Starstruck but the reader was a fan of JATP until she met Luke... Basically crush to enemies to lovers! Also a modern!au.

The third installment of the StarStruck series!

StarStruck

Something About The Sunshine

Hero

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Luke x Fem!reader

Song(s) used: Hero - Christopher Wilde (StarStruck ST)

Warnings: few swear words, mention of car accidents, mention of child abuse, mention of postnatal depression, tiny bit of angst

Words: 8.6K

I’m almost nervous to see him again. There’s a nervous flutter erupting from the pit of my stomach and I feel hot and sweaty when it’s not even that warm out. The boy didn’t have that effect on me just a day ago and now he suddenly does? I hate this.

“Morning,” I greet when I find Luke standing outside the coffee shop with his hood pulled far over his head and sunglasses covering his beautiful eyes. He shoots me a smile, but I don’t think he actually looks at me. Right, the whole “I can’t be seen with you”-thing.

“Want to go grab some coffee before we go?” I ask instead, pointing at the shop.

Luke nods his head and follows me inside where we wait in line together. The silence that hangs over us is uncomfortable for the first time. I don’t know why but his mysterious, secretive antics are making me nervous.

“Next!” the barista calls and the two of us step forward. The twenty-something woman shoots the both of us a polite smile, not even acknowledging that Luke’s keeping his head low. This is L.A., she’s probably used to it by now. “What can I get for ya?”

“An iced vanilla latte for me, please,” I say and then glance down at Luke.

He coughs. “Iced caramel macchiato.” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as though he’s telling the barista and me a secret. I’m glad we’re going to be out of the city soon, so Luke can go back to his regular self. Or to the singing-on-top-of-a-car-in-the-middle-of-nowhere self.

“What’s your name, please?”

“Y/N…” My eyes land on Luke for a split second, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even going to answer. Luke’s a pretty generic name, I’m sure people won’t even bother to look up. “Put my name on both, please.”

The barista smiles and then dashes off after I paid to start making our coffees while we shuffle towards the end of the counter, ready to take our drinks when they’re ready. Luke keeps his head down. He doesn’t even look up at me and the awkward silence doesn’t eb away.

“You’re not gonna talk to me yet, are you?” I ask him as I hand him one of the two straws I picked up. He shakes his head. I try my hardest not to groan and instead, hand him the keys to my car. “Here, get yourself settled in my car, I’ll handle this.”

His eyes peer over the rim of his sunglasses, flickering with uncertainty and gratefulness at the same time. I shoot him a smile, urging him to get out of here, which he does with a quick flash of his teeth.

The awkwardness quickly washes off me when he’s left the coffee shop and I’m all alone, hoping everything would change once we’re all alone, away from the prying eyes of Los Angeles’ residents.

“Iced vanilla latte and iced caramel macchiato for y/n,” the barista calls and places the cups on the counter in front of me.

I smile at her, say, “Thank you! Bye!” and then dart out of the coffee shop as fast as I could. I weave my way through hasty people and slacking tourists towards my Toyota Yaris where a hooded boy sits in my passenger seat. He still has his hood pulled up and his sunglasses balancing on the bridge of his nose. He almost looks sad, which makes me a little sad too. I wish I could do more than let him wait in my car.

“Here you go,” I say and hand him his coffee when I’ve settled into my seat.

“Thank you,” he mutters, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just for the beverage.

A smile etches its way to my cheeks as I regard him. “You’re welcome,” I say and then start the engine. As I pull out of the parking lot, Luke finally sparks up a conversation. I’m almost relieved to hear his voice again for more than two words.

“Where’re we going?” he asks.

I debate telling him but then decide I’d do it anyway. I’ve been researching a lot last night and have found the greatest secluded spots and the time slots when they’re mostly deserted or have the least visitors. The one I wanted to take him to today was a lot closer than the other ones, so I figured we could start with that.

“The Old L.A. Zoo. It’s less crowded before 9am, so I figured we could go explore it a bit until too many people arrive?” The statement comes out of my mouth as a question since I’m unsure whether or not he’d like that.

“Cool,” he replies, and he sounds honest, too. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.”

It surprises me a little, but I go with it anyway. “Really? I’ve been there plenty of times! It’s really cool! Kinda spooky.” Luke lets out an airy laugh at that and it makes my heart flutter a little.

Within ten minutes, we arrive at the old zoo. Ten minutes had gone by and yet it felt like a split second. The conversation ran fluently on our way there and Luke told me things about the band and his childhood that not even the biggest fangirl on earth could possibly know. I love talking to Luke about those seemingly uninteresting, small things.

The rest of the morning, too, goes by as if there’s no concept of time whatsoever. The two of us walk through the old, abandoned zoo and explore every single old habitat. I even find a website that tells us the entire history of each section of the zoo and as I read it, Luke listens and adds in his own commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in just a few hours. This guy is genuinely funny and I just adore talking to him. Our conversations go from the ridiculous to the serious, and every subject in between.

It’s just the perfect day that I wish would never end, but inevitably, Luke has his own responsibilities and has to go by lunch time.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me to the studio?” he asks with a smile as we’re making our way back to the car. “I’m in there all by myself, aside from our producer, and I’m recording a few songs.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, letting incomprehensible sounds roll out. It makes me look like a dumbfounded fish, I’m sure, but I don’t care. My brain is dysfunctioning for a moment. Luke Patterson is asking me to come to the studio with him. To watch him record some songs. Songs that are going to be on the album.

Luke’s laugh makes the gears in my brain fall back into place. “Is that a yes?” he asks.

A heat rises up to my cheeks. “Yeah,” I finally manage.

“Cool,” he says and then gets into the car.

The ride to the studio is filled with smooth conversation. We never miss a beat, there’s never an awkward silence between the two of us. Only when we arrive at the recording studio and we’re met with a huddle of paparazzi outside the door.

“Fuck,” he mutters and ducks down. I do the same, knowing he doesn’t want me to be seen with him either. “Drive around back,” he orders before fumbling into the glove compartment of my car. He retrieves a pair of sunglasses I kept there, along with a shawl of my mother’s that I didn’t know was still in there. “Put this on.”

“No,” I reply sternly, pushing his hand with the shawl away. I do take the sunglasses from his hand though, and push them onto my nose. “Put that shawl away,” I bark. The boy obeys and stuffs the piece of cursed fabric back where it came from.

Mental note: throw that out.

When we finally do get into the recording studio, as soon as I’m on Luke’s side, he grabs my hand and drags me into the building before anyone could ever spot us. I nearly stumble on my own feet, but quickly pick myself back up before I faceplant the floor.

Luke huffs. “Phew, that was close.”

He looks at me, and for a second, I think he might bring up the shawl again, but he doesn’t and instead turns to his producer, who had gotten up from his swivel chair the second we burst in.

“Connor!” Luke greets excitedly and shakes the man’s hand.

He looks near his thirties, strong built with flawless dark skin and a full head of afro hair. Combined with his extremely savvy outfit, I find him really cool-looking. He’s the kind of guy that would get all the girls in high school while still being a sweetheart.

“You brought some new flesh, I see,” Connor says to me and outstretches his hand for me to shake. I do so with a wide smile on my face while pretending not to be completely nervous about being in a recording studio for the first time.

“Y/N,” I introduce myself.

“Welcome to our little slice of heaven on earth, y/n.” My eyes flick to Luke, who’s giving me that look again, so I quickly turn back to Connor. “Any knowledge of recording studios, y/n?” he asks.

“Never been in one, but my friend is a producer and he did teach me some things.”

I hear Luke huff beside me. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know.” I shoot him a wink as Connor beckons me towards his deck. For a while, Connor guides me through his paces while Luke gives the best of himself on this song.

After a few takes, Luke comes out of the booth and joins me and Connor to listen to what we’d recorded thus far. “What if –” I pause, debating my thoughts. “What if we go in with some soft backing vocals on here?” I click the part of the chorus we’d recorded and sing along with recorded Luke.

“'Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if your the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“I think if you put Julie on those backings, it could give that duet-vibe you guys are so good at.” I notice Connor and Luke glance at each other, soft smiles playing on both their lips.

“Why don’t you show us?” Connor asks as Luke already grabs my hand.

“What?! Me? No! Julie.”

Luke chuckles and drags me into the booth with him. “Yeah, but we’re gonna need a demo, don’t we?” He delicately places a set of headphones on my head before placing one on his own. He signals to Connor and no later than 2 seconds, the instrumental version of the song blasts through the headphones.

Gazing at me, Luke starts singing the first verse of the song, and I let him. It almost feels like he’s serenading me. Almost. All that’s missing is a guitar or a boombox over his head.

“I'm no superman I can't take your hand And fly you anywhere you want to go Yeah I can't read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you want to hear But I'll be your hero”

From the chorus onwards, I jump in with backing vocals wherever I feel like it’s acceptable without taking my eyes off of Luke.

“I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Oh I'll be your hero” “Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Yeah I'll be your hero”

“So incredible Some kind of miracle That's what it's meant to be I'll become a hero So I wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

We keep our eyes locked at the high note too, smiles plastered on our faces from ear to ear. Singing with Luke gives me some kinda rush. A feeling I can’t quite describe but it’s a feeling I want to feel more often.

“Yeah, I'll be your hero Yeah”

“Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, Yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy with and soul But if you're the one for me I'll be your hero”

“Yeah, I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me”

“Yeah I'll be your hero”

The music fades out in our headphones, and soon, Connor’s applause sounds through it instead. I’m snapped back into reality, away from cloud 9, away from the pure bliss that’s singing with Luke and gazing into his eyes.

“That was amazing! Good job, guys!” Connor says, beaming.

Luke and I remove our headphones and he grabs my hand to lead me back to the decks where Connor welcomes us with open arms and a wide smile.

“I thought you and Julie were the most watchable duetters, but I’ve been proven wrong.”

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks before Luke snaps me out of it again.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Con. Can you send the finished product to the band and our manager? I’m sure they’d like to hear this. Don’t tell them who’s on backing vocals, though. They don’t need to know that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat and try to convince myself it’s probably not that deep. Luke doesn’t want to be seen with me. Not even by his band mates. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

We wrap up the recording session and I drive Luke back to the coffee shop where he looks behind him and out of every single one of the windows, just to be sure the coast is clear of paparazzi.

“Thanks for the day, y/n. I really enjoyed spending time with you again.”

I force a smile. Ever since his statement to Connor about not wanting the band to know about me, I’ve been going over everything in my mind and it has caused me to fold in on myself.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

He gazes at me for a moment, inspecting every inch of my face as if detecting the lie from my eyes. When I think he’s just going to bid his goodbyes and get out, he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his body to me and reaches for his phone. I watch as he unlocks it and taps away on it before turning the device towards me. There’s a new contact form open on his screen.

“Gimme your number. I’d love to do this again some day.”

I furrow my brow while taking the phone in my hands. “Do you even have time to spend days with a nobody like me?” I don’t dare look at him and keep my eyes on the screen as I type my name and number.

He doesn’t say anything either until I finally cave and look up when giving his phone back. There’s a crease in his forehead as his eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

“You’re not a nobody, y/n. I’d gladly make time for you. I told you, I loved spending days away from reality. Especially with you.” Fangirl Me is jumping out of my skin while Present Me tries to keep her cool and ignore all of the butterflies that erupt in her stomach.

“Cool,” Present Me says out loud while Fangirl Me is scolding her so hard.

Cool? Cool?! Seriously? Dude.

“I’ll text you, yeah?”

I nod my head in response and watch as he gets out of my car. Before I can even place my foot on the gas or shift out of park, my phone beeps in the pocket of my sweater. For the first time in forever, I smile when seeing an unknown number on my screen.

As I look out of my window, I find Luke looking at me with his hood pulled over his head again. He shoots me a quick smile and a wave before I turn to my phone again and type a reply.

I whip my head up to see his reaction. His jaw drops before his face turns into a scowl as he glares at me. Giggling and satisfied with the reaction, I place my phone on the passenger’s seat where Luke was sitting before and then pull out of the parking spot.

That night, I save Luke’s number to my phone. I go between “Luke P.”, “Patterson” and “Luke ❤️” but eventually decide on the funnier option and save him as “Poo Musician 💩”.

I stand in line at the coffee shop before 8:30 that morning and I’m a little nervous. Last night when I returned from my day with Luke, the two of us had been texting back and forth. I felt like a sixteen year old again. One of those giggly teenagers that’s texting their crush. Which is what I was, but it’s been a while since I felt like it.

Once I have an iced vanilla latte and an iced caramel macchiato, I head outside where I find a boy waiting by my car. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt paired with a bright blue sleeveless sweater, his hood pulled far over his head so his face is hidden from prying eyes.

I don’t need to see his face to know it’s Luke. I’d recognize those muscles from a mile away. The way he’s leaning against the hood of my car and the way he’s holding his phone is a dead giveaway too.

“Your coffee, sir,” I say in a serious, deep voice.

Luke’s head snaps up, eyes wide. He looks like a deer caught in headlights until he notices it’s just me and relaxes. A smile etches onto his face as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans whilst taking the coffee I ordered for him with his other hand.

He takes a cautious sip from the beverage. “Hm, Caramel Macchiato, someone’s been stalking me.” I know he’s just teasing, I can tell by the way one corner of his mouth curls up and his eyes have that childlike glint in them.

Making my way to the driver’s side of my car, I smile and say, “Contrary to popular belief, Patterson, I’m not a stalker. I just remembered your order from yesterday.”

Luke’s smile tells me something I’d rather not think about. It’s like he’s saying “You remembered my order” in that flirty way only he knows how to. I simply shrug before opening my door and getting in with Luke following my example. Without missing a beat, he fishes my phone from between my fingers and grabs my free hand to use my thumb to unlock my phone. This time, I don’t object and let him. I know that it’s just to get to my music app anyway.

While Journey’s Anyway You Want It plays through the car’s speakers, I pull out of the parking spot in front of the coffee shop and start driving to the next location I’d found during my research the other night.

“Where’re we going?” he asks, and I flashback to yesterday when he asked me the exact same question in that exact same way.

I smile as I place my cup in the cupholder between the two of us. “You’ll see.” I glance over, finding him tilting his head slightly and giving me that ‘Really?’ look. “I promise it’s very secluded and not a lot of people will be there.”

“Cool,” he says and sips. “Is this where you’re going to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? I bet you could get a lot of money for a Julie and The Phantoms band member.”

I snort at his remark. “How much do you think I could get for you?”

He scrunches up his nose in thought, which I catch as I take a quick glance at him again. As I face the road again, I reach for my coffee and take a quick sip, awaiting Luke’s response to my question.

“Like 10k?”

I nearly spit out my coffee. “10k?!” I screech, and his laugh thunders through my car. “Careful or I’ll actually kidnap you and hold you for ransom if I’m gonna earn that much.”

The laughter dies down and after a few moments of silence lingering in the air, Luke says, “How much do you think I’m worth?”

Without missing a beat, I respond to his question, dead serious. “Not even a dollar.”

Luke gasps, his mouth dropping in absolute disbelief while I can’t help but cackle loudly. Judging from this conversation alone, I’m positive today will be a good day. A good, fun day.

“I’m worth more than a dollar, right?”

“No, you’re right, I’d probably ask like a million and then no one will pay the ransom and you’ll have to stay with me for the rest of your life.”

I let out my best maniacal laughter as I feel him watch me. I know the exact look he’s giving me. The look. The one with the glistening eyes and the slightly turned up lips. The one all girls and gays swoon for. The one I would swoon for if I’d turn my head right now. But I don’t. For once in my life, I’m smart and keep my eyes on the road.

“You like me,” he states proudly.

“Slightly less strong dislike.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I’m hoping Luke won’t notice. Or at least not acknowledge it because I can already feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

“I’ll take it.”

He reaches forward and turns the volume up as Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” floats through the speakers. Very loudly, and very obnoxiously, the boy begins to sing along. If it wasn’t for the velvet smooth voice, I would’ve scolded at him to keep it down. But the sound actually makes my toes curl and my stomach flutter. For a verse, I let him sing by himself while I enjoy his performance but by the chorus, I can’t withhold myself and sing along with him.

The rest of the ride is filled with belting of the road trip tunes, laced with patches of small talk. It’s the perfect car ride, and before we know it, we’ve arrived at our destination. Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area. The parking lot is practically empty, aside from two cars, which I’m assuming are the staff’s. It’s the perfect indication that I picked the right spot to go to, and I can tell Luke knows it too.

He’s bouncing in his seat, either from excitement or the amount of sugar that was in his iced coffee, and when I turn off the ignition and turn to him, he looks at me with the widest smile plastered on his face. He almost looks like an excited toddler on Christmas morning, ready to open his presents.

“I came here once with my parents when I was younger,” he tells me, “I love this place.”

His confession makes me smile. “Good because I’ve been scouring the internet for the perfect place.” He shoots me the look again. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to kiss me.”

He shrugs, “Maybe I want to.”

“So you want me to slap you?”

His smile fades away immediately. “Let’s go,” he grumbles and quickly gets out.

I heave in a deep breath, recollecting myself before getting out too and retrieving the backpack I brought, filled with stuff for today. Including my itinerary – or just a notebook filled with some ideas I had.

“How about we start with a bike ride across the park?” I suggest, pointing at the bike rental shop I found on Google the other night.

We walk into the rental place, expecting there to be bikes upon bikes but instead, we’re met with kayaks, pedal boats and go-karts. My eyebrows furrow, creasing my forehead as I look around the space. Why’s this called a bike rental when there are technically no bikes to rent? No actual bikes.

“I thought we were going for a bike ride?” Luke says, teasingly. I look up at him, and I think my face tells him enough about my knowledge about this place. My research clearly wasn’t sufficient.

Deciding to just roll with the circumstances, I roll my shoulders back and put a smile on my face. “Yeah, we’re going on a bike ride with one of these!” I say and point to the large, green go-kart. One of those that look like an old-school car at the front and have children’s seats in front of the terribly cushioned seats for adults. The ones with the small plastic wheel and bike pedals for two adults. I remember going on one of those big ones for six people with my family.

“You’re serious?” Luke asks, his eyes wide.

Instead of answering, I shoot him a smile before stepping forwards towards the staff member at the counter. The woman behind the counter looks no older than 45 and has long, billowing blonde locks that cascade down her shoulders. Her bright blue piercing eyes glisten as they land on the two of us, clearly glad she sees some customers so early in the day.

“Good morning,” she greets with a smile, “We open in half an hour.”

“Oh…” My research has been poor.

Before I can possibly think of an answer, Luke steps forward and flashes the woman a smile. I’m not sure if he’s going to use his manly charms or if he’s going to pull the “Don’t you know who I am?” card.

“Can’t you… make an exception for us?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter as he looks at the woman through his lashes. The woman looks up at Luke, her face like stone. She doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t fall for his charms either.

Shaking my head, I spring into action. I quickly change the ring on my index finger to my ring finger and wrap my arm around Luke’s bicep while the other rests on his chest, making sure the ring is as visible as can be. As I flutter my eyelashes at the woman, I let the words tumble out of my mouth.

“Please, ma’am? It’s our one year engagement anniversary and he was going to take me on this romantic bike ride….” I then lean forward over the counter. “He’s not very good at researching our dates, but he tries.”

The woman’s eyebrows knit together as her eyes dart from me to Luke and back.

“Aren’t you guys a little young to be engaged?”

Luke jumps into the improvisation spot. “We’ve been told that a lot but we’ve been best friends for years and there’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” He looks down at me and when I glance up, too, he kisses the tip of my nose, which I then scrunch.

I ignore the flutters in my stomach and face the woman again. She seems to have softened, her eyes less icy than it was before. Then, she turns to her computer and clicks through a few browsers before facing us again.

“What do you guys want? The Surrey?” She points to the green bike-thing at the front of the shop. I nod my head in response. “Okay. You’ve got it for two hours for the price of one hour.”

A smile etches its way to my face. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Luke pays the woman the rental fee and then she helps us get Surrey out of the garage. After bidding our goodbyes, Luke and I pedal off on the bike.

“One year engagement, really?” Luke asks me when we’re far enough from the rental and I switch my rings back around.

“Well, whatever you were doing didn’t work.”

He scoffs. “It was working.”

We pedal down the winding road with the wind blowing through our hair. I love how warm the breeze is and how the birds are chirping in the trees around us. This is the perfect day to go out and do this.

“What exactly were you planning to do?” I ask him, glancing up at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead of us, a comfortable smile resting on his lips while his eyes flick from one side to another, taking everything in.

He glances down at me, the smile turning into a smirk. “I was going to charm her with my manly wiles.”

“And how was that working for ya?”

For a second, we lock eyes. Luke has an annoyed look on his face while I can’t help but have my lips curl up on one side into a smirk. When he whips his head forward again, I notice the slight tint of pink covering his cheeks.

Did I just make Luke Patterson blush?

“So,” he coughs. “Whatcha wanna do?”

I shrug. “We could play twenty questions? Get to know each other better.”

He nods his head in response. “You wanna start?”

“That’s your first question?”

“That’s yours?”

I press my lips together, shutting myself up for just a moment before recomposing myself. I’m not going to lie, I totally Googled some questions to ask in a game of 20 questions. So, I’m prepared.

“If you had to be trapped on a deserted island with one of your friends, who would you pick and why?” Luke’s eyes widen at the question a little.

“Woah, straight in! I thought you were gonna start with ‘favorite color’ or something.” He chuckles lightly, and so do I. “Uhm… Not Alex, he’d probably be super anxious and pace all the way across the island and make me nervous. Not Reggie either, he’d be singing country songs the entire time, though he is a great cuddler. Maybe Julie? Though she’s gonna be miserable without Flynn….”

With every thought he says out loud, my smile grows bigger and bigger.

“You?” My heart leaps in my chest at his answer. “Yeah, I like spending time with you and what better place to get away from real life than a deserted island, right?”

Without missing a beat, the next words pour out of my mouth. “It’s cute how you think we’re friends now.” I surprise myself with the words I speak. We are friends, but I like winding him up into thinking we’re not.

“Friends who wanna kiss each other.”

Ignoring the heat rising to my cheeks, I reply, “You mean kill?”

Luke shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “When are you going to admit that you like me?”

“Never – Next question.”

“Uhm… What was the last thing you stole or shoplifted?” he asks and I’m glad he doesn’t push any further on the fact I basically admitted that I like him.

“Oh! A magnet in a tourist shop in Lanzarote,” I reply, giggling a little at the memory. “I was there with a couple of friends during Spring Break and those magnets cost way too much for what they are and there was like a rack outside the shop. So, I shoplifted an overpriced Lanzarote magnet.”

Luke throws his head back as he laughs, nearly steering us into the bushes. “That’s amazing,” he cackles.

We cruise through the entire park for two entire hours, asking each other questions, and after returning the Surrey, we walk towards the lake where we settle down onto the blanket I brought for some food. I’d prepared an entire picnic basket for us to enjoy during our lunch.

“I find it very cute that you made an entire picnic basket for our first date.”

I smile. “I find it very cute that you think this is a date.”

He gives me the look again, but I ignore it and get every piece of food out of my backpack, sprawling it out around us. Sandwiches, chopped up vegetables and fruits, muffins,... All the delicious foods you’d find in a picnic.

“Tell me more about your childhood,” Luke then says as he takes a chicken sandwich and takes a bite. “You don’t talk about it much.”

My heart drops into my stomach. I wish he wouldn’t ask about that. Talking about my childhood means talking about my mother and I’ve been trying to avoid that for the past years. Not that many of my friends even know about that.

“I told you plenty.”

“You talked about your teenage years, but never about your childhood.”

I take a deep breath. He’s not going to shut up about this until I tell him. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that I don’t love talking about what happened with my mother. It’s something I’d much rather forget.

“There’s a reason for that,” I reply pointedly and then shut myself up by taking a sip from the box of orange juice. I’d packed one for the both of us, but I’m the only one who’s opened it already as Luke had gone straight in with the sandwiches.

Luke stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. His eyes pierce through my soul and give me a sense of comfort. They lift a weight of my shoulders and chest that I hadn’t even noticed were there. His eyes feel like coming home. Comfortable. A place to relax. A place to be me, be myself.

I heave in a deep breath and place my juice box on my nervously bouncing knee, holding it with my hand. It doesn’t stop the bouncing, so now my whole body is practically shaking along with the movement.

“I–” I stop myself, reconsidering my words. “My childhood wasn’t the sunshine and roses it’s supposed to be.” I chuckle nervously and when I meet Luke’s eyes again, they’re looking at me with such intent that I almost launch forward and kiss him. But I don’t.

“Mom was… difficult to live with…” I start cautiously, not even daring to look at Luke as I speak and keep my eyes on the still lake in front of us. “She uhm… After I was born, she kinda went into postnatal depression. She didn’t take care of me, she barely even looked at me… At one point, it went so far that she got into an accident, on purpose, with me in the back. She did it a few times, even, to the point where dad just had to report it. She was admitted to the psych ward and that was that... I was ten at the time.” I swallow to hold back the tears that are pricking behind my eyes.

Feeling a soft brush of the hand on my knee, I glance up, meeting Luke’s eyes. They give me that sense of comfort again, that sense of home, the reassurance that I’m okay.

“We haven’t really seen her since. She’s out of our lives…” I sniffle and place my hand over Luke’s, giving it a thankful squeeze. “I don’t like talking about it.”

Luke carefully laces his fingers through mine, his cold rings cooling my warm hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” I shrug dismissively. “But thank you for telling me.”

“So, tell me,” I lift our entwined hands for a second as though pulling us back into reality. “How did Sunset Curve-slash-Julie and The Phantoms came to be?”

Luke chuckles before engulfing our locked hands with his other and tumbling into the origin story of the bands he was in. He talks about meeting Reggie and Alex in primary school, and then meeting Bobby in middle school. He explains how they started the band in music class and then continued playing together until Bobby moved away from Los Angeles. The story then lapses into giggles and chuckles about all the things they tried to keep Sunset Curve alive, but terribly failed.

“But then we met Julie in high school and – the rest is history.”

We’re clearing up our mess before making our way back towards the car. I love hearing Luke talk, especially about the band. It makes his eyes light up and he gets all bouncy and enthusiastic. It’s the cutest side of Luke I ever did see in the past few days of hanging out with him.

I take one last look at the lake where tiny dots of humans are floating along on the lake in their tiny boats. There are just a few, so nothing to worry about, but it does make me want to go kayaking too. Mostly because I don’t want the day to end.

“Wanna go kayaking?” I ask Luke, pulling him to a halt by tugging at our still intertwined hands. His eyes dart from mine to the lake and back. I can tell he’s debating it, but then he nods and a smile appears on his face.

With our hands intertwined, we go back to the rental place and ask the woman for a double kayak. We pay, put on the safety vests she’s given us and then proceed onto the water. As we pedal along, Luke tells me about all the adventures he’s been on with his friends and how he used to do this all the time before his schedule got so crazy.

Every now and again, he stops and pretends to tip the kayak, making me squeal each and every time whilst he laughs his most maniacal laugh.

The wall I’d built around my heart was slowly crumbling. Every laugh, every touch, every glance took away a small part of the brick wall. I’m falling in love with the boy I’d had a crush on and then strongly disliked for a good five-ish days.

Getting distracted was not a good idea as I’m not prepared for what follows next. Luke pretends to tip it over again, but this time, he wobbles too hard and actually makes the boat topple overhead. I squeal, but quickly shut my mouth as I tumble into the water, making sure not too much of the lake’s contents gets into my body.

“Patterson!” I scowl as I crash the surface again and find Luke laughing a few feet away. His brown, shaggy hair sticks to his head, dripping small drops of water onto his face. If I wasn’t so angry at him, I would definitely kiss him right here, right now.

“I hate you!” I splash some water at him as the words roll off my lips. Luke’s laughter abruptly stops and he stares at me. His once glistening eyes dull down while his mouth falters into a frown.

“You do?”

My face softens as I watch him. He looks so beautiful with his hair all dishevelled and the reflection of the sun on the water mirroring onto his face. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad.

I swim closer towards him and stroke his wet hair out of his face. My breath hitches in my throat at how close we are but I try to play it off by keeping my hands on his face and my eyes locked with his. I notice his eyes flicking down to my lips a few times, telling me he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him.

Should I? Full throttle? Or step on the brakes?

I don’t even get the time to think about it as Luke presses his lips to mine. Now I don’t hesitate a single moment and immediately kiss him back. Sliding my hands into his wet locks and pressing my body as close as I can, I melt entirely into him. The same sense of bliss I have when singing with Luke washes over me and I find myself on cloud 9 again.

We pull back after a moment to catch our breath. The glint in his eyes is back and his mouth, though a little swollen and red, curls up into a smile. He presses one more kiss to my nose before helping me towards the shore. We climb out of the water and bring the boat back to the rental place, along with our safety vests.

Grabbing my backpack I had left with the woman for safekeeping, Luke and I bid our goodbyes and leave the rental, intertwining our hands again. The feeling his hand in mine gives me will never get old.

As we get to the car again, I yawn, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. Luke smiles upon noticing this and takes the keys from my hand. Wordlessly, he presses a kiss to my forehead and then leads me to the passenger side. He opens the door and lets me get in before shutting the door and jogging to the other side.

The car is filled with a comfortable silence, just the crackling of a song playing on the radio filling out the quietness. I rest my head against the headrest and glance at Luke every now and again as he drives Sabrina. He has that one-hand feel on the steering wheel and the other rest comfortably in mine on the gearshift.

“I had a lot of fun today,” I mumble, unable to speak any louder.

A smile etches its way to Luke’s face. “Me too.” He takes a quick glance at me and then lifts our hands to plant a kiss on my knuckles. “Our band’s house is closer, you want to stop there and get us dry before you go home?”

I hum softly, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment. Luke’s thumb grazing the back of my hand almost lulls me to sleep until he curses before the car comes to a halt. He pulls his hand away from mine and when I look up, the driveway and street in front of the enormous white-brick house is filled with dozens of cars.

“Fuck, I forgot about the album wrap party,” he grumbles and then looks over at me. I’m shivering from the cold and exhaustion. “I can’t let you drive home like that.”

I’m unsure if he’s talking to me or pondering out loud, but I shake my head instead. “It’s fine,” I say. “My house isn’t that far away… I think…”

“No, y/n. I’m not letting you drive home exhausted and cold.” His voice is stern, yet laced with a bit of worry. “You’re gonna come in and I’m– I’m gonna bring you up to my room. You can dry off there and maybe take a nap or something. Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” He sounds way too excited about something so banal.

He hops out of the car and quickly jogs over to my side whilst I’m already opening the door. Before I could react, he tugs me towards the house. I can barely get my bearings or take the time to look where I’m going before I’m pulled into a room.

“There are shirts and joggers in the dresser over there, pick out whichever you like and then take a nap or something. I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my cheek and then dashes towards the door.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?”

He lets go of the door handle and slowly turns towards me. His eyes are laced with regret as he takes in the sight in front of him. I must look ridiculous with my hair and clothes wet and bags under my eyes.

“Please, y/n? I can’t have people know about us, okay? I just – can’t…”

Turning on his heel, he opens the door and leaves me in his bedroom all alone. I take a minute to let the information process in my brain before turning around and taking in the room I’m in.

The walls are painted white, except for the one wall behind his bed that’s a muted dark blue. His bed is king size and on either side is a nightstand. I inch closer to the one that’s actually filled with stuff, which I’m assuming is the one he uses most. Nightstand contents often tell a lot about a person. His contains the band’s autobiography, “Bruce Springsteen: All The Songs” and “Beach Read” by Emily Henry, the book I started the other week and shared on Instagram Stories.

Would he have seen that and decided to read it too?

Shaking the ridiculous thought out of my head, I move over to his dresser and take out a pair of joggers and his Rush muscle tank I’ve seen him in many a time during gigs. I peel my drenched clothes off my body and get into Luke’s freshly washed ones. They smell of his laundry products. It’s a fresh and calming scent.

For a while, I look around his room. The books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls, most of which of the band and some of him and Carrie Wilson. There had been a rumor about him dating the Instagram Influencer, but I’d never believed it until I saw her face pop up in some of the framed photos in his room.

I decide to go and venture about the house since all the commotion seems to be outside in the garden. I weave through hallway upon hallway, finding more photos and more things that belong to the band. The living room walls are adorned with platinum records and other awards they’d won over the two years they’d been active in the music industry. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride rush over me. That’s my favorite band right there. That’s the boy I’ve fallen in love with.

“Excuse me – Who are you?”

The voice makes me jump out of my skin. I thought everyone was outside. When I look up, I find the perfectly flawless face of Carrie Wilson. Her long, blonde hair cascades into curls down her shoulders and back while her round, brown eyes stare at me with intent and curiosity.

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n. I–” I stop myself, remembering Luke didn’t want anyone to know about us. That includes his girlfriend – or ex-girlfriend.

Carrie’s mouth curls up into an amused, curious smile, catching onto what’s happening. “You’re Luke’s new adventure, aren’t you?” I huff out the breath I was holding. It’s a telling huff, I’m sure. “You are…” She trails off and inspects me for a second before continuing. “Just so you know, it’s not going to work. Luke’s too infatuated with this lifestyle of his. He loves his job, he loves his stardom. He loves it too much to ever focus on a partner. Believe me, we tried.”

I exhale at the use of her past tense, but then all the other information downs on me. Luke’s life is so much different from mine. While I work several jobs to pay for college and still live with my dad, he lives by himself and tours the world. He’s too busy to start anything serious with me. Whatever happened in the last few days was just temporary.

“You seem sweet, y/n, so I’m going to be frank. Get out before it’s too late. You’re only gonna get hurt if you’re gonna stay.” As she passes me, she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

If my brain wasn’t going a mile a second about everything she’s telling me, I would be caught off guard by how sweet Carrie Wilson is. She’s always portrayed as this complete ego-centric bitch who used people to her advantage.

The exhaustion taking over, I shuffle back upstairs and sit down on Luke’s bed but when I hear the commotion outside die down and guitar strums float through the air into the house, I grow curious. I get up from the bed and make a beeline towards the ceiling-to-floor glass doors that give out onto a balcony. I carefully open the door and step out, the summer breeze tickling my skin while Luke’s voice reaches my ears.

The balcony looks out onto the garden, it’s just out of sight from where everyone’s huddled up around the band. I lean my elbows on the bannister and watch on as Luke’s voice floated through the air.

“I'm no superman I can take your hand And fly you anywhere you wanna go, yeah I can read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you wanna hear, but I'll be your hero”

I smile at the memory of us in the studio yesterday. The last few days have been perfect. Just… Perfect. And now this girl has to come and ruin it by pulling me back into reality.

“Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be a hero Oh, I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero”

It’s not that Carrie isn’t right. She is. Luke is way too busy with the band and his fame and everything around it. He doesn’t have time or room between those things for me. Not for an ordinary girl. Not for anyone.

“So incredible Some kinda miracle That when it's meant to be, I'll become a hero, oh So I'll wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

Luke’s eyes meet mine as he hits that high note and his mouth curls up into that beautiful smile I’ve come to love. Once again, I’ve fallen in love with someone who would never reciprocate those feelings. If I don’t get out now, I’m going to get hurt.

“Yeah I'll be a hero Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me I'll be a hero Yeah, yeah I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero Hero”

As the last notes of his song ring out into the night, I grab my still wet clothes and my keys Luke left on the dresser, and then leave the house. My heart breaks with every step I take, but I know it’s what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for both of us. There’s no room for me in his life. Like he said, he’s no superman, he can’t handle this many things at once. Not even a hero would be able to.

Everything taglist:

@wanniiieeee @phantompogues

JATP taglist:

@hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @charliesmountains @thedarkqueenofavalon @calamitykaty @caitsymichelle13 @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @stellasmusa @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @crybabyddl @headheartbellarke @authentic-gillespie @happinessinthedarkesttimes @bright-molina @rangerelik @cordeliascrown @willex-owns-my-heart @fangirlangioma @frickin-bats @flower-name @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jandthephantoms @kelpwithawhy @the-hufflepuff-hunter @lookingthroughmirrors @buckybarnesishot310 @echocharm17618 @littlemissaddict @mystic-writings @joynerxmercer @brooke0297 @magicalxdaydream @musicianspiritsblog @bexxy @ruvaitkevicius @whitetigerlover17 @stressyanddepressysimp @talk-on-the-street @theolivekiddo @sunsetcurvej @teti-menchon0604 @candycornmgg @gray_jato

Charlie/Luke taglist:

@lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans @rachmmb @whitemanshoe19 @killerqueenfan

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatpsongficfeb #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke jatp #luke patterson x fem!reader #modern!au #StarStruck

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 3 years

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1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2021! Below you’ll find One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup.

Happy reading!

Game Changer by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 6k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?”

“He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?”

Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

(I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

[Harry/Niall, 12k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. Far from his family and friends in Ireland, Niall is stuck living in a complex for Alpha/Omega bondmates, terrified every day of being found out by his landlord.As if that isn't enough, he's suffering from touch deprivation. Luckily, Niall's doctor can at least help him with that part: she prescribes Niall some cuddle sessions. It's only a little weird that the person she's prescribing him is her brother. Or maybe that's actually a little bit perfect.

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

[Liam/Zayn, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Liam had followed InZaynity, an artist's Instagram, for ages. Not only was the artist incredibly talented, his voice poured over Liam like warm honey on a winter's night, and his hands were the stuff Liam's wank dreams were made of. However, having Zayn unexpectedly arrive as the newest artist at his best friend's tattoo shop brought Liam's fantasies and reality a little too close for comfort.

Zayn Malik met his boss' friend on his first day at Fine Line Tattoos, and felt an instant attraction. Unfortunately, given Liam's unwillingness to even hold a conversation with him, Zayn was certain the feelings weren't reciprocal. Or were they?

When Liam's new tattoo design falls outside the scope of Tommo's talent, and he recommends Zayn do it, Liam reluctantly agrees. Surely he could manage to spend hours in Zayn's company without revealing his biggest secret, right? Right?

Blow Me Away by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Liam, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires

[Louis/Harry, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls. Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) by @lululawrence

[Harry/Louis, 7k, Not rated, tumblr post]

“Stand up.”

Harry stood up from the couch, not a moment’s delay.

“Oh my god, is that what that’s like?” Harry turned to Louis, surprise on his face. “I really thought they were somehow exaggerating, but it really is an automatic response with absolutely no thought from me behind it whatsoever.”

Louis sighed again. “You really wanna keep doing this? Have me use my alpha voice on you so you can work on resisting it?”

“Yup,” Harry said, clapping his hands and smiling. “How else am I going to be able to have any chance at reducing the power an alpha voice has on me?”

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by @lululawrence

[Liam/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Not rated, tumblr post]

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it.

Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

Oh, Those Summer Nights by cherrylarry / @beelou

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

“Are you okay?” He kneels down to inspect where Harry still has his hand pressed against his head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.”

“My name’s Louis. Can I buy you dinner or something to make up for hitting you in the head?”

Harry crinkles his eyebrows. “Me?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, you. If you’d like?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Harry smiles so that his dimples show. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry, it's a date, then." Louis grins.

An extended scene of the beginning of the movie Grease as a larry au

people fall in love in mysterious ways (maybe just the touch of a hand) by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers, @justalarryblog / Bekita, @bluecolouredlou , @beelou / cherrylarry, @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain, @hershelsue / docklands, @foreverfanficaddict,@idolizingthelight / idolizingthelightt, @inlockets / loveroflou, @perfectdagger, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 13k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Set in a world where meeting your soulmate causes a literal spark, Louis Tomlinson has no time for fate. He knows all too well the heartbreak that having a soulmate can bring and he'd rather avoid the whole affair. But, when a chance meeting with up-and-coming popstar, Harry Styles, causes the biggest electrical surge the world has ever seen, Louis must confront the truth that sometimes destiny knocks when you least expect it.

Somehow, Someway by @zanniscaramouche

[Louis/Harry, 16k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis Tomlinson has everything all figured out for a smooth post-graduation sailing into the perfect career in the music industry. A canceled class, a high school play, and a disarming set of dimples were not part of the plan. (Especially when they belong to a boy wearing someone else’s jacket.)

Featuring: A punk with the worst timed crush in history, that moody art kid that never shares cigarettes, the cutest pastel-pink wearing boy on the planet, and his unfortunately nice bottle-blond jock of a boyfriend.

Forts & Fortunes by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

It’s finals week at uni and Harry is struggling to find a healthy balance between studying and tending to his needs. Lucky for him, Louis is there to help him out with that.

One way to reduce tension by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry knows of a few ways to help Louis get rid of some pent up stress…

We Got a Call by @greenblueish / bluegreenish

[Louis/Harry, 24k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Fisher from St Peter hospital, hello. Is this Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in concern. Why is the hospital calling him? Has someone he knows been in an accident? “Uh, yes?”

“Great. Your results are in. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” he chokes, the word almost getting caught in his throat.

“Yes, without doubt,” the woman from the hospital confirms, her voice neutral but somehow chirpy. “I recommend promptly booking an appointment with your ob/gyn to discuss how to proceed.”

"I...Yeah, I’ll talk to my … partner.”

or, the one where Louis and Harry Tomlinson are married and Louis accepts a phone call that was definitely meant for his husband.

How Long Will We Fall (Before We Can Climb) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 860 words, General, tumblr post]

Louis' faith in Harry is unbreakable. When they get caught kissing and he is thrown out of his home forever, he has to learn to have faith in himself.

Rope, Leather and Lipstick by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 552 words, Mature, tumblr post]

Something about ropes around wrists, and tinting skin the colour of strawberry ice cream, tender and kissed by dark lips. Smudging sticky red lipstick across the slight blue shadow of veins, and assuring hands tightening knots.

Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 34k, Mature, tumblr post]

Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.

Sugar at Night by @brightgolden

[Harry/Louis, 33k, Explicit, tumblr post]

With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Liam, 9k, Mature, tumblr post]

It’s not desire that has his synapses firing. It’s not the urge to jump him that makes him feel jittery.

It’s the fact that everything about this man - a nice, unassuming guy on Tinder, who studied IT and who seemed like a safe choice - screams danger. It’s the fact that Zayn has been absently touching his necklace for what feels like half the night now.

The necklace. Thank God for Lou, honestly. He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend, but right now? Right now Zayn will gladly take the gentle ribbing from Louis if it means he won’t have to spend another moment with this guy.

I don't care if the world knows by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry is fourteen when she buys her first binder. She’s been doing cosplay videos on Tiktok for a while at that point, and it seems like the logical choice. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosplaying characters of the opposite gender and not wanting to fully look like them, she’s seen plenty of wonderful creators put their own spin on characters in a way that transcends the source material, but when it comes to her own cosplays -

She just likes it to be accurate.

She likes her chest to be flat, not soft and curvy, when she’s wearing her Crowley cosplay, or when she’s transformed herself into Loki.

It’s all about the aesthetics.

∞

Over the course of a few years, Harry explores and comes to terms with gender identity.

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry's never really concerned herself with being part of the popular crowd. But as the new girl in school the second semester of her junior year, she finds herself unwittingly competing for Queen Bee status against high school royalty Louis Tomlinson. Maybe there's more to their rivalry than it seems.

A not-quite-Mean Girls AU

Going Green (so fucking green) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry just really loves being used, and Louis really loves Harry. Who is he to deny him?

Or: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but make it BDSM

the next bit was spanners to my plan by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Nick Grimshaw, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

The first time was an accident. The second time was an accident too.

Or: Louis and Nick end up shagging on the sly, everyone sends far too many emojis and far too few words, and eventually they're going to have to sort themselves out.

Trust Me Tonight by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.

Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.

There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

Can we make it any more obvious? by LouStylesHTommo / @smolhilariousbeans

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

Aka Niall, Zayn, Liam being supportive of Lou&H sexy shenanigans.

darling just dive right in by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Louis, 5k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis can’t think of a worse place to be than at the Malik estate, attending his ex boyfriend's wedding.

Shining just for you by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @hlhome28

[Harry/Louis, 1k, General, tumblr post]

For a clumsy person, Harry danced with quite the grace- spinning around Louis, billowy light robes brushing against his firm darker ones. Despite his slightly smaller build, Louis was decivingly strong, his grip on Harry's waist tight as they performed their steps in sync. Like two opposite halves of a whole, like ones reflection in the mirror, like the sun and the moon.

Part 2 of the Prompt Generator series

crown me with your heart (your love is king) by @perfectdagger

[Louis/Harry, 41k, General, tumblr post]

The universe must’ve had a field day when it decided to plan Harry’s life. There was no plausible explanation for anything that happened in his life anymore. Try as he may, he would never be able to control his life nor predict what would happen next. What were the odds that the one person he was sure he had fallen in love with but had completely let him slip out of his life, already resigned to the fact nothing could ever evolve between them due to Harry’s future with Eroda, happened to be the same person who had Harry’s future in his hand?

A The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Wedding au in which Harry is the Crown Prince of the small island of Eroda and Louis’ uncle is trying to take the throne from him, with a slight a/b/o twist and some more.

#trackinghappily #1dsource #tracksintheam #trackinghome #28th appreciation #july 2021 #one direction fan fic

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

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Business AU - Working Late, Part 4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Flirt mode A C T I V A T E D 👏

As everyone else in the room was getting ready to depart for the day - chatting here and there and gathering their belongings - Vee was mostly occupied by her handbag, making sure everything was there before she would leave the place. She did not hear when someone approached her, but she next felt the poke of an object to her right shoulder.

“I didn’t want to make you feel bad earlier,” started Donatello’s voice. “But I truly do think we’re connected somehow now.”

She looked at him, first noticing that he had been poking her with a cardboard file folder, and then she took a good look at his clothes. Purple. AT LEAST not the same shade. He was wearing a fitting v-neck sweater of a dark purple color, with a white shirt and a black tie underneath, his looks completed with dark charcoal pants and black shoes.

“... You’ve got to be kidding me,” started Vee with a stifled laugh. “Why are we like this?”

“I’m not superstitious, but maybe it’s destiny. We were meant to work together,” he winked. “Great minds think alike!”

Vee couldn’t hide her smile, next prompting him to get on the move for their dinner. She first expected them to walk out of the building and head to a subway station, but she was surprised to see the turtle head towards the indoor parking lot of the building.

“Wait, you want us to go by car?” she asked, her heels clacking rapidly on the tiled floor as she caught up to him.

“Why not? It’ll be quieter that way! I don’t feel like dealing with crowds in the subway anyway.”

She had to give him that, at least. A car would smell better than a subway train... As they made their way through the lot, she noticed Donnie getting out keys, the woman commenting:

“Huh, I thought you’d have a chauffeur or something like that.”

“Why, because I’m rich?” asked the mutant, amused. “I like driving, so I don’t see why I would leave all that fun to someone else.”

He pressed a button on a small remote attached to a key, which prompted a black SUV nearby to flash its light.

Vee was most certainly impressed by his taste, first observing the vehicle until she noticed the other opening the passenger door for her.

“The lady may take her seat.”

As she took place, her eyes scanned the interior.

The major difference she could notice from any other cars was how the driver seat was rearranged a bit further back, allowing space for the mutant’s shell most probably. As Donnie took place next, Vee couldn’t help her question:

“Is this car completely custom made?”

The other smirked: “If it was, it’d be way cooler. ... Nah for this I only had a Genesis GV80 model slightly modified to accomodate my form. I like the look of it and I don’t need something too extravagant to go around on the streets.”

“ ‘Don’t need something too extravagant’,” quoted the woman. “You do realize that you have an expensive car?”

“Remind me to show you my brother Mikey’s cars,” added Donnie, then starting the car’s ignition. “Then we can talk back about what’s expensive.”

As soon as the vehicle was brought to life, music was heard, being none other than Dio’s “Better In The Dark” track. The turtle rapidly fumbled to turn it down, his eyes widening.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for that,” he said once silence was back.

“... Are you kidding? You shouldn’t apologize for listening to Dio!” reassured Vee. “That guy frickin’ rocks!”

The terrapin smirked: “Ah, a woman of good taste! You keep on getting better and better.”

Vee couldn’t help her smile in return, the pair then finally getting on the move.

***

Donnie had to park his SUV on a quiet street, the duo next walking towards their destination; New York’s Little Italy. The evening was already laying its shadows in the sky, but the streets were bright and colorful, the warmth in the air of the incoming summer days an absolute delight. A light conversation was held as they were walking, until Vee was abruptly stopped by almost falling due to one of her heels stumbling into a small crack in the sidewalk. She was first surprised by how fast Donnie had been to catching her, a small laugh escaping her. To feel his touch around her, his strength, all she could hear was her heart drumming in her ears. They continued their path, Vee’s arm hooked to Donatello’s. It simply felt like a dream at that point...

They finally arrived to the place; a small rustic looking restaurant that had been hiding from the bigger crowd’s broad sight. There were few patrons inside, the ambiance calm and somehow giving a “feels like home” kind of vibe. Donnie seemed to know the place well, only quickly waving to the staff and already going for a table. It was a nice little corner with a table large enough so they could lay down their paperwork. Being a complete gentleman, the mutant was quick to draw a chair for Vee to sit on, waiting until she was seated properly before settling down across the table. A waiter was already at their disposition, Donnie already asking for a bottle of white wine, interjecting some Italian words in the bunch and ending with a “grazie mille”, to Vee’s surprise.

“You speak Italian?” she asked as the waiter was walking away.

“Non molti, ma un po' sì (Not a lot, but a little bit yes),” he answered. “Still learning, but I’m getting there.”

“Do you know any other languages?”

“I’ve tried to start learning Japanese alongside my brother Leonardo, but I’m not as proficient as him so far. I’ve also started French.”

Vee couldn’t help herself: “Donc, si je parle dans ma langue maternelle, tu devrais comprendre? (So, if I speak in my native tongue, you should understand?)”

Donnie froze for a moment, soon ruminating the words and showing a smile.

“Un peu (a bit),” he said. “But I feel like I need to practice a little more.” He did not skip a beat when adding: “I don’t know why, but I think a French Canadian’s accent sounds way more interesting than metropolitan French. There’s a certain flair to it, I can’t really explain...”

Vee was most certainly amused: “Try going into any rural parts of Québec, then you’ll feel like you’re speaking to aliens or something. Our French is unique, sometimes butchered, but it is nice indeed.” She did a small shrug. “I could help you practice, if you want.”

Their wine arrived, their glasses filled and the bottle left at their table. Donnie took his glass, pensively rolling the drink in his hand.

“You keep on giving, miss Vee, and I’ll soon feel cheap. First you’re helping me for the Lowline, now you’re proposing to help me with my French. ... My oh my, mademoiselle, I’ll have a debt to repay once again.”

“Let’s start by actually getting something for dinner,” added the woman, lifting the menu to her face in order to hide her blush. “It’ll give me time to think about if I need your help with something. What’s good in here?”

It was so hard to act casual...

“Their pastas are the best, but I’ll have to say that their tiramisu is to die for - I’m definitely grabbing one of those at the end.”

As the evening went along, Vee was finally starting to feel more at ease. The food was delicious, the wine delectable, and the company absolutely charming. They took some time to review the folder Donnie had brought along, talking about the project’s restrictions and demands. It was simple enough thus far, some ideas already boiling in the woman’s mind. Maybe the wine was kicking in, but she didn’t even flinch when her hand brushed the turtle’s over some papers. Her body language was screaming interest, lightly hunched over the table, actively listening to him and her smile tender. She couldn’t quite explain this attraction she felt. All she knew was that Donnie had this aura surrounding him; a welcoming and calm presence that made her feel safe and relaxed. His humor was subtle and his additions to a conversation well-placed. He was a man of many words and of a vast knowledge, although gladly giving the spotlight to any soul speaking, always listening with great interest. Vee could only admit that she wanted to learn more about him.

***

The dinner over, the pair headed back to the SUV, Donnie at least insisting that he could drop Vee to her place. How could she say no to a sweet smile such as his, anyway? The address handed, the ride went on smoothly in a comfortable silence, the woman glancing at the many lights outside - not even noticing that the terrapin would sometimes glance her way and feel this lovesick knot in his chest...

As he parked nearby her apartment building, he did not hesitate to get out as well, at least considering it good etiquette to escort her to the entrance.

“I hope I didn’t make it harder for you by cramming all that information in your face?” he said as they were talking, arms hooked again.

Vee shook her head, amused: “Absolutely not. It has given me ideas, in fact.”

“Good, good.”

As they stopped by the main door, they paused, their hooked arms transitioning into a longing, yet subtle touch of their hands. Vee finally moved her hand away, her blush faint as she removed a small strand of hair from her face.

“... This was nice, thank you,” she said. “Not the habitual work meetup I’m used to, but this was good for a change.”

Donnie quickly cleared his throat, retrieving his thoughts.

“Of course! It was quite pleasant, indeed. ... It’s not often that I get such enjoyable company.”

“You’re sweet, thank you.”

There it was, that silence as they both crossed gaze. That moment of unspeakable words and uncertain actions... The mutant sweetly smiled, breaking that moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. ... Goodnight, Vee.”

“Goodnight, Donnie.” She felt like she could breathe again...

Yet, as she saw the other walk away, she added:

“Donnie!”

He turned back.

“I think I know how you can repay me for the French lessons,” she continued. “... How about another evening together? Not work related this time.”

Joy lightened up the turtle’s features, definitely agreeing: “Absolutely!”

And just like that, the night felt even better.

((Part 5))

#it's-a-moi #business au #man oh man oh man oh maannnn I already have some scenes planned #I'M SO PUMPED BY THIS #it's short and straight to the point - mama likes that #and of course the usual apology is there are some errors here and there #my brain is poo tonight #**if there are #SEE I MAKE ERRORS EVEN IN MY TAGS

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santastic · 4 years

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the big, bad wolf || hwang hyunjin oneshot

》》 pairing: hyunjin x female reader

》》 summary: every year, you and the boys celebrate halloween with a party at hyunjin's - who just so happens to be your mortal frenemy. every year, you all dress up. this year, however, you decide to make it a bit more interesting: everyone picks an outfit for their random secret santa partner. it seems like a bit of innocent fun, but felix has an idea...

》》 word count: 2.4k

》》 genre/tags: halloween au, not quite e2l but e2 like...sexy tension???, suggestive themes (mostly just implications), a little bit of crack lmao

》》 warnings: cliche cheesy dirty flirting (come on hyunjin you're better than this), thicc romantic and sexual tension, reader is a simp in denial, suggestive themes, implied smut at the end, talk of biting but no actual biting, reader has dom vibes, hyunjin is bold until someone else is bolder

》》 notes: my first oneshot on this blog! I already wrote a halloween drabble, but I felt like writing something bigger than that and my friend (I see u vi) inspired me by suggesting some spicy hyunjin content. n e ways, happy halloween everyone! and if u don’t celebrate halloween, I hope u have a lovely weekend <3

navigation || skz masterlist

Halloween is always fun with your friend group. I mean, it's fun anyway - lots of cheap candy, neighbourhood celebrations, an excuse to get way too drunk - it's just a lot more fun with eight other crackheads.

You guys have a sort of tradition going by now, even though each year is a bit different. Hyunjin throws the party, Minho brings the alcohol and hides it from Chan until it's too late to stop everyone from getting shitfaced, Jeongin and Felix bring ungodly amounts of candy, and Jisung is a skeleton (literally every single year - it started when you called Tate Langdon's skeleton makeup hot, and it never ended).

Everyone (except Jisung) keeps their costume a secret - unless they're Chan and Felix, in which case they do couple costumes and keep it a secret from everyone else. Sometimes you even decide on a theme, like the year before the last, where everyone was supposed to dress as their favourite Pokemon. This inevitably led to intense fighting roleplays to assert dominance as your respective type, and in order to spare your reputation in the neighbourhood, you decided the next theme would be a little less wild.

This year, the theme was 'secret Santa costumes', meaning you each picked a random name from a hat to decide who you would be buying a costume for and a few days before Halloween, you were given your own costume to wear to the party by whoever pulled your name from the hat of destiny.

Technically that's not how secret Santa works, but no one questions Chan when it comes to holiday business.

You just so happened to get Jisung, and while the temptation to keep the skeleton thing going just for the meme was definitely there, you ultimately decided he should be a classic bedsheet ghost - except with no eye or hand holes cut out. You know, to add a little sprinkle of chaos to his already very chaotic life.

The lovely boy who decided your spooky fate was Felix, who had coincidentally been in charge of buying Hyunjin’s costume too - when you asked why, he said it was because the number of people was uneven, so he had kindly volunteered to take on an extra. You had honestly expected him to pick something weird or wild for you, so you were quite surprised by the outfit he had settled on.

"Is this...little red riding hood?" you had asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the dress and hood in your hands.

"Yep! I saw it the other day and I thought it would be nice to go for one of the classics, you know?" he had explained, smiling as if he was ever so proud about his decision. Something about the hint of mischief in his eyes made you suspicious, but you had let it slide. "You don't mind, right?"

No, you didn't mind. You had given Jisung a ghost costume, so you didn’t really have room to speak on the originality of Felix’s decision. Besides, the dress didn’t look too cheap, nor did it look especially short, and the hood-cape made you feel way too powerful for someone wearing a $20 Target costume.

So you really didn't mind at all, until it came to the day of the party. Now, as you stand in the doorway to Hyunjin’s apartment, you suddenly mind a lot more.

”Lee Felix, I’m going to decorate the lawn with your fucking intestines, oh my god!” you whisper-yell to the boy who conveniently manages to dart away with the excuse of needing to help Jeongin open all the candy bags. Your angry eyes follow his retreating blue form - Chan picked his outfit this year, and of course he decided Felix should be an Among Us character.

Everyone in the group knows about the slight tension (read: obvious beef) between you and Hyunjin. Technically speaking, you’re friends. He invites you to his parties, you hang out with him when he’s with the boys. It’s just that neither of you can stand each other, because you’re both very bold and even more stubborn.

Whenever the two of you are together, you bicker like children and it’s pretty much endless. You could probably throw insults (and the occasional murder threat) at each other all day if the other members didn’t interrupt, and on those days you’d be more than happy to teach Hyunjin a lesson with a nice, strong punch in the nose if the opportunity were ever to present itself.

So, with this in mind, it’s quite clear why you’re planning Felix’s murder when you see Hyunjin walking around as the big, bad wolf.

You’re genuinely considering sneaking out the front door before anyone else sees you and running back to your apartment (because Felix just so happens to be your ride home), but fate decides to mess with you and suddenly, Hyunjin locks eyes with you from across the living room.

The way a huge smile instantly graces his pretty face sends a rush of butterflies, followed by anger, through you as you stare back at him. His clip on wolf ears are admittedly quite cute, but the fake fangs he’s wearing send your thoughts in a very different direction. As he makes his way over, you suddenly wish you had followed Felix to the kitchen - at least they keep the alcohol in there. In his living room, you’ve got no choice but to deal with Hyunjin while sober.

”Well, would you look at that? Seems like I found my little red riding hood.” he teases with a wink, leaning against the wall beside the door.

When you scoff at him, he gives you another big grin and you can’t help but stare at the fangs again. The vibrant blue contact lenses he’s wearing make his gaze feel intense even when he’s smiling, and the way his long, blonde hair falls freely gives him a glow that’s both angelic and positively demonic. He looks so annoyingly handsome, as per usual; if only his personality wasn’t the personification of the words ‘cocky asshole’. You can’t help but think it’s a huge waste of beauty.

“Excuse me-” you begin, ready to start the first round of arguing, but he cuts you off like the annoying brat he is.

“You’re excused,” he says, thinking his comment was very smart, and if it wasn’t a night meant for fun and games, you might’ve killed him on the spot.

“Fine, excuse you. I’m not your little red riding hood. In fact, I’m not your anything, thank you very much,” you snap, brushing past his tall figure as you head to the table the boys have set up to the side. There’s an array of Halloween-themed food, prepared by Chan, and you settle for a red velvet cupcake decorated with black frosting and what you assume are meant to be cat ears poking out of it.

“Right, sure, but we’re still matching tonight. It’s kind of like-”

This time, you cut him off. “It’s not like Chan and Felix. It’s not. We’re not wearing couple costumes, so don’t say it.”

He shuts his mouth (finally) and you take it as your cue to leave before he says something else to piss you off. Unfortunately, he seems to have the desire to ruin your night further and chooses to follow you on your journey.

“So anyway, I guess this was Felix’s plan, right?” He gestures to your costumes. “Unless you had something to do with it, that is.”

You don’t bother to address the second part of what he said and instead just nod, scanning the room for the previously mentioned mastermind. As soon as you can get your hands on that boy, you swear you’ll slaughter him for subjecting you to Hyunjin’s torturous teasing all night.

“He was already on thin ice after trying to tell me Bulbasaur is a better starter than Charmander, but now he’s actually dead to me,” you growl out once you spot him sitting beside Minho, laughing happily with his classic red solo cup and a slice of chocolate cake. Jeongin sits beside them, tearing open bags of candy with no assistance from Felix, because of course he was lying about helping him earlier.

Hyunjin laughs softly and you curse your heart for skipping a beat at the sound. Sometimes it feels like your head hates Hyunjin while your body is stupid enough to like him, and it’s part of the reason why you hate talking to him so much. Every time you stop throwing insults and sass at him and instead sit back and listen to what he has to say, a part of you realises you don’t exactly have a proper reason for disliking him. He’s not all that bad, and sometimes you even find yourself laughing at his jokes and witty remarks.

But you’d really rather not go through the endless cycle of those thoughts right now, especially when the cause of your problems is standing beside you eating a chocolate bar.

“I have to say, though,” you comment as you turn to look him up and down, “the big, bad wolf concept suits you pretty well.”

Before he can accept the compliment, you continue. “You’re both big, hairy beasts who dress like grandmas.”

The obvious offence on his face is so satisfying you almost wanna snap a photo to reflect on this moment in the future, but you refrain from doing so. He would just pose anyway, and the photo would probably end up making your stupid heart flutter again.

“Well, at least you think I’m big. Besides, if dressing like a grandma gets me closer to eating you, then I suppose it’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” he whispers in a husky, seductive voice that kind of makes you want to choke-slam him, but you suspect he might enjoy that anyway.

It angers you when he makes flirty comments like that, because as annoying as they are and despite you knowing full well he only says it to get under your skin, it still makes your heart race every time. Maybe in another universe, Hyunjin is a sweet boy who innocently flirts with you and brings you roses instead of a big, bad bitch who’s just acting like a horny teenager. Annoyingly enough though, you think you’d fall for him either way.

You turn away with the intention of finally escaping to the kitchen to grab something to drink, hoping to settle the thoughts dancing around your head, but he reaches for your wrist. The feeling of his fingers pressing warmth into your skin just makes your head spin even more, and you’re so distracted you don’t pull away from him.

"Aw, don’t run away now. Are you scared of me, little red? There’s no need to be, I’m just joking. I won’t bite unless you beg me to."

You pull your arm back as soon as the words leave his mouth. Hyunjin has a lot of things (a severely irritating personality, a stupidly handsome face for such an asshole, a loud voice solely meant for pissing you off on a daily basis, the list goes on), but the thing he definitely has most is the fucking audacity.

However, the most annoying part by far is the way you feel your face heat up when you register the last thing he said. You’d rather die than let him make you flustered, so you shake your head slightly to clear those thoughts from your mind and look him in the eye again.

"Scared? Me?" you scoff, staring him down with a steady glare and if he was anyone else, he'd probably shiver in fear.

Unfortunately, he is not anyone else. He is Hwang Hyunjin, and Hwang Hyunjin does not shiver; he beams with a smug grin and makes your blood boil.

"Mhm. Look at you. You’re basically dressed as my prey tonight, babe." He purrs the pet name like the absolute fuckboy he is. "And sure, the real you is feisty, but you're all bark and no bite."

The overly confident, proud smirk on his face makes him look like a damn peacock flaunting its feathers, and you decide then and there that you'll do anything to get rid of it.

"All bark," you echo his words, walking towards him slowly, "and no bite, huh?"

You swear you see his eyes widen for a split second at your change in demeanor before the stupid smirk returns, and the little rush of victory you feel from catching him off guard is enough to keep you walking forward.

His gaze never leaves yours, especially when you're standing on the tips of your toes in front of him, noses just barely brushing against each other. Your hands grip his shoulder to balance you, and you run a finger over his collarbone up towards his cheek, where you gently cup his face. The small distance between the two of you means you can hear his slightly uneven breathing and see the curiosity swirling in his bright blue eyes as he waits for your next move.

You reach a hand up and thread your fingers through his long, bleach blonde hair, and his breath hitches when you gently tug at it. Even his wolf ears almost seem to droop submissively. He doesn't dare move, but his eyes keep flicking down to your lips and back up again.

"Now, that's just not true at all, is it?" you whisper, tilting your head as if waiting for an answer, but he can't find the words to form a witty response. It’s about time he learned some manners, really, even if he needed your guidance for that.

"I'm warning you now," you continue, "you might wanna watch your tone. I might look like your prey, but I promise I bite harder than you do, babe."

You make sure to emphasise the pet name, purring it in the same way he did minutes before. He bites down on his bottom lip, and the way his fangs press into them makes you lick your own lips nervously. It seems as though he can't take the tension anymore, because he goes to lean in and finally close the distance between the two of you as his hands find your hips.

Of course, you'd never let him have that control, especially after his bold attitude from earlier. Even though the temptation to lean in is certainly there, you step away from him and smile sweetly.

"Learned your lesson yet, puppy?"

He doesn’t respond for a moment, clearly still taking in what just happened. When he registers your question, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought - the way a dog might, funnily enough - before he hums quietly.

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should teach me once more, little red,” he suggests, voice low and slightly breathless, “but preferably a bit more in depth this time.”

- ᴇ ɴ ᴅ -

(A/N: AHHHHH I haven’t written a oneshot in SUCH a long time oh my god,,,,, it was a lot of fun tho even if I’m not super confident writing full things. this one was short anyway so I kinda feel like it doesn’t count, but I’m still v happy to finally post my first skz oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading <3)

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taeken-my-heart · 4 years

Text

Moirai Chapter 16

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 7995

NOTES: This is THE chapter so buckle in. You’re welcome and also…I’m sorry, hahahaha.

Also, thank you so, so much to @johobi and @hobios for helping me with the draft of the smut scene. Your thoughts and critiques helped me so much and I’m really grateful!

You weren’t sure if people could smell like bus, but if they could then you most certainly did. An hour bus ride home with a small overnight bag was uncomfortable enough, but the guy next to you fell asleep about half way through and your shoulder became his unfortunate pillow.

He wheezed in his sleep and you’d tried to wriggle your way from underneath him but he was much bigger and heavier than you and if you wriggled too much the bushy red beard attached to his face would have made its way into your own.

Your dad was at the bus station waiting for you when you arrived. The sleeping man had yawned and stretched as if he hadn’t just been invading your personal space for the better part of 30 minutes before standing and disembarking.

You smiled at your father in relief as he waved from beside the car before making your way over, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey dad.” You smiled, giving him a big hug and he squeezed the air right out of your lungs with a laugh.

“It’s been too long, baby girl!” He grinned, ruffling your hair and you frowned.

“You should know to never touch a woman’s hair.” You huffed.

“Your mom likes it.” He shrugged with a wink and you grimaced.

“Ew, dad, too much information.”

The car was stuffy with late summer heat but your dad turned the ac on quickly and put the car in reverse. The scenery was all mostly as you remembered; the suburbs didn’t really change much, it seemed. A new house here and there, a restaurant you’d never seen before, but otherwise it seemed trapped in time.

It was comforting and a little unnerving all at the same time. You felt like you were traveling back in time with a fresh set of eyes. A strange sense of déjà vu settled over you; like suddenly you had a do over.

“Once we get home we’ve gotta get ready to go over to the rehearsal. Your mom and sister are already over there helping set some things up.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “I’ll just drop my bag in my old room and we can go straight from there.”

Your bedroom looked different these days. The bedding was the same and there were still some of your old awards and pictures hanging on the walls, but most of the things that gave a room personality and injected the feeling of being lived in had been removed when you’d gone off to college.

You really hadn’t been back to this bedroom much in the last 12 years. Between your bachelor’s degree, medical school, and now working in the city, you hadn’t had the time or even the inclination. Besides, you’d moved in with Jimin not long after the two of you had started dating so it hadn’t made sense to go back home at that point.

You dropped your bag on your bed, the blanket looking as though it hadn’t been used since the day you’d moved out. You didn’t have time to examine anything further or feel nostalgic so you left your room quickly, heading back out to the car where your dad was waiting.

The wedding venue was large and bright; much like your sister. You could see her at the front of the dining hall, directing someone who was hanging fairy lights from the ceiling and looking beautiful in her daisy yellow sundress and white sandals. You felt underdressed in your jeans and tank top, but you’d only brought one other outfit and that involved sweatpants, so beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Oh, Y/N, there you are!” Your mother called and Ella switched her gaze to you, smile growing as she ran to you. You were surprised she didn’t break an ankle in those shoes, but she’d always been the more graceful of the two of you.

“You made it!” She squealed, jumping up and down and you giggled into her hair as you clung tightly back. “I mean, of course I knew you would, but I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” You grinned, hugging your mom as she came to greet you. “So, where do you need me?”

“We’re almost done, actually.” Ella said, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and looking far prettier than was reasonable while doing so. “Michael is just with the caterer now making sure everything over there is sorted. We’re going to start the rehearsal as soon as Mindy gets here. She’s helping the florist bring the last of the roses.”

“Sounds pricey.” You grinned and your father clutched at his heart.

“Let’s not talk about it.”

Mindy made her way in a few minutes later, long blonde hair piled on her head in a messy bun that she made look classy and a large bouquet of red roses clutched in her hands. She’d been Ella’s best friend since beauty school and even though she was a little ditzy and filled with a few too many giggles, she was really nice and super loyal.

“Hello!” She greeted enthusiastically, placing the bouquet down on a nearby table and blowing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s so nice to see you again!”

She gasped, running to give you a hug and you smiled, patting her back gently.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mindy. How have you been?”

“So good!” She smiled, “just doing hair and dating cute boys.” She giggled again and you smiled, squeezing her arm.

“Sounds like fun.”

Ella’s wedding planner called everyone over, directing people to their places and the rest of the rehearsal went smoothly. The rehearsal dinner included the whole wedding party as well as the Jeon’s because they’d always felt like family anyway.

Jungkook had just arrived shortly before dinner started and he’d sat with Michael and his groomsmen so you hadn’t had much of a chance to talk. Not that you had anything to say, anyway. You’d stepped into a weird part of your relationship that you weren’t sure how to navigate.

You didn’t hate him anymore, but you wouldn’t call him a friend, either. It was like awkward teenage stumbling’s when you’re first trying to get to know your crush. You hated it a little bit.

The end of the night brought with it warm goodbyes and promises to see each other tomorrow afternoon. You were filled with laughter, good food, and a little bit too much wine, but you were excited for the morning.

Ella had decided to spend the last night of her single life back in her childhood bedroom and the two of you giggled and talked late into the evening before retiring to bed. You felt good and warm, wrapped up in the blankets of your childhood bed, but happy memories can only hold off the bad for so long and soon you were drifting to sleep with the thought of Jimin’s smiling face and a plus one spot that was now empty.

The silent ache in your chest was persistent. As the sun crept through your old bedroom window and across your bed you sighed, staring up at the soft white curtains and chewing on your thumb nail. This was not how you’d imagined yourself feeling on the morning of your little sister’s wedding. You should have been overcome with happiness for her, but all you could feel was misery.

Sad that in the end, a man you’d loved so deeply, who had professed his own love for you, had decided that he did suddenly believe in soulmates. What was worse was that you understood and were now going to be stuck at a table with your own soulmate for who knows how many hours feeling sad, uncomfortable, and every other emotion that was far from joy on your sister’s big day.

You felt selfish; ruminating in the mess that was your current situation. You could hear the faint shuffling sounds of feet on the other side of your door and you listened softly as someone stepped into the bathroom, turning on the fan as they closed the door.

It wasn’t doing you any good just laying here, you weren’t going to fall asleep with such heavy thoughts so, heaving a sigh, you stood and trudged your way downstairs and to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

You were going to need the caffeine to even pretend that you were happy about anything this morning. Just as the button clicked off and you were removing the pot from its base you heard shuffling in the hallway behind you.

“You’re up early!” Your sister remarked as she stepped into the kitchen.

“So are you.” You mumbled over the rim of your cup. Too bitter. Where was the cream?

“I couldn’t sleep,” she gushed, “I’m just too excited. I can’t believe the day is finally here!”

You nodded, staring into the swirling amber of your cup as you placed it carefully on the counter top. “Yeah, it came crazy fast.”

“It’s amazing how this time last year Michael and I didn’t even know each other.” She hummed excitedly and you smiled softly at her.

“Life changes so quickly, right?”

“It seriously does! One minute you’re wondering whether or not you even have a damn soulmate and the next thing you know he’s there, completing your life in a way you never thought possible.” She looked at you and as if suddenly realizing what she was saying she looked down sheepishly at her hands. “I mean, not that you can’t be complete without someone, of course.” She mumbled lamely and you smiled.

“It’s ok,” you murmured, “I get it.”

“This is all such bad timing for you.” She frowned, “I’m so sorry, this must be really hard.”

“Don’t be sorry!” You sighed, stepping around the island to grab her hand. “Yeah, my life isn’t exactly how I imagined it but that should have no bearing on your big day. Today is all about you and Michael, it’s a really special time when you get to marry your soulmate. We should be celebrating it, not thinking about me.”

“I know,” she said softly, “but I feel bad. The Jeon’s are going to be at the table with us, Y/N, and you’re just expected to sit there with him and watch your little sister marry her soulmate while your own is…anyway. It’s just not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” you smiled sadly, “but we can either give up, lay down and die, or we can decide to be happy no matter what.”

“You have such a good attitude.” She said, lip trembling, “I’m not nearly as strong as you.”

“I’m afraid that strength comes from pain and I would never wish that on you. I hope you stay innocent and happy forever.” You grinned, pulling her into your arms and hugging her tight.

“I love you, Y/N, thank you for being here with me and helping me through this. It means a lot to me.”

“You’re my sister,” you replied, pulling back to look at her, “literally nothing could have stopped me.”

“Well, let me do something for you then. I want to do your hair and makeup!”

“Oh no, not on your wedding day!” You insisted. Your sister had gone on to become a very talented hair dresser and under normal circumstances you would never hesitate to allow her to fix the rat’s nest on top of your head, but not on her special day.

“I insist. Besides, I’m the bride so I can do what I want and I want to do your hair. I can’t have you disgracing my pictures with something simple just because you don’t know what you’re doing.” She teased and you grinned.

“Well, when you put it like that, it seems it would be rude to refuse.”

“Exactly!”

One hairstyle and your beautiful lavender maid of honor dress later, you were on your way to the venue with your mother and sister, your father insisting he’d help the groom with picking up his tux from the rental place. Your sister was lavish, her fiancé was not. She’d shuddered at the idea of a rental tuxedo but he had insisted.

After Ella had applied some simple makeup to your face, you’d stepped in to help your sister with her own. Not that she needed any help. Beauty school had taught her enough that she knew her way around a makeup kit.

The pews filled up quickly and Michael stood waiting, looking like the nervous groom he was. Ella was beautiful as she walked forward, a vision of white satin and lace. It was a bittersweet feeling, watching your younger sister marry; but you were proud to say you cried for all the right reasons.

Ella had hired a big band to play at the reception and they started off with an upbeat tempo jazz song that had people jumping up to dance. You grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters, taking a deep breath and heading to your table. Jungkook was the only one sat there currently, both his parents and yours swinging eagerly to the beat in the middle of the fray.

You took your seat, which had of course been put right next to his, and took a careful sip of your drink. “They’re a beautiful couple.” Jungkook said and you nodded, humming.

“Yeah, they look good together.”

He turned to look at you, vision trailing slowly across your face and you resisted the urge to shiver. The pull towards him had been stronger recently, an inexplicable need to be close to him burned in your chest. You’d never heard of this sort of thing before; the burn of needing to be with your soulmate.

You’d always been told that you had the freedom to choose, that you would never be forced to be with your soulmate. No one ever told you it would hurt to not be with him, though. The ache that Jimin had left behind was becoming easier to bear but only because the pain of seeing Jungkook and not having him was somehow just as bad.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He murmured softly. You looked over at him, leaning his forearms against the table and staring down at his fingers locked together.

“Thank you.” You mumbled. Clearing your throat, you looked away awkwardly, “you look handsome.”

You could see the heat in Jungkook’s face without having to look directly at him. His foot began to bounce awkwardly beneath the white linen table topper and you took a few large gulps of your drink to squash your nerves.

You weren’t even really sure why you were nervous in the first place. You’d known Jungkook all your life, seen him at his absolute worst and he’d seen yours too. There was no good reason for you to feel any nervous fluttering in the pit of your stomach. But it was there all the same.

Jungkook downed the rest of his drink before standing and turning to face you. “I would really like to dance with you…if you would let me.”

You looked up at him, smiling softly. “You know I’m a terrible dancer, I’d have to have a lot more champagne in me to set foot on that floor.”

“That can be done!” Jungkook insisted, holding his hands out in front of him to signal you wait before darting off to the open bar.

He returned a few minutes later with a small tray of liquor; two flutes of champagne and six shots of what you assumed was vodka. “To loosen us up,” Jungkook signaled to the shots, “and to chase down the taste.” A head nod at the champagne.

You chuckled, grabbing one of the shots and clinking it against his own before you both threw them back, hissing at the burn. “This stuff is awful.” He wheezed, eyes watering.

Nodding your agreement, you coughed. “It does the job.”

Two more shots down and one empty champagne flute later, you were feeling much less tension in your shoulders. The only thing that could have made it better was taking off your shoes and the relatively uncomfortable dress you were currently locked in. But even in your mildly inebriated condition you had enough decorum to know that was not cool at your sister’s wedding.

“Ok!” Jungkook said, slapping his hands together and startling you, “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling way more inclined to dance.” He stood, holding out his hand to you and waiting, confidently, as though he knew you better than you did and was sure you would say yes.

Maybe he did know you better.

You took his hand, allowing him to pull you up and into the swaying bodies as the band began a slow song and then you were sinking into his chest, one hand wrapped around his shoulder and the other held securely in his own.

“You look really beautiful.” He said and you smiled.

“You told me.”

“I wanted to tell you again.” He said softly, “you should be told you’re beautiful every day.”

“Wow,” you chuckled, staring down at your feet, “did you swallow a romance novel or something?”

“No,” he grinned, “the alcohol is just making my tongue loose; spilling all the words I’ve been meaning to say.”

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You mumbled.

“Well now you should tell me I look beautiful too.” He smiled and you laughed loudly.

“Oh, the alcohol really is loosening your tongue.”

Jungkook grinned, “Come on now.”

“You look beautiful, Jungkook.” You smiled.

“Thank you.” He said softly, looking down at you. You wanted to look away, his gaze felt too intimate, but you couldn’t. Brown eyes pulled you right into their center, scorching you.

His hand in the center of your back was too warm, tightening and pulling you closer to his chest. You could see everything up close, the small scar on his cheek, long eyelashes blinking down at you, and a perfect cupid’s bow that for some strange reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off of.

The music had faded into the background, the people all but disappearing. Your head felt fuzzy and light and you watched in a daze as Jungkook’s eyes flickered from yours and down to your lips. It was so quick you almost didn’t notice.

“Can we talk in private?” He whispered before pulling you gently from the reception hall and around the corner. You could feel the alcohol sloshing around in your veins as you trailed after him into a vacant hallway.

Leaning up against the wall you watched him as he rubbed at his chin and into his hair, pacing the floor in front of you. 12 years really had done him so much good. He’d been a good-looking young man in high school, but age had made him devastatingly handsome and there was no way you could deny it.

“I’m not completely sober,” Jungkook started, “in fact I’m a little past tipsy, I’ll admit. I know my mind, though, and I’ve had you on it constantly for…well right now I can’t remember how long, but ask me again when I’m sober. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I want a chance to make things right, to be the man that you deserve. I want a chance to be in your life and to be important to you.”

“Jungkook, of course you’re important to me,” you started, but he lurched forward, crowding you against the wall and you looked up at him as he pushed your hair from your face.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, “I feel like I can’t breathe without you. I feel so tied to you, like a marionette doll, all you have to do is tell me to dance. Being without you has started to hurt, and I don’t just mean like a broken heart. My whole-body aches when I’m away from you and it aches when I’m with you because in the end, I’m not really with you, am I? You still hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” You murmured. “I’m afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me?” He questioned, eyebrows meeting.

“I’m afraid of the power you hold over me, how easy it could be for you to become my entire world and then shatter it; even worse than the last time. I’ve spent 12 years trying to forget the you-shaped hole you left in my heart. You’re not the only one aching, Jungkook.”

And just like that, the world caught fire, fingers sliding home into your hair as he pulled your lips against his. It was like a shot to the gut, an electric shock running through your veins. If you’d craved him before, you downright needed him now.

His mouth moved heatedly against yours, breathing you in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands traveled down your back and over the curve of your backside, squeezing the supple flesh in his hands to elicit a much-appreciated groan.

You knew you should stop him, tell him that you were probably going too fast. There was a lot you needed to talk about and there was a lot of hurt that needed to be healed, but, honestly, you wanted him too.

This kiss felt different from others. It was filled with an undercurrent that was building, building, building from your stomach and spreading like water through your chest. It was too powerful how right it felt, his lips moving steadily against yours and his fingertips running along your lower back.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” He breathed, sliding his lips along your throat and kissing down to your clavicle. He sucked a bruise into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you gasped, sliding your fingers into his hair. “To hold you.” A kiss against your cheek, “to touch you.” His lips pressed to your other cheek. “To just be with you.”

“In the biblical sense or the romantic sense?”

“All of the above.” He whispered against your lips before sliding his tongue back into your mouth and pushing you further against the wall. You felt him through his dress pants as he pushed his hips into yours and you felt like you’d been electrified.

Dizzy with desire, you pulled him closer to you, groaning into his mouth. “As much as I’m enjoying this, this isn’t exactly a private area.”

Jungkook pulled back slightly, looking around. “You’re right. Where can we go?”

“We can’t drive. Honestly, I’m pretty tipsy right now.”

“Me too.” Jungkook nodded, kissing along your jaw. “Let’s take a taxi.”

“Where?” You mumbled, kissing his chin softly.

“My parents’ place.”

You knew you shouldn’t, that you were very close to drunk and you’d likely regret it when you were sober again, but his lips on your body left you feeling even drunker than the alcohol.

His childhood bedroom was one you hadn’t seen since you were children, though you still barely saw it now as you were too busy stripping him of his suit and tie.

He was muscular, and you eyed him greedily wondering when he even had the time to work out with his schedule. You tried to run your hands down his stomach but he batted you away as he tugged your dress from your body and dropped it on the floor, pushing you down into the mattress.

“Eager?” You grinned and he looked up at you, gaze heavy.

“Like you wouldn’t even believe.”

You watched as he slowly undid his belt, eyes locked with yours before dropping it on the floor with a clink and returning to his zipper. He pulled it slowly down, pushing the fabric over his hips and onto the floor before stepping out of them and shucking them to the side.

“I like your Mario boxers.” You teased and he smirked.

“You’ve got a smart mouth.”

He leaned over you, kissing your lips before trailing a path down your chest and to the center of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut and back arching further into the warmth of his hand.

Jungkook moved his fingers behind you, pulling at the strap and slipping your bra from you, dropping it to the ground. He stared down at your chest; eyes wild with lust. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, before kissing a path across it, over your nipple and to the other side before taking your nipple and sucking it between his lips.

“Oh!” You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders and he nipped at your peaked flesh before kissing his way down to the line of your panties, rubbing his nose down the center and inhaling deeply.

You took a deep shuddering breath, watching as he placed a kiss and you shivered. There was no way you were going to survive this night.

Kissing his way to the waistband of your panties, he grabbed the fabric between his teeth and began to pull it from your hips. The tip of his nose had fire licking down your leg as it grazed your skin and you took a deep breath as he dropped your underwear over the side of the bed and returned to the middle of your legs.

“Open, please.” Jungkook murmured, pushing your legs apart gently before planting a kiss against your mound and you whined, heart racing.

His tongue flicked out, pushing through the seam of your lips and your hips lurched forward into the warmth of his mouth. He delved in further, holding your legs spread wide as he licked and sucked against your entrance, lips wrapping around your clit with a tug and you whined loudly.

He hoisted himself back over your face, flushed and panting and grinned. “Take off your boxers.” You said, watching as he happily complied, pulling the offending garment from his hips and dropping it to the ground with the rest of the clothes.

You wanted to pout at the sight. Jungkook was truly built to make all other men pale in comparison. He was impressive from his head to his toes and the thick appendage standing proudly between his legs was no different.

“Ready?” He asked, body crowding over yours in the bed and you nodded, feeling him prod your entrance with a whimper.

Jungkook wrapped his fingers around your thigh, pulling it high on his hip before pushing slowly into you. You gasped, skin tingling as he stretched your walls, Jungkook breathing into the side of your neck and kissing wet against your shoulder as his hips became flush with yours.

“Let me make you feel good.” He whispered, pulling out slightly before pushing back in and your whole body shuddered.

He swallowed your moans with his lips as he began to thrust shallowly, hand coming to greet your left nipple with a soft graze.

“Please.” You whimpered.

“What do you want? I’ll give it to you.” He whispered, nose skimming your cheek.

“Everything.”

You could feel his back flexing under the tips of your fingers and you ran your hands across his shoulders and into his raven hair, pulling gently.

He grunted, sucking on your bottom lip and thrusting a little harder and you shivered from pleasure.

“Jungkook.” You gasped, one hand clinging to the sheets beneath you as he pushed you further into the mattress with his hips.

“Say it again.” He murmured. “Say my name.”

“Jungkook.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say my name like that.” He panted, grinding his hips into yours.

“I didn’t know you ever thought of me.” You crooned, wrapping your other leg around his hip and lifting yours to meet his thrusts.

“You’ve been on my mind for years.” He admitted, kissing from the inside of your elbow to your shoulder. “Have you ever thought of me?”

You gasped as he hit a spot particularly deep inside you and ground against it. “Sometimes.” You admitted, seeking out his mouth and drowning in his taste.

“Can I go a little harder?” He whispered and you huffed a sigh against his lips as he swiveled his hips.

“Yes, please.”

He lifted himself up on the palms of his hands, pushing the hair from your face, “I wanna see your beautiful face when you cum.”

You blushed, body shivering at the notion just as he picked up speed, thrusting deeply into your center with groans and hisses of your name. You could already feel your orgasm building all the way down to your toes and the intensity scared you a little, but you could barely think about it as he kissed you sloppily, grabbing each rounded cheek of your backside and using it to grind himself heavily against your clit.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, fingertips tingling as something began to build in your chest. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before; an intense connection, a need to stay right here, with him. You could feel it around your heart, like a lasso, tethering you to him and it should have scared you, but in this moment, you realized you were falling for him.

You’d tried so hard to protect yourself from him, but no one had ever told you about this feeling; this need to be his and to have him in return. Jungkook kissed up the column of your throat, lips meeting yours once again as he gripped onto your thighs, pushing himself even harder into your center and you could barely see straight.

“Jungkook!” you moaned, body twitching. “You feel amazing.”

“So do you.” He choked, running a hand back down your chest and squeezing, “I’m not going to last much longer.” He huffed, breath stuttering against your cheek as he kissed it.

“Me too.” You admitted, running your hands down his back and across his thighs to curve under his ass and help him to thrust in harder.

Your skin felt hot, like sun baked cement in the middle of summer and you could feel your body starting to shiver in pleasure. Your toes curled, gasps of Jungkook’s name leaving your lips as he thrust in harder, and harder, and harder until you felt an explosion, traveling all the way up into your chest and out your fingertips as you called out his name.

You squeezed your eyes shut and saw only him behind tear filled lashes. Jungkook groaned one last time before shattering and painting your walls white. He shivered and slumped, laying still on top of you.

Just as your breathing steadied, he curled his arm beneath your neck, pulling your lips to his and kissing the life back into you, tongue swiping greedily against yours and you kissed him with just as much vigor.

“I’ll be right back.” He murmured, pulling from you with a wince before leaving the room and going into the hallway. You took a deep breath, shaky fingers pushing through your hair as you listened to him shuffling around in the bathroom.

A few moments later he returned, wet cloth in his hands and he kneeled between your legs. “Here, let me help you.” He said softly, and you watched, heart pounding as he cleaned gingerly between your thighs.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You murmured softly after he’d tossed the rag onto his old computer desk and he nodded, sitting back on the bed.

After peeing and washing your hands you stared at your reflection. Aside from sex mussed hair, a few hickeys, and kiss bitten lips, you didn’t look any different. You felt different, though. The connection was stronger and you could feel it in your bones.

Your heart felt so full, but the pain was still there, buried somewhere in the fog of a love you hadn’t realized had started building. You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly before sighing and making your way back to the bedroom.

Jungkook was still sat on the bed, staring down at his hands when you entered. He looked up at you, cheeks flushed with emotion (and probably some residual champagne). “Please don’t leave.” He whispered. “Stay the night with me.”

You paused, biting your bottom lip before nodding and padding over to him, bending down and kissing him quickly. “Scoot over, then.”

He smiled, pulling the covers back before scooting next to the wall and you curled into his side, shivering as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your body flush with his. He looked down at you, pushing the hair away from your face and cupping your cheek. “Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled softly. He leaned down, kissing you gently.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night.”

The first thing you noticed when you woke was the pounding in your head. One too many flutes of champagne could do that to a woman. The next was the definite presence of a weight across your waist and someone’s chest pressed to your back.

You tried not to whimper as you squeezed your eyes shut tighter. Perhaps if you didn’t open your eyes, none of this would be real. A soft sigh greeted the skin of your neck, a nose running along the column and you shivered.

Glancing over your shoulder, you noted that Jungkook was still asleep and you heaved a sigh of relief. At least you didn’t have to discuss what happened right this second. You weren’t even sure yourself.

Of course, you remembered what happened, how every taste and touch was like fire, consuming you. You remembered the rush of endorphins, the feeling of all-consuming love. But now that you were sober and the sun was casting light over the fog of your thoughts, you mostly felt fear.

Building a relationship on lust alone wasn’t healthy or possible and so far, that’s really all the two of you had together. The feelings had been strong in the moment, but without even a basic friendship to build on, you knew this would only end in more heart break.

So, you steeled yourself, slipping carefully from his grasp and dressing quickly. You glanced back at him, still sleeping soundly, hand splayed across the space where your body had been, before closing the door and walking softly down the stairs.

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here!” You gasped, spinning to face the kitchen, clutching at your heart and looking at Mrs. Jeon who stood by the counter with a coffee in her hands. She smiled at you, a knowing look in her eyes and you wanted to shrivel up and die.

“I-I-I, yeah, I’m actually going now, though.”

“You should stay for a coffee. I’m sure Jungkook will be up soon.”

“I’m sure he will be.” You nodded, playing with a string at the side of your dress.

“Everyone deserves a second chance; don’t you think dear?” She asked suddenly and you looked up at her, cheeks flushing with shame.

“I suppose it depends on what’s been done.” You mumbled lamely, not daring to meet her gaze.

There was a soft lull in the conversation before she continued, “that boy really cares about you, you know. I can see you care about him too. I know there’s a lot of pain in the past, but being allowed to move on from it would be good for you both.”

You could hear hurried steps from the floor above you and you looked up in alarm. “I need to go!” You said, walking quickly to the door just as you heard Jungkook call your name from the top of the stairs.

You rushed down the front steps and made a run for it across the garden before heavy footfall and your name were greeting you once more.

“Wait!” Jungkook called, wrapping his fingers around your forearm and forcing you to a stop, a whimper falling from your lips. “Where are you going?” His eyes screamed desperation and you couldn’t look at him.

“I need to go.” You mumbled, flinching as he reached out for your face, stroking a thumb down the side of your cheek.

“Where? Can’t we talk first?”

“I need to go home. I have work tomorrow.” You insisted, a little firmer.

“So do I. Don’t do this, Y/N, don’t run from me. We were both there last night, I know that you felt it too. It wasn’t just sex; it was more than that and you know it. It was like being completed; two pieces of the puzzle finally being put back together.”

“I’m not a broken puzzle, Jungkook!” You shouted and he took a step back in surprise. “Why does everyone treat you like you’re broken if you’re not with your soul mate? I just broke up with the man I thought I was going to marry; I’m vulnerable. That’s the only reason last night even happened.”

Jungkook’s face shuddered, bleeding emotion as he looked down at the ground. You realized belatedly that he was only wearing a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, as though he’d dressed in a hurry. Your heart clenched at the thought.

The grass poked out from between his toes and he sighed, a deep, mournful sound. “Are you ever going to forgive me?” He whispered.

You were trying to protect your heart, but at this point it seemed so futile. Just walking away from him was breaking it more than you’d expected. “I need to go home.” You said. “I’ll see you at work.”

Your apartment felt so empty when you returned. No Jimin to help you fill the darkened corners. You’d packed in a hurry, throwing whatever you’d brought with you back into your bag, doing your best to avoid your parents’ questions about where you’d been all night.

They’d find out at some point, anyway. You knew Mrs. Jeon wouldn’t keep this to herself for long. For years Jungkook had been “the bad guy” and now it was you and you couldn’t face it.

Guilt clawed at your insides the entire trip back and now, standing in your doorway, you decided that instead of facing any of your responsibilities, you would hide from them. Burrowing under the covers of your bed, reaching out for Jimin’s old pillow and clutching it to your chest, you cried.

You hadn’t exactly been lying when you told Jungkook you were vulnerable, sleeping with him was a rebound in a way…but it was also so much more than that.

You hated to admit it, but he was wearing away at your steely exterior. Chipping at the ice that had covered your heart when he’d rejected you all those years ago.

There was a part of you that feared if you pushed him away too much, you’d miss out again. A man could only take so much rejection before he gave up entirely. Another part of you wondered why that was something you were afraid of.

You’d both grown up; changed, and now Jungkook seemed so ready to just dive head first into the deep end. You couldn’t forget, though. You couldn’t let go. It was foolish, but the snub still burned bright in your memory and him wanting you now didn’t change the fact that back when it really counted; he hadn’t.

The doorbell ringing made your muscles stiffen. Had Jungkook followed you to your apartment? Was it Jimin; had he left something behind?

You stood slowly, apprehension building in your chest, and made your way to peer through the peephole of the door.

Lizzy was stood there, grin wide and arms flailing in a wave. You opened the door, peering at her curiously. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget?” She asked, not even bothering to pause before walking straight into your apartment and removing her bag. “You told me to come over at this time before you left for the wedding. Said you’d be back by now. Guess you’re a pretty accurate measure of time but not so much in the memory department.”

“Oh.” You said softly, closing the door. Lizzy threw her bag over the back of one of your chairs and turned to look at you, eyebrows meeting in the center of her forehead.

“Something happened.” She stated matter of factly and you knew it was no longer a secret you could keep. To be honest, you really needed someone to confide in right now.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “Did you want anything to drink?” You motioned lamely at the kitchen. Lizzy only shook her head, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the couch.

“Spill the beans.” She said, folding her legs crisscross once she’d sat down.

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I haven’t been honest with you the last few months. I hope when I tell you why you’ll be understanding.” Lizzy’s brows furrowed deeper together, but she said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m a pretty private person about my past; I don’t really like to talk about it because it hurts…but I can’t really hide it anymore, you’re bound to find out at some point and I’d rather it come from me.”

You slowly pulled up the sleeve of your sweater, displaying your wrist to your friend and watched as her lips parted in surprise.

“Jeon Jungkook? Dr. Jeon?”

You nodded and waited for the storm, but Lizzy only frowned. “Oh…wow. Ok, but I still don’t understand what the good doctor has to do with your past.”

Pulling your sleeve down, you linked your fingers together in your lap, pursing your lips in thought. “I’ve known Jungkook all my life. Our mothers have been best friends since elementary school and moved into the same neighborhood when they got married. We were practically raised together. For the first 18 years of my life I saw Jungkook nearly every day. We were friends as children but then drifted apart. He entered that mean little boy stage, you know what I mean.”

Lizzy nodded and you continued, “Anyway, we drifted apart for years but always acted like we were friends in front of our parents, didn’t want our moms to feel bad. He grew up to be really handsome and popular and all the girls wanted a piece, even my sister. They started getting really close and Jungkook had his birthday, got his tattoo but didn’t say anything. My birthday was 2 months later and when his name appeared on my wrist, I felt like I’d been punched.”

“He’d been pursuing my sister, acting like my name wasn’t there on his wrist. I confronted him and even after all of that I was still willing to make it work, he’s my soulmate after all. He didn’t want to, though. So, we cut ties, graduated high school, went to different colleges and didn’t see each other again until he started working at the hospital.”

“Wow.” Lizzy breathed and you nodded, frowning.

“It gets worse.”

“What happened?” She asked, eyes wide.

“We had sex last night.” You admitted; the words bitter on your tongue.

“Oh!” Lizzy gasped and you could already feel tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

“We were both tipsy and I was still heartbroken over Jimin and he just kept talking about how he wanted another chance to prove himself; that he’s not 18 anymore and we just got carried away.”

“What was it like?” Lizzy asked carefully, “sex with your soulmate?”

“Fireworks.” You cried, “There are no words to describe it. It felt like going your whole life thinking you’re content only to find out you’ve been missing a giant hole in the center of your heart and now it’s been filled and you’re complete and in fact it’s spilling over the edges and there’s just so much love that you can’t possibly hold it all so it just goes to every corner or your body until you think you might burst.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I’m terrified!” You wailed. “He’s been my enemy for the better part of 20 years and now I feel like I can’t breathe without him and I’m afraid. Aside from the brief moment of the initial rejection, I’ve never felt like I was an incomplete person but now I know what it’s like to have him and without him I feel the broken pieces of my soul shattering again.”

“So, the solution seems fairly clear to me. You guys need to be together. I can’t deny that I’m insanely jealous. Honestly, really, really envious. Not only do you know who your soulmate is, but he’s criminally hot.”

“It’s not that easy.” You sniffled, wiping at your nose.

“Why not?”

“Because we have history, Lizzy, and not a very happy one. It’s a lot to try to work through.” You frowned, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“So then work through it.” Lizzy deadpanned.

“But then he gets what he wants. He always gets what he wants. He didn’t want a soulmate so I left him alone and now that he wants me, I’m supposed to just give in?” You soured.

“You sound really vindictive right now. You said your past was painful which means the rejection hurt. You were willing to try back then, what’s changed?”

“Why does he always get to win? He deserves to feel some pain too!” You complained.

“So, you’re holding a grudge?”

“No!” You insisted childishly.

“Really? Because it sounds like you are to me. He was a kid back then, probably scared out of his mind. He was staring his future right in the face and probably wasn’t ready for the responsibility. He’s a fully-grown man now, more established in the world and he’s realized what he threw away all those years ago. Don’t you think people can change?” She asked, frowning at you and you felt more ashamed than before.

“Of course.” You admitted softly.

“What you and Jimin had was beautiful and healthy and despite that, he was willing to push it all aside because his soulmate changed his world. He didn’t even believe in soulmates! Doesn’t that say something?”

“Please don’t talk about him.” You bit out and Lizzy sighed.

“I’m just saying. You have an opportunity at love again, and this time it’s the real thing, as real as it gets. Are you really willing to throw it all away because you can’t let go of something an 18-year-old boy did 12 years ago? Really?”

“He broke my heart, Lizzy.” You murmured, the tears starting all over again as you picked at the fraying edges of your second hand couch.

“And that sucks, it really does and I’m sorry about it…but tell me, how do you feel right now? Now that he’s changed his mind and you’re running away instead? Be honest with me.”

You paused, lip trembling before you choked out a soft cry, “Now I feel like I’ve broken my own heart.”

“Do yourself a favor, Y/N, let yourself fall in love with him. You deserve to be happy.”

“What if he breaks my heart again?” You whispered.

“He’s a man, he’s probably going to make you cry a few times over your life time; it’s just what men do. If a soulmate’s love is really all they say it is, though…it’s worth it.”

You huffed, rubbing at your face and Lizzy smiled, “Just think about it, hmm?” When you nodded, she stood, going back to her bag and reaching into the pocket, pulling out a DVD. “You up for a movie?”

“Sure, I could use the distraction.” Tomorrow was back to work and you assumed that you’d have to deal with Jungkook. You weren’t sure how, but somehow Lizzy had to be right, somehow, it had to be worth it. People wouldn’t keep seeking out their soulmates and living seemingly blissful lives if it weren’t worth it. Right?

I hope you enjoyed this long awaited chapter! Let me know what you think! <3

Chapter 15

Chapter 17 (Finale)

#btsbookclub #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

311 notes · View notes

bangtan-madi · 5 years

Text

546 Days Without You — One: Negative 41

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 3.1k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 1 / 15

A/N — Hey lovelies! This is the first chapter of an estimated 15 part series. Feedback is always welcome! I anticipate a chapter of this story going up every weekend, either Saturday or Sunday. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!!

(gif not mine. credit to original creator.)

Previous — Next

Not every great love story starts with a chance encounter, and not every beautiful relationship blossoms from love at first sight. Sometimes the universe has a sense of humor as she tosses two unlikely people at each other just to see what could happen.

Sometimes it's not love, but annoyance at first sight.

"All right, again, from the top," you state into the microphone at your desk. "This time, try to nail that middle note. I know you got it in you, Kook."

Jungkook glances up from the sheets of music that line his podium in the recording studio. From behind the glass, he gives you a big thumbs up and boyish grin.

"That's producer-speak for, 'Again...but with passion!"

You don't have to turn to know who's sneaked up behind you, speaking over your shoulder and into the mic so Jungkook can hear.

The youngest member snickers, replying, "Aish, I got it, Hyung. Go back to your own room."

"I finished recording mine!" Seokjin retorts, causing you to finally glance over your shoulder at him. "My vocals were flawless so it didn't take nearly as long as the rest of you."

Without thinking, you pop your elbow back just hard enough to hit Seokjin in the ribs. Being the dramatic fool that he is, Seokjin jumps back, cradling his rib cage as if he's just been shot. The look on his face only causes you to roll your eyes.

"Oh, you're fine," you murmur. "What were you recording anyway? You didn't say."

He shrugs. "Mostly just practice, nothing specific."

"Well, if you're done being secretive, can you go be annoying somewhere else, just for a few minutes so JK can finish his session?"

"What do I get out of it?"

You tap your chin for a moment, pretending to think it over. "My undying gratitude?"

Seokjin scoffs. "I already have that, Jagiya."

"C'mon, Jin," Jungkook intervenes. "Leave [Y/n] noona alone."

"Five minutes? Then I'm off the clock and all yours. Until then, maybe go bug my brother. I know that makes you happy."

At the mention of Min Yoongi, Seokjin's face spreads into a wide smile. He leans down, presses a quick kiss to your cheek, and says, "Okay, okay, I get it. I'll go bug Yoongi until you're done. Then I'm holding you to your word."

Attempting to hide the happiness that simple gesture brings you is hopeless, so you settle for saying, "See you in a minute!"

Seokjin flashes a wink as he reaches for the doorknob. "Don't you dare be late."

Once the oldest member has left the room, you turn back to Jungkook with a grin and wave of your hand. "You heard the man: Again, but with passion!"

After wrapping up at the studio—a task that takes closer to an hour than five minutes, like you initially promised—you turn off the lights and lock the door on your way out. Jungkook had really sung his heart and soul today, and you couldn't help the proud smile that stays on your face on the bike ride home.

You're lucky. Of this, you're very much aware. Not only are you involved in one of the most lucrative businesses in South Korea but the particular company you've dedicated yourself to for the past eight years is truly one of a kind. Big Hit has given you so many opportunities, just like all of the other five-hundred-ish employees. Your CEO, Bang Si-Hyuk who is often referred to as either Hitman Bang or Bang PD, is one of the most passionate and empathetic humans you've ever met. If it weren't for him, there's not a change Big Hit would be where it is today. The co-CEO, Lenzo Yoon, is also a talented man, but he came into the picture far later than Bang PD, around March of last year.

But your luck doesn't just stop with the company or its leaders. Your specific job is one you've always wanted. Not only do you get to manage some of the best music coming out of your country, but you get to produce and write it alongside the biggest band in the world. This is a group that includes some of the most important people to you, including your older brother by two years Yoongi, your boyfriend of four years Seokjin, and your best friends of almost eight years which make up the rest of the group.

You don't like to think of your life as fate or destiny, but hard work and a little luck paying off after years of struggling.

There's no greater example of your success than what you get to come home to. Some people might see the nice apartment in downtown Seoul and think that's what you mean by success. Nice things, nice home, nice location just down the street from Big Hit HQ. But what you mean when you say success is the person, or people, you get to come home to.

On most days, the entire band is at the dormitories a few blocks away, but a couple years ago, you and Seokjin decided to get a place to yourself so you could have some space as a couple. This is where you spend most nights, but Seokjin still splits his time between the two locations. Lately, you've noticed him spending more and more time at your shared apartment, and your heart sinks when you remember why.

The word feels like venom in your mouth, and your hands grip the handlebars tighter as you pull the bike through the front door of the apartment.

Enlistment.

Everyone knew this was coming. It doesn't make it any easier to accept. Big Hit's had lawyers fighting against the boys' conscription for years. They've tried every argument they could think of: their impact on the South Korean economy, the fact that the Idol projects were started by and are still majority funded by the government and thus they've already served, the Hwagwan Order of Cultural Merit they were awarded by President Moon Jae-in himself.

So far, nothing has worked, but they swore they would keep trying until the very last day.

A string of uttered curse words brings you out of your thoughts and back to your surroundings. The beautiful apartment, simple and elegant as well as lived-in and homey, gives you an immense sense of comfort. As you park your bike in the interior walkway, you hear even angrier muttering from the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Seokjin stands over a set of sizzling pans. Several ingredients are strewn across the counters, and the heavenly scent of traditional Korean food fills your nose. Soft instrumental music plays in the background.

The sight wouldn't be unusual if it weren't for Seokjin cursing at the pan that's holding what should have been mildly brazened vegetables. However, the greens are charred beyond recognition, and Seokjin's palm is clutched to his chest.

"Wow, that radish must have seriously pissed you off."

Seokjin jumps and lets out a yelp. Knowing how easily scared he is, the sight makes you giggle, much to his dismay.

A scowl quickly replaces the fearful expression. "It's not nice to sneak up on an unsuspecting boyfriend, you know!"

"You'll live," you reply, teasingly popping a small slice of carrot into your mouth. You gesture for him to extend his hand. "Let me see?"

The brunet offers his hand, and you examine his palm. There's a small burn there, nothing too nasty, but it does look like it hurt a few moments ago. You bring the palm to your lips and kiss it tenderly before moving towards the pan of burnt vegetables.

"Burning the food and then yourself. Are you feeling okay, Jinnie? It's not like you to be so careless in the kitchen. I'd expect this sorta thing from Joon, but not you." Lifting your eyes to meet his, you add, "Something on your mind?"

Seokjin's smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but not in the way it usually does. It's not playful or teasing, nor is it caring or empathetic. It's a little sweet, a little sad, and a little bit too revealing of what's going on underneath.

"Honestly? I just wanted to have a nice night with my Jagiya. No talk of the album or tour, no one or several of the guys interrupting, no one but us. And I wanted to impress you by making your favorite meal!" He runs his un-burned hand through his hair, messing with the long black ends absentmindedly. "I guess I have a lot on my mind, and it distracted me."

You remove the pan of ruined food and place it quietly in the sink. "You wanna talk about it?"

"You probably already know, Jagi."

You do. Of course, you do. What else could make the happiest person you know this distracted and frustrated?

It's just like a few years ago, and you feel your chest tighten at the thought of the friend you lost. You felt a similar sense of impending doom just before he left for the military, too. After all these years, you thought you'd forgotten that feeling, only to have it return ten-fold with Seokjin.

Shaking your head, you turn on a different playlist—something more upbeat, and turn back to Seokjin with a grin. "C'mon. I'm hungry, and you need a sous chef."

Seokjin's somber expression melts away. Reaching into the cupboard nearest him, he pulls out two chef's hats that belonged to a couple's costume set you'd worn for Halloween a few years back. Being the goofball he is, Seokjin kept both hats and forces you to wear them whenever you cook together.

Placing the item on your head, tucking your hair behind your ears, he gives his signature windshield wiper laugh at your eye roll.

"You can be my little chef!"

The reference to the animated movie Ratatouille, which you both adore, causes you to chuckle along with him.

"So does that mean if I yank on your hair, you'll do what I want?"

Seokjin's laugh becomes outrageous and uncontrolled. Realizing how your words might've sounded, a deep heat rises in your face, and you pull your sweater collar up to cover your cheeks.

Your boyfriend claps his hands, thoroughly entertained by your reaction. "Well, you can give it a try, Jagi! I think that jus—"

"—Shut up or I'll stab you."

The laughter didn't stop for another few minutes, and the teasing didn't cease the entire night. If you're honest with yourself, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Seokjin was right; it's nice for once just to be alone together. Not that you don't adore the boys—hell, one of them is your brother—but it is nice to have a quiet night in, filled with good food and great company. Despite it just being the two of you, nights like these are never dull. You doubt there's ever been a dull moment in the man's entire life.

After the meal is finished, you decide to do your usual wind-down routine: shower, skincare, dancing on dangerously damp floors to the sound of your favorite playlist. The usual.

When you are finished, you exit the bathroom and enter immediately into the adjacent master bedroom. What you should've seen is something simple: a few pieces of furniture, various personal items, and a large mattress in the center. However, it seems as if Seokjin's taken the opportunity while you're in the shower to redecorate.

All the pillows are on the floor, in front of the mattress. Several duvets cover the floor. Throw blankets line the space, and curtains are strewn in the air above it, creating a sort of carnival-esque tent. Fairy lights are strung from the ceiling down to the interior of the space. BT21 character pillows line the exterior, creating a walkway of sorts. The whole space looks cozy and enchanting and well thought out.

He's gone way out of his way to make tonight special, you think to yourself.

You grab a notebook from your nightstand before nestling down into the pillow fort. You're unsure of where Seokjin has sneaked off to but are fairly certain he'll be back any moment. Until then, you hum gently a recently crafted melody to yourself, repeating it over and over, until you get it just right. Once nailed, you sketch the notes onto the blank music sheets inside your notebook, knowing that if you don't write it down you'll forget.

Yoongi's notification pings from your cellphone. Placing your notebook on your lap, you read the text before swiping to respond, all the while continuing to hum the newly created melody.

"You can sing like an angel and yet you still refuse to do vocals for us." Your eyes lift to meet Seokjin's as he stands in the door. "Do you like holding out on us or something?"

After seeing Yoongi respond with a smiley face emoji and a thumbs up, you turn off your cell and drop it onto the pillows. "How long have you been standing there?"

He shrugs. "Long enough."

"And...why are you staring at me?"

"So I can have a better picture of you in my mind."

You toss your notebook aside with an exasperated groan, only causing Seokjin to laugh. "You're so cheesy, my god."

His playful smile doesn't fade as he approaches the pillow fort. "Worldwide cheesy is my second nickname, you know."

"I am not calling you that. And I do not sing like an angel. So...no. Not holding out on anyone."

"But you do write your own lyrics and melodies. You don't share most of that with us, either. Except maybe with Yoongi, but that's not fair."

Seokjin plops down on top of you, his weight causing an "Oof," to slip from your lips. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and slips his arms under the small of your back.

"Are you seriously pouting because I tell my brother, my producer and songwriter brother, about my shitty drafts?"

A muffled, "Yes," comes from your boyfriend's mouth.

Rolling your eyes, you relax into the comforters and relish in the cozy and intimate atmosphere. One of your hands tangles in Seokjin's dark hair, playing absent-mindedly with his long hair. The other rests against his broad shoulders; your fingers dance along the edges of his ocean-blue sweater, the one you often steal for yourself.

"Tonight was really sweet," you whisper after a few minutes of silence. "You didn't have to go out of your way like that."

"I wanted to. We haven't spent a long of alone time together since we started pre-production on the next album. And before that, there was the tour for Seven. I feel like 2020 has been a year we've spent more apart than together, and it shouldn't be like that..."

His sentence trails off, and you know what his somber tone is implying. It's 41 days until his twenty-eighth birthday. What should be a day of celebration will most definitely be a day of mourning.

"There's still hope," you mumble, pulling him tighter to you. "The lawyers haven't given up yet. They're still working on getting you and everyone else an exemption."

"Yeah...you're right."

"Hold on, can you say that again? I didn't quite catch it."

Seokjin nips gently at your throat, earning a surprised giggle from you. "Watch it, Jagi."

After your laughter settles down, the peace of the evening returns along with the blissful quiet. It's not often that Seokjin is still or silent, but over the years, you both have found a rhythm that works for you. You have your obnoxious, loud, exciting times, and then there are the serene, still, hushed moments like these. Both are beautiful in their own way, but after a full day of work, this is exactly what you needed.

"I wish every day could be like today," you murmur, half to yourself.

Your brunet boyfriend moves slightly, resting his head on the pillow beside yours. He shifts you so you're curled up against his side, arms and legs tangled under the covers he pulls over you both. A yawn slips out, despite you trying to fight the signs of sleepiness. Your eyelids become droopy, and his fingers rubbing circles on your ribs doesn't help.

When a second yawn escapes, Seokjin chuckles and presses his lips to your forehead. "You can sleep, [Y/n]. I'll be here when you wake up."

Loving nothing more than to spend more time with him, you know he's right. It's been a long day, and you have another one ahead of you tomorrow. Instead of fighting him and slumber, you curl closer, pressing a brief kiss to his lips, then tuck yourself under his chin and wrap your arms around his small waist.

"Promise?"

As if to show you, Seokjin holds you tighter as he continues to run his fingers along your rib cage and spine.

"I promise."

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ksjsflower · 5 years

Text

16th of July - Jungkook X Reader

part 1

genre: humor, college!au, jungkook! fuckboy au, future smut and angst

words:idk dude

It was at times like this that you wondered whether the whole universe that we live in is just a tiny fraction of something way more powerful. Could it be destiny? If there even was such a thing, you were almost certain it had struck you when you had least expected it to. Thursday, 16th of July, 2016. The day you knew you would remember your whole life and all of your next lives.

The 16th of July 2016, Thursday. You were 19, just graduated from highschool, ready to start college. Oh, were you in for a ride. During your high school years, all you ever thought about was how fun college and moving in with your best friend, Nana, would be. Nana was actually more like a sister to you. You guys met way back when you were 5 at a playground. It was at the moment she stepped on your sand castle and started crying and apologizing you knew you two were gonna become friends.

However, moving in - not so fun actually. Both of you had a mess at home, and of course, your mothers were worried sick about you two 'becoming independent and growing up so fast'. The first day you two arrived at your dorm was chaotic. People were running aroung, bumping into each other like there's no tomorrow, everyone was all up in their business. Until.

'Dude, the guy with curly hair and a leather jacket by the lockers has been staring at you for about 2 minutes now.' Nana whispered to you while you were trying to balance your books for the classes you both got today.

'Uh, what? Where and who and why?' you crinkled your nose when a certainly heavy book pressed your pinky. 'I could use some help over here, stop looking around for boys, its the first day for fuck's sake..' you rolled your eyes.

'Alright, FIRST of all, - she was getting ready for another one of her rants - 'it's kinda hard not to notice when there's quiete a few people over here if you didnt already realize that, that his eyes out of all the people he can look at, only look at you. For t w o minutes. Even three now, cause' I just checked and he is still looking, only now he has a smirk on his face probably because your hair is a mess from holding 20 books and I am talking to you about him not so subtly cause now hes looking at me haha-''

You were so confused as to why she was rambling to you while looking behind you as if something was approaching. Nevertheless, you didnt think much of it. You just thought it was another one of Nana's silly actions, until you felt a hand on your shoulder the same moment Nana abruptly shut her mouth.

You slowly started turning around not expecting the smell that came from behind you to be strong cologne. You hated cologne, so it left you wondering for a second why you actually enjoyed inhaling this particular one.

But when you actually did turn around surprising yourself when you didnt drop any of the books you were holding, you were met with a face of a boy. A rather good looking boy. Man, probably the best looking boy you have seen in the last 10 years. When your pair of eyes met his doe like pair, you were left speechless. Thank God you werent the one who was going to start the talking because as soon as you opened your mouth you were cut off by his own voice.

'Are you guys new here? I saw you going around looking all confused and shit so if you need any help, you can ask me, I dont bite,' - he mused in a rather interesting tone,you couldnt decipher if he was being flirty or if his tone was usually sensual like that. - 'Yeah, I'm sure thats why you were looking,' Nana jumped in very awkwardly and as to prove her point, she added an unpleasant laugh at the end of her statement which made you want to face palm yourself right in front of his face.

'Yes, of course. Now why else would I be looking? I am a well mannered man.' He gave a smile so charming you were sure you would have flown to another dimension right then and there if it werent for all the books you were holding.

He must've noticed your lack of response which is why he took half of the books you were holding to himself. 'There you go.. saw you struggling for a little while. Also, I couldnt help but notice your little friend over her talking about me? Or am I possibly wrong?'

You finally spoke up and mentally congratuated yourself for not stuttering. 'Uh, yeaahh.. you're probably seeing things, we were just trying to find the right classes and stuff..'

'Seeing things? Damn, didnt have to word it like that, makes me feel undesirable,' he gave a breathy laugh while faking being hurt by putting his hands on his chest.

'Oh, I am sure that it does' you answered sarcastically. Cmon, this guy looked like sex on a stick. Feeling undesirable? Certainly not his case.

'See, you get me. I was not mistaken when I thought I felt a connection to you the moment I saw you across the hall,' he gave you a cheeky grin which left you rolling your eyes at the back of your head so hard you were sure they were gonna stay there.

'A connection? Please. And here I was thinking that this was a fuckboy free college.' You sighed dramatically which left Nana bringing her fist to her lips to stiffle her laughs.

He did look a bit taken aback by your response, but nevertheless managed to cover it up with a smirk in a span of 0.02 seconds. 'Arent you a fiery one, huh?' He smiled yet again in his seemingly natural flirty self.

'You havent seen anything yet.'

'Oh, so you're implying that we are going to have more talks in the future?' He smiled at you but his eyes were rather daring.

'You wish. Keep dreaming boy. Theres only one first impression and youve ruined it, so we aint talking any time soon.' - Nana once again let out a wheeze, only this time it was loud and you shut your eyes tightly wanting the ground to open and swallow you.

'Its alright, it doesnt have to be anytime soon, I can wait if its you who Im gonna talk to.' His comment left your cheeks tainted a light shade of pink, but you couldnt let your resolve crumble infront of him. Who did he think he was all confident trying to seduce you without even knowing your name?

'Nah, Im good. You didnt really understand what I meant. We aint talking anytime soon is supposed to mean that we are never talking after this again, kapeesh?' you were stating to get tired but you wanted to continue bickering with the unknown boy for some reason.

'Baby, dont underestimate me. Never is a strong word. - plus.. if we aint gonna talk thats okay we dont have to talk, we can always do other things.' he winked at you after throwing the innuendo right at your face. You scrunched your nose at the pet name but chose to ignore it.

'That was extremely pervy of you saying that to someone you have quiete literally just met. - you paused to flick your hair behind your shoulder. 'you should congratuate yourself, ive never started hating someone as soon as I did with you, you are the first one to accomplish that , you should feel proud, man.'

'I can be a lot of firsts to you, you know. I feel honored to be honest.' he announced proudly for some reason.

'Bold of you to assume you would be my first. Dont underestimate me, baby.' you threw back repeating his exact same words.

Nana was getting ready for the good part when suddenly you cut her fun short. 'Nana, lets go.' you grabbed your books from his hands harshly with one hand and pulled your best friend with the other free hand.

As you two were walking away you ignored Nana's whispers of protest when suddenly a voice was heard from behind you two.

'I'm Jungkook, by the way!' he yelled over a few people passing by.

You stayed quiet and opted for giving him the finger while he was still facing your back. Jungkook did not know why that action pulled the biggest toothy smile on his face, but was certainly glad you didnt get to see it.

'Well... at least he was cute?' Nana added while you two already walked away.

'Yeah. Cute.' you answered emphasizing both words as to let her know you thought he was everything except cute.

Well, college was going to be a lot of fun.

#jungkook jungkookbts #bts jungkook #bts scenarios #bts fluff #jungkookxreader #bts smut #bts angst #btsoneshots #oneshot #fanfiction #jeonjungkook

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phoenix-downer · 5 years

Text

Life in Pink

For SoKai Week Day 2 - The Perfect Date

Ever since he’d gotten back, each day spent with Sora was a new adventure.

“Can I take the blindfold off yet?” Kairi asked, tugging at at the bandana wrapped around her eyes. She had no idea where he’d taken her this time; all she knew was that they weren’t on Destiny Islands anymore. Riding in the Gummi Ship without being able to see anything had been a trip.

Sora gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Not yet. We’re almost there.”

Her eyesight impeded, she had to go off her senses of smell and hearing instead. The ground beneath them was smooth, and the autumn air would be a little nippy if it weren’t for the jacket she’d “borrowed” (more like stolen) from Sora. Every now and then she’d catch a conversation here or there – young kids, old couples, families. They must be in a town.

And oooh, what was that smell? Like rosemary and garlic and butter and—

“Okay, we’re here. You can take the blindfold off.”

She did, and the first thing she saw was Sora’s smiling face and outstretched arms. Behind them was a fancy-looking sign that said “Le Grand Bistrot.” The windows and doorway were lit up, full of warmth and light that spilled out onto the patio. Happy couples and families just about filled all the tables, taking advantage of the nice autumn weather.

“Oh, the bistro!” She knew where they were now. Twilight Town.

“You’ve been here before?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. Hayner, Pence, and Olette brought me here. The food’s great.”

He grinned at that. “Yeah.” Holding out his arm, he asked, “Shall we?”

She looped her arm through his as he led them inside, and a familiar face greeted them.

“Oh! Hey Sora, Kairi,” Hayner said, looking very official in his slacks and white button-down shirt. “I take it you’re here for your dinner reservation at seven?”

“Yup,” Sora answered, fiddling with his tie.

“You are good to go,” Hayner said as he crossed their name off the list. He nodded at Olette, and she smiled and grabbed two menus for them.

“Right this way, please,” she said. They went through the main dining room past all the busy tables and into a small room she hadn’t seen before. It was lit by candlelight, and there was a single table set for two. Kairi and Sora were written on fancy little cards in front of each of the chairs. A bouquet of daisies, asters, and forget-me-nots were in a vase in the center of the table, and the silverware was so elegant she almost hated to get it all messy by using it.

“Oh, Sora, this is beautiful,” she said softly.

Pence was waiting for them, a big grin on his face. “Welcome! Kairi, if I may?” he asked as he motioned towards Kairi’s jacket. She shrugged it off and handed it to him, and he took it and hung it up in the corner.

“Thanks, Pence, Olette, I’ll take it from here,” Sora said as he pulled Kairi’s chair out for her and she sat down and smoothed the skirt of her dress.

Pence gave them a thumbs up, and Olette set the menus down and grinned before closing the door behind them. “Enjoy!” she called with a wink.

Kairi turned to look at Sora as he took his suit jacket off and hung it up. “S-Sora?”

“I’ll be your chef and waiter tonight,” he said, giving her a shy smile as he donned an apron.

“You can cook?”

She plastered her hand over her mouth, not meaning her words to come out quite like that, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“Hard to believe, huh? But it’s true, I can cook now. Learned from the very best.”

Kairi wondered who he meant, but before she could ask, he moved to the far side of the room and pulled the curtains back. The windows were clear glass and opened up directly onto the pristine kitchen. She’d have a good view of him as he made their food.

He turned to her again. “All those times when we were kids, you cooked for me,“ he said as he rolled his sleeves up. “Let me return the favor for once.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks flushing. “Okay.”

He grinned and grabbed a remote from the little stand in the corner. A few moments later, and one of her favorite pieces of music started playing. The lyrics were simple enough, but they’d always resonated with her. Life in pink, life through rose-tinted glasses, was a lot better than life in blue. Than life without Sora.

He gestured to the menu. “What will you be having tonight, mademoiselle?”

She giggled as she opened it. “I didn’t know you could speak French, either.”

“Un peu,” he said. “Picked it up from a friend. I know enough to translate any of the dishes you might not know.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

She flipped through the menu, and sure enough, everything had elegant French names. All the dishes looked delicious, too. She wasn’t sure how she was going to decide on what to eat.

“You can really make everything on the menu?”

“Yup.”

“What would you recommend, then, monsieur?”

“Hmmm, let’s see,” he said as he leaned over her shoulder. “The Ratatouille’s really good. It’s got a bunch of veggies with bay leaf and thyme. So’s the Pumpkin Velouté. It’s a soup with pumpkin and truffles. The Beef Bourguignon is probably my favorite meat dish, and if you want fish, the Eel Matelote and Sea Bass en Papillote are both really good. And for dessert I’d have to recommend the Chocolate Mousse or the Berries au Fromage.”

Her stomach growled. “It all sounds delicious. How about you surprise me?”

“Okay,” he said as he scribbled a few things down. “What will you have to drink?”

“Just water, please. Maybe coffee with dessert.”

“Alright, I’ll get started on your meal for you,” he said.

She watched as he went into the kitchen and prepared their meals. Every now and then he’d glance at her with a grin on his face, especially after he’d pulled off a particularly impressive trick with the ingredients, but mostly he was focused intently on the cooking.

She rested her chin on her hands and sighed. For some reason he was even cuter than normal. Maybe it was the way he bit his lower lip, or how the tip of his tongue stuck out when he was really focused on something. Or maybe it was the fact that he was cooking her gourmet French food. Either way, she felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

When he emerged from the kitchen again, it was with their drinks and appetizers: two hot dishes of Ratatouille. Kairi’s eyes fluttered shut as she savored the tasty vegetables. It was like all the flavors were blending together in perfect harmony.

He wasn’t done though. Afterwards came the Beef Bourguignon, which was to die for. The red wine gave it just the right flavor, and everything down to the garnish was impeccable. It was a good thing all this food took so long to prepare, because it meant she’d actually have enough room in her stomach for it.

After that came the dessert, coffee and the Chocolate Mousse. He brought that out to her and set it before her, but the fruit garnish was missing. He knelt at her feet, his head about level with the table.

“Kairi? I want you to meet the chef who taught me how to cook. He’s the one who came up with all these recipes, and he helped me make our food tonight, too.”

Kairi peered into the kitchen. How—

“Not in there. Here.”

Her eyes snapped back to Sora, or more specifically, Sora’s head. Because perched on his head, peeking out from between his spikes, was a— was a—

She put one hand over her mouth and clutched her napkin with another. “Sora, there’s a— there’s a—”

“A rat on my head?” Sora said with a grin. “Yeah, I know.” He reached his hand up, and the little rat hopped on. It wore a small bowtie, and in its paws it held a ripe red strawberry. “This is Little Chef, and he wanted to put the finishing touches on your dessert for you tonight.”

He presented Little Chef to Kairi, and she looked into the little rat’s eyes. He was so cute. Holding that strawberry for her because he wanted to put the finishing touches on the mousse himself. How sweet. Sure, he was a rat, but his little paws looked clean, and so did his fur. Who was she to say he couldn’t be a chef? And if Sora said he was one, then she believed him. As far as she was concerned, Little Chef was the world’s tiniest chef, and a talented one to boot.

He gestured towards the mousse with the strawberry, and she smiled and nodded.

“Please. Thank you, Little Chef.”

She could have sworn the little rat smiled back as he carefully placed the strawberry on top of her mousse. He grabbed another strawberry from Sora’s hand and put it on Sora’s mousse, then Sora offered him a little plate with a rat-sized portion of dessert on it.

“Mind if he joins us?”

“Not at all.”

Little Chef was adorable as he ate, too, clutching his food in his paws as he nibbled at it. And the mousse tasted incredible, the perfect cap to a wonderful meal. Kairi leaned back and sighed as she sipped on her coffee. What a lovely date.

Sora wasn’t finished, however. After they’d had time to digest their food, he hung his apron up and offered his hand. The music was still floating through the air, and it was back to her favorite song.

“May I have this dance?” he said.

She smiled and took his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”

As they swayed back and forth in each other’s arms, Kairi sighed. What a lovely end to a lovely evening. Then it got even better as Sora softly sang the words of the song to her. Where he’d learned how to do that, she decided not to ask.

With him, life was always in pink. The wonderful date and delicious food were lovely, but they weren’t necessary.

As long as they were together, that was all she needed.

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

Back when I was doing the KH3 Countdown Challenge, I wrote a piece called Anyone Can Cook about Sora learning how to cook with Rémy. In it he mentioned wanting to cook for Kairi to surprise her, and I’ve been planning this followup for awhile now. Hope you enjoyed! The suggestion for Rémy to wear a bowtie is courtesy of @angel-with-a-pipette and this story is dedicated to her :)

The title is a reference to a famous French song - feel free to take a guess at what it is!

#sokai #sokaiweek #sokaiweek2019 #sora #kairi #remy #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix downer

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wackygoofball · 6 years

Photo

Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - Farming AU

Starting over is always hard, is what people keep telling them.

Jaime finds that those people may mean well but really miss the fuckin’ point.

Freshly returned war veterans Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth have more than a hard time settling back into their civilian lifestyles. War broke them in ways others don’t even begin to comprehend. And it is the incident that cost them both so much that actually put them so closely together that it feels as though they are the only people they can talk to about those matters.

Only between them does this world even make sense these days.

Jaime lost his hand on the last op after they were taken hostage by a band of rogue deserters. They wanted to rape Brienne, and Jaime couldn’t let that happen. In turn, they took his hand for speaking up. And while Jaime does not, by any means, regret that choice, it makes living a normal life ever the more complicated.

Even opening a bloody can is suddenly an issue.

And then the family is another bucket full of rotten apples. Especially Father is giving him headache after headache because he actually sees Jaime’s disability as a kind of fortune meant to finally drive him into the lifestyle Tywin Lannister wanted for his son all along – running the family business in his stead, becoming his true heir at last instead of continuing his “folly” of pursuing a military career.

Brienne isn’t faring much better. She thought that she would do better, returning to her home island at least for a while to gather herself, but after a week, she had to bid her worried father goodbye and relocate to King’s Landing. She found a job rather fast, but it doesn’t really give her joy. She mostly does it so that she can at least tell herself that she is doing something “normal,” even though she never has been and won’t ever be normal. Not just for matters of her looks or hobbies, but because apparently, she can’t seem to find her way back into life after returning from the war.

Things take a sudden turn when Jaime has a fallout with his father over the family business which he has no intention of continuing to Tywin’s conditions, which results in the oldest son to quit entirely, not just the job but also the family.

“I am done.”

Tywin threatens with disinheriting him if he does not comply, and Jaime just flips him the bird, or rather, stump, and is out the door.

It almost seems to good to be true when he gets home, fuming, weighing his limited options now, and finds a letter in his mailbox that tells him that a distant uncle bequeathed him with his farm on the far outskirt of King’s Landing.

“Seems like I will be a farmer, I guess,” he decides more on a whim than anything else.

But really, what does he have to lose?

And what could possibly go wrong?

He already lost a hand, so what’s the worst that could happen, right?

It isn’t until long that Brienne gets to hear about Jaime’s fantastic plan during the next meeting, a regular thing they established which they refer to as “therapy for therapy” whereby both lament about their shrinks. To say that she is shocked is an understatement. In fact, it takes Brienne almost five minutes to understand that he is serious about this.

“So… you really want to do this. And you think this is not at all related to you having lost your wits?”

“I think I finally gathered some of them, not thanks to Mr. Smarttalk aka the Shrink of Heart. I think it was a wink of fate that I was given that farm the same day I finally stuck it to Father.”

“You don’t believe in destiny, though, remember?”

“Maybe I should start.”

“Well, if you want to go soul-searching, then I suppose the least I can do is give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to.”

“And yet I will. I mean, I guess you will get yourself killed by walking into a broken house and just be crushed by the rubble, but for as long as I can help it, you are not dying on my watch, Lannister.”

“One can always rely on you, Tarth.”

“And now I need another beer.”

“Make it two.”

And so, Brienne stands true to her promise and drives Jaime to the farm the next weekend, reckoning that Jaime will soon lose interest and realize that this is not really the kind of thing Jaime Lannister, a man born with more than one golden spoon in his mouth, wants to do for the rest of his life.

Her predictions are proven wrong soon enough, though, when Jaime announces after a quick look-around the run-down farm.

“I love it.”

Brienne still hopes the guy is joking, but Jaime is in absolute awe and already starts to mentally pick out curtains for the living room while she just looks at all the work she knows will be ahead of him, should he actually consider following through with this renovation job.

However, she doesn’t have the heart to really tell him no. Ever since the incident that cost Jaime his hand, she felt extremely guilty and indebted to him, which is why she tries to be supportive of Jaime, even when she thinks he is being ridiculous. Brienne fears that he is just trying to get away from society, start skipping therapy sessions, and go down a dark road again as he did after he was maimed – Jaime wanted to die and took Brienne a lot of talking to get him out of that mood again. Now she fears he may go back into that mode if she does not watch out for him.

Thus, the young woman offers “a truce” to ensure that Jaime does not slip up on the therapy while working the farm: She will help him with the farm during her free time, free of charge, in exchange for him sticking to his shrink. Jaime only ever agrees under the condition that she do the same, and so, the cooperation is born.

During the week, Brienne works her “normal” job while Jaime busies himself around the farm, knowing basically nothing about it, and on the weekends, she travels to see Jaime and help him do the things she knows how to do thanks to having grown up on farms and having good knowledge of mechanics thanks to her studies at college.

However, things don’t go smoothly at all. Jaime doesn’t just tread unknown, murky waters, he does so with just a hand and all by himself, safe for the weekends. Couple that with Lannister-innate stubbornness and you got yourself some trouble ahead. His fruit rot away, the tractor is a goner, the house is a ruin where the bats are having a jolly time, and he feels like giving up more often than not.

But then Brienne winds up during the weekends and he feels like he has to prove it to her, so giving up is no option whatsoever. While he would rather not ask her for too many favors, after all, he doesn’t want Brienne to overexert herself, there is no preventing her from it.

And Brienne, for her part, actually starts to like this sense of a purpose when she feels like she is doing only meaningless work in her “normal” job.

Renovating the house is one of the first things on his list because Jaime does not fancy only ever having a mattress and a sleeping bag in the living room to offer to Brienne when she stays over. That should be reserved for the battlefield, really. And he does find that fixing up the house has its merits. He can take his time and apparently, he is better at it than he first thought. Eventually, the house starts to gain shape and Jaime presents to Brienne her own guest room, all nicely done in the color most fitting for her – blue. Brienne is impressed and visibly touched by the gesture.

Brienne finds herself increasingly at unease whenever she is not on the farm, because she just can’t seem to find her way back to “normal.” She is back, she is safe, thanks to Jaime. She didn’t suffer a trauma nearly as severe as he did, and yet Brienne feels like falling apart and jumps at copying machines making cranky noises when she should long since know better.

A particular situation at the office triggers her and thus sends Brienne right back into the war zone, her therapist suggests to her to take a “holiday,” something that only ever hurts the young woman’s pride. She doesn’t need that. She has to get going again. And Brienne finds it so unfair that Jaime seems to be doing fine while she is like this. And now she is supposed to travel around to work through her traumas? No, that can’t be the solution.

Even more so because Brienne can’t find it in herself to leave Jaime.

Totally exasperated by her psychologist’s suggestion, she heads to the farm to tell Jaime about the “great” plan. Brienne is shocked when he tells her that the lady may have a point – and that perhaps she should take a break. Brienne insists that she doesn’t want to go anywhere.

In the end, the two come to agree on a new truce, which is that she takes holidays here until she has herself figured out. Brienne agrees begrudgingly, but it doesn’t take her long to realize how much she actually loves this farm she helped build on the weekends.

Though the farm is perhaps not the only thing she fell for…

As the two continue to put the farm back together, they find ways to patch themselves and one another back up, and at last it seems that they can find a new odd kind of normal, a way into civilian life to their own conditions, together.

However, misfortune is just around the corner thanks to family troubles and the danger of losing the farm, and perhaps even more than that, namely each other.

Additional Image Source: http://gwendoline-christie.com/

#jaime x brienne #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #moodboard #aesthetic #got moodboard #got aesthetic #game of thrones #wacky tries gimp #fanfiction #fanfic #ficlet #wacky writes fanfic #in smol

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capnjay21 · 7 years

Text

the importance of being idle, 12/12

A/N: aloha! I posted this on AO3 a little while ago, but it has yet to make it onto tumblr. I wanted to say thank you so much to everybody who stuck along for the ride, it wouldn’t have been anymore than a oneshot without you! I’ll ramble a little more at the end, but here it is.

Rating: M

Catch up on: AO3 | tumblr

the importance of being idle get-out-of-my-apartment-(no-really-get-out)-you’re-hot-but-I-got-shit-to-do rock ‘n roll AU. Captain Swan.

Neither the fragrant dispensable hand soap, the superior quality of microwavable goods nor the silent as smoke bathroom door could make living in the Blackbeard’s Revenge tour bus a salvageable experience.

Admittedly, she’d only been there for just over twenty-four hours.

But it still fucking sucked.

After watching the Jolly Rogers drive away, she’d had little else to do except move her camera equipment and her small suitcase onto the other bus. Of course, the only free bunk happened to be right next to Blackbeard’s, but at least she wasn’t ousting any back-line equipment. If she was going to be here for the next month and a half, she would keep her head down and stay out of trouble, collect her money and go.

And try not to think too hard about the band that had driven away.

She spent the entire day in her bunk, alternating between attempting to read and adjusting settings needlessly on her camera, ignoring any offhand remarks sent her way. Blackbeard’s Revenge clearly had their own rhythm, the radio flipped onto some postseason baseball game while they alternated between relaxing and trying to coax a rise out of Emma. There were only so many ‘and how goes our forlorn freelancer, darling?’ she could take before she took a leaf out of Tina and Killian’s book and socked one of them in the jaw, but their every jibe strengthened her resolve. The only small mercy she could think of was the lack of Neal, since he had his own car he’d been using for that leg of the tour.

Eventually, the men dozed off and Emma was left in peace, scrolling idly through her phone. She didn’t text Killian. Her immediate instinct was to wait and see if he texted her first, but remembered too late that they never actually got to a point where they’d exchanged numbers — she only had his because of the note he’d left in her apartment that very first night. Along with his shirt.

(The shirt she had, in a moment of weakness, decided to throw on.

She’d brought it on the tour under the pretext of giving it back to him, and it had sat at the bottom of her suitcase until she could find the right moment — which now, of course, had obviously passed her by. It felt oddly symbolic of her entire relationship with Killian, to her chagrin.)

August had messaged her a string of salsa dancing women emojis, assuring her she’d pull through the other side. In response, she’d merely sent him a tired looking selfie with the book she’d secretly swiped from his bunk; Pinocchio. His reply was scandalised.

I knew there was a reason you said no to my fairytales. ‘Finding your own destiny’ my ass.

<b>that’s not v gentlemanly </b>

They’d bantered for a few minutes before she let the phone lie, a dull ache settling in the centre of her chest. She missed him. She missed all of them.

And before she let the rattling of the bus on the highway lull her into an afternoon nap, she couldn’t stop feeling the phantom scratch of stubble against her temple as a kiss was laid there, a murmur of sweet dreams, Emma, carrying her away.

***

BR had managed to recruit some local band last minute to open for them that night in New York, a city where no shortage of musicians lurked waiting for a chance like that to come along. They’d been okay, the style leaning a little too far into pop-punk for Emma’s liking, but dutifully she took photos and acted much the same as she had on every other night. It was a job, now. Nothing more. Take photos, go to bed. No lingering backstage, no welcome distractions, no banter as the venue was set up — all she cared about was her finger over the shutter release and the thought of getting back to her bunk, Killian’s shirt folded neatly underneath her pillow.

She’d gone back to the bus immediately after the gig. Even with that vestige of him surrounding her, it had been a restless night’s sleep.

They were performing just one more show in New York, and the next morning Emma couldn’t help but let her thoughts stray to the fact that it would be the last time she worked with Neal. If it weren’t for the fact that it left her alone with Blackbeard’s Revenge she would’ve been more relieved, but as it stood Neal was both a buffer and an inconvenience. They both knew it in their unspoken, mutual agreement; this would be the last time they saw each other. There was no use prolonging their association — the past was firmly in the past, Emma had closure. She didn’t know what Neal had, but it sure as fuck wasn’t anything that concerned her, and there was something decidedly liberating about finally setting fire to that chapter of her life, and letting it go up in smoke.

While most of her freedom to decide had been taken from her over the past day, it felt good to still be able to make some choices.

As the hours ticked by into the early afternoon, Emma was flicking through the photos she’d already taken from the last month or so, Blackbeard and Isaac playing cards in the seating area, with Pan listening to music as he lay back in his bunk. Jefferson had disappeared a few hours ago. It was a bitch to get into the city from the parking lot they’d been assigned near Newark, but the bassist seemed to be the only one interested in giving it a try. Emma couldn’t bring herself to give it a go, and it was highly likely the other three had already been before. The precarious peace, however, didn’t last long.

The door at the back of the bus swung open, sunlight beaming through and making Emma blink against the sudden brightness. Assuming it would be Jefferson returning, Emma didn’t spare it a glance — he was easily the most tolerable of the lot of them, but that didn’t make him any less complicit in the reason she was there.

“Ah,” Blackbeard greeted loudly, and Emma reached for her headphones. The least she could do was drown him out. “Jones. You’re late.”

Her head shot up so fast her neck cracked.

To her utter disbelief, Killian Jones stood silhouetted in the doorframe.

It took mere milliseconds for his eyes to find hers, a vivid blue like the glow of a lighthouse scattered on the waves. Although rationally she knew it had scarcely been a day and a half, it felt like far too long since she’d seen him, and she wrenched her gaze away to try and take in the rest of him — somewhat dishevelled in appearance and, if she wasn’t mistaken, wearing the same rumpled clothes as the day before. With his raven hair sticking up at odd angles on the back of his head, he looked as if he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

“Apologies,” Killian was saying to Blackbeard, “this place isn’t exactly convenient to reach.” Blackbeard waved a dismissive hand, before turning back to his game.

Before Emma could even fire off a query about why he was there, Killian cut her off.

“Pack your stuff, Swan,” he said, “we’re going.”

She didn’t move.

“What’re you doing here?”

Killian let out an exaggerated huff. “What does it look like? I’m attempting a dashing rescue.”

“And they say romance is dead,” Isaac hummed in amusement from his spot on the sofa opposite Blackbeard. Emma ignored him.

She didn’t get why everyone was being so goddamn calm.

As if sensing her hesitation, Blackbeard quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “You’re welcome to stay, Miss Swan, if you so desire.” The look he gave her could be described as leery at best. “But he has come all this way, and even I don’t advocate for that sort of cruelty.”

“Time is rather of the essence, love. Cab’s out front.”

Killian was watching her earnestly, and she followed the movement of his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips. He was nervous, by now she could read his posture like a map, and something about it suggested to her that his sense of urgency had little to do with a taxi fare.

What the hell was going on?

Cautiously, she reached for her bag, gaze darting between the man in the doorway and those sprawled on the sofas. “You’re saying I’m allowed to just walk out of here?”

Blackbeard spread his hands. “Of course.”

“No invoices in the post?”

“Not even for your pilfering of my vastly expensive soap.”

Emma wasn’t about to wait around for them to change their minds.

She gathered her stuff as quickly as she could, shoving any loose items around the bunk back into her suitcase before carefully disassembling her camera and safely packing away all of the components. After she descended the ladder and made a quick check of the sheets for anything she hadn’t seen, she threw one last look over her shoulder at the three members of Blackbeard’s Revenge. Malcolm was still lying on his bed, eyes closed with his headphones on, not having even acknowledged the turn of events. Isaac and Charles’ attentions had returned to their game.

Emma opened her mouth to try and check one final time that she was in the clear.

“Call,” Charles said mildly, “you really do have the worst luck, Heller.”

“I’m sure my luck will improve once you stop using those two extra aces.”

They weren’t even the slightest bit interested, and she owed them nothing. So, after throwing them the proverbial middle finger, she merely stepped out of the bus and into the early afternoon sun. Killian’s hand was at the small of her back, guiding her to the entrance of the parking lot where two cabs were already waiting. From their brief distance, she could see August, Robin and Smee in one, Tina in the other, with piles of their equipment stuffed in between.

“Killian —?” she started.

“Sorry to press you, love,” he smiled widely at her, before throwing a furtive look back at the bus, “I’m merely eager not to tempt fate.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“You’re going home,” he said firmly, and the heat from his hand just erred on the side of scorching through her sweater. “That’s all that matters.”

“But how —?”

They’d reached the taxis, and all too suddenly the door had swung open to the first and she realised there was an empty seat beside August. Killian brushed a hand over her hip just briefly before he retreated to the other, dropping into the backseat beside Tina. Emma, entirely baffled but not too fond of questioning her good fortune just yet, saw she had no other choice but to buckle in. When she entered the cab it was to a few scattered cheers and August squeezing her hand affectionately.

She may have no goddamn clue what was happening, but it felt good to be back.

***

The Jolly Rogers were going to get signed.

The moment the door to the cab had shut, August, Smee and Robin were practically tripping over each other in order to relay the good news, an energy thrumming through them that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before. Apparently, they’d had some incredibly busy twenty-four hours.

From Jefferson’s mansion in Connecticut, it had taken around eight hours of straight driving to get them back to Storybrooke, Merida testing the speed limit at any moment she could — it was a race against time, they’d decided, to see if they could make something of the exposure from the national tour before the news that Blackbeard’s Revenge had dropped them hit the press. There was no telling just how Gold Records would spin the news, and just how much of an effect it might have on any potential labels interested in signing them.

As it turned out, somebody had been waiting for them. Eric Triton had never been the bitter sort, he had confessed to them, but if his time with Blackbeard’s Revenge had taught him anything it was that he far favoured the reward that came with nurturing a band who actually cared about music to playing whatever it took to top the charts. After his departure from Blackbeard and company he had turned his attention to producing, eventually partnering up with the Poseidon Music Group after a providential meeting with the CEO’s daughter on a beach, and had made it his business to constantly be scouting for new talent ever since.

Apparently he had attended their gig at Warehouse 4, the one Emma herself had skipped what felt like a hundred years ago, and he was one of the calls that had Smee’s phone vibrating for days afterwards. You could imagine his exasperation when Blackbeard’s Revenge got to them first.

It was why, he’d told them, he almost felt glad that they’d been dropped from the tour — it gave him a second shot. The moment one of his contacts had alerted him to the disagreement at Jefferson’s mansion he had started camping as near as he dared to the town line, predicting correctly that they would be racing back to Storybrooke as soon as possible. He accosted them as they stormed into town, and the next thing they knew they had an invitation to play before Poseidon himself next week. Which was only a formality, of course. The deal was as good as done.

“Have you guys slept at all?” Emma gaped, and the dark rings around their eyes spoke volumes.

All three of them were giddy, exhausted but exhilarated, and constantly iterating just how glad they were that she was able to share in their good news, but not one of them would say a second word on just how they managed to wrangle her out from Blackbeard’s grasp, insisting that it wasn’t their story to tell. Emma had an inkling of just whose it was, but her curiosity only compounded the longer she sat sandwiched between August and the door of the cab.

It was a couple hundred bucks for the fare, something she insisted on covering once her cheque from Blackbeard’s Revenge came through, but mercifully they wouldn’t be paying for all the way back to Maine. The taxis dropped them off in New Haven, at a trucker stop they'd agreed to meet Merida and her coach at. The driver was offering the trip pro bono out of something she denied was affection, but it did mean they had to work around her schedule — hence why they were cramming most of their equipment between them in the taxis.

“We don’t have anywhere to live,” Robin had pointed out, “and we didn’t have time to find a motel. We haven’t stopped moving since we left you!”

It was here that Emma was finally able to approach Killian. While the others milled around outside, perched atop amps and keeping an eye on the flow of traffic for Merida’s coach in the early evening, Emma watched him slip away and head into a diner, not wholly unlike the one they were abandoned at all those weeks before.

A fluorescent green light blinked in and out of life overhead, and a buzzer went off somewhere behind the counter as she entered — loud enough to draw Killian’s gaze instinctively. He had just finished buying sustenance by the look of it, and once his eyes landed on her a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He held out a paper bag towards her.

“Onion ring?”

Emma took one of the proffered items. “I thought you hated onion rings.”

“You don’t,” he pointed out.

For a moment they chewed in silence, her on an onion ring and he on what looked like a carrot stick, before wordlessly moving back outside. Behind them, the neon light from inside the diner shimmered, casting fluorescent shadows against the crunch of gravel underfoot. From twenty or so feet away Emma watched August stand, take ten paces in one direction, then turn and walk back. Everybody was waiting for something, some new start. Anticipation tickled through the air.

“I heard about your record deal,” she found herself saying, “congratulations.” Although a little stilted in its delivery, the sentiment was earnest. She was still wrapping her head around things but she couldn’t be more proud of the Jolly Rogers.

“Well, nothing’s set in stone yet,” Killian demurred, but she could see the pleased flush working its way up from his collar. “We were just lucky to come across the one person in the industry who might hate Blackbeard more than we do.”

Lord knew Eric had every reason, if what Emma had heard was true.

“Still, it’s exciting.”

“It is,” he agreed.

A few pregnant seconds passed, and Emma waited for him to volunteer the information he must know she was eager to find out — just how the hell she was there, and not back in a tiny bunk on Blackbeard’s bus resigned to another evening of ignoring their jibes as best she could.

“Killian…” she began.

“Carrot stick?”

Emma waved the bag away, along with his futile attempt to divert attention. “How is it that I just walked out of there?”

Killian shrugged, making every effort to appear nonchalant. He almost succeeded. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” she insisted. His and the others’ reluctance to discuss it only had her anxiety climbing higher and higher, wondering just what stipulations Blackbeard had latched onto her release. “If you’ve traded your soul to Hades for me then I want to know about it so I can —”

Thank you? Knock the living daylights out of you?

“—make it right.”

The corner of Killian’s mouth quirked upwards, the static light of the diner casting his eyes in an electric blue. Alive, aware. Watching her as closely as he always had. “You’d climb down to hell for me, would you, Swan?”

“If I had to,” she replied neutrally. A fierce truth rang with every word.

“Well, you needn’t worry,” Killian continued brazenly. He finished his final carrot stick as she waited for a response, crumpling up the packet in his palm and letting it drop into the trash can beside them. “My soul is safe and sound. We merely offered to cover the cost of your termination fee and Blackbeard was amenable.”

The declaration caught her off guard; the termination fee was five thousand dollars, that had been non-negotiable. If the Jolly Rogers had that sort of money lying around they would have already offered to foot the bill — she may not have known them long, but she knew that much. They were great people who cared about her wellbeing, and she couldn’t imagine August at the very least permitting the act of driving away from her if they had the means to release her. It was why she spoke her next words with a cautious, amused confidence.

“You guys couldn’t string enough cents for a cardboard box, no less five thousand dollars.”

“That’s the thing about commerce, darling. Money is easy enough to acquire if you have something of value to trade for it.”

He had his guitar, of that she was certain — by the edge of the curb she could see Robin leaning against the familiar case. Killian was avoiding looking at her, reaching a finger behind to scratch at the shell of his ear. Emma’s heart steadily began to beat a rhythm against her ribcage. To her spinning mind, it sounded a lot like Lavender Rose.

“And what was that?”

“Why the Jolly Roger, of course.”

For a moment Emma blinked, lips parted, not entirely sure what he was referring to. For a petrifying fraction of a second she imagined Blackbeard had insisted the band break up for her to be let go, but belatedly shook the thought when she remembered Eric Triton and the record deal that supposedly awaited them in Storybrooke.

His gaze dropped and she followed it, before suddenly realising the silver chain she could usually see peeking through the collar of his shirt had vanished.

This, here, is the Jolly Roger.

His watch.

Killian was still speaking, but her eyes were fixed on the absence of the accessory.

“Did I forget to mention the casing was overlain with sterling silver? An ivory clock face, seventeen jewels — and all natural sapphires, not synthetic, mind. Fetches about eight thousand dollars at retail. One of only fifty novelty Peter Pan watches made in 1955, I believe.”

Emma didn’t care about that, not about sapphires or rubies or silver.

He’d said, he’d told her; that watch was the last thing he owned of his father’s.

“Cruella Feinberg gave me a fair price back in Storybrooke when I went to her. I could’ve probably gotten more if I hadn’t rushed it, but I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to track the BR bus after New York.”

He seemed to notice that she hadn’t so much as murmured a response, and squeaked out the remainder of his explanation. “I, ehm… I was in something of a rush.”

Emma couldn’t wrap her mind around it. This sodding impossible man had found time in between trying to negotiate a deal that would decide the future of his entire career to trade away his most valuable possession, for a girl who had barely been able to tell him that she liked the song he wrote. For her. She was stunned. Fucking mortified. Beyond moved.

Despite your best efforts, Swan, I was utterly charmed by you.

Thank you, she had said, when he’d first shown her the watch. Somehow it didn’t feel like enough now.

She became more aware of the way he was angled towards her, hanging on her every breath. Fuck, she had to say something. She had to say something.

“You sold your watch for me?”

She thought he might turn away, cower from everything she was asking of him — that after all that, she needed to be sure. She needed to hear it, just one more time. She wanted the beat of Lavender Rose thumping through her, the scent of rusted strings on his shirt. He’d already done so much, but she couldn’t let him get away without saying it, not with her heels slammed into the earth the way they were.

Tell me, she begged.

Killian’s vibrant blue gaze met her head on, like he knew — he probably did.

“Aye,” he said.

Emma wasn’t sure which of them moved first — she thought it was her, she hoped it was her — but after several long seconds her hands wound their way around his shoulders and he was dipping his head to meet her. When their lips connected, she sighed; at once familiar, she knew these lips by now. She knew the way he kissed, as he undoubtedly knew hers, she knew the way his hand would curl at her waist to scratch against the leather of her jacket. She knew the way his mouth would part, the way he would breathe unevenly through his nose against the skin of her cheek to avoid breaking away.

She knew his heart.

He would let her pull away, if she wanted to. After everything he would let her let him go.

Not that she would.

Killian’s right hand rose to brush reverently against her cheek and at once they parted. A flicker of what she knew to be trepidation flashed in his eyes, and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Something inside of her crumpled, and it felt like only really then that she understood just how many times she had let him down. Knowingly and unknowingly both.

I’m sorry, she wanted to say.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she said instead.

Killian’s shoulders lifted in the barest shrug, his finger tracing a line behind her ear to wind its way around her hair.

“I’m done dwelling on the past.”

To his evident delight Emma tugged him back down to her, this time for longer than before. It was only when they broke apart to the whoops and crows of three other, equally delighted, people, that she realised just how not-alone she and Killian were. The other three Jolly Rogers watched from their spot at the side of the road with matching shit-eating grins.

Emma raised an eyebrow at Killian, whose arm had moved around to tuck her closer into his side. “I’ll never be able to get ten minutes alone with you, will I?”

“I could do with a break.” At Emma’s look of disbelief, he shrugged. “What did I say about refraining from kissing me after you’ve had onion rings? I can barely stomach you.”

Merida’s bus pulled into the parking lot to the chorus of Killian’s yelp, with Emma leaving him clutching at his side as she walked back over to the others.

***

"Swan?"

The hoarse whisper hovered just over the low rumbling of the bus, barely loud enough to rouse anybody from sleep —but then, Emma hadn't been sleeping. She had a feeling Killian hadn't been either.

When his face popped up over the edge of her bunk, eyes bright in the dim light, it all but confirmed it. He looked abut as wired as she felt, and she met his gaze warmly. He beamed.

"Mind if I —?" The guitarist gestured to the slim line of space between her and the railing at the edge of the bed, and in response Emma shuffled away to allow him a little more room. As quietly as he could, Killian hauled himself up the ladder and slid in beside her. "Christ," he muttered," these beds weren't made for two — ow." He knocked his head on the tip of the ladder and scowled, while Emma stifled a laugh.

A glance at her watch informed her it was nearly two in the morning. It also made her stomach twist both pleasantly and anxiously all over again when she thought about watches. The accessory had played crucial roles in some of the worst and best moments of her life now.

Killian, meanwhile, had righted himself as best he could, slinging his right arm over her hip and tugging her closer. Emma did not resist, and even nudged her leg between his.

"Hello," Killian murmured, just before their lips met gently.

Emma smoothed her hand up his chest, stopping once it reached the curve of his shoulder. "I'm sorry you sold the watch." She wanted to be a little more articulate than she had been when he'd first told her — it was important to her that he knew that.

"I'm not," Killian replied with the barest shrug. At Emma's disbelieving look he carried on, rubbing a hand down her back. "Honestly, Emma. It was just a piece of jewellery."

"You said it was the last thing you had left of your father."

For a moment he was silent, eyes dropping down to her fingers tracing patterns into the front of his shirt. "My father was not always a decent man," he said finally, although it was clear the words had been difficult for him to get out. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see it go to a deserving cause." Before she could reply he hastened to continue, murmuring her name to cut her off.

As she watched him expectantly, he breathed out an uncertain laugh. "I, erm… forgive me, I have to know. You're not going to get off this bus and change your mind, are you?"

His hand had frozen on her lower back, almost frightful of her response. With his mouth twisted in a wince and his body tensing, he appeared so much like somebody bracing for an impact that she laughed and knocked her forehead into his chest.

She could feel his smile into the crown of her head, but he worked on putting some space between them all the same. "I'm serious," he said, although the mirth in his eyes somewhat belied it, "I'm not sure I could make it through another of your unpredictable tides."

After a moment the laughter subsided, she let herself watch him, truly take him in a way she hadn't done for some time. His eyes appeared a deep navy in the low light, his left eyebrow raised in that barest approximation of hope she had come to see there, lips parted just so like he was waiting for her permission to breathe. Emma touched a hand to his cheek and his eyelids fluttered shut, leaning into the movement. He would let her back away, even now. Even with her in his arms he was offering her that one final chance, and she felt affection surge for him all the more because of it.

"I'm not changing my mind," she promised.

Killian's eyes flew open, watching her carefully.

"I want to see where this thing goes. I'm not saying I'm not terrified, because I am." Like standing at the edge of this unknown precipice, a jump she'd come so close to so many times before with this man — but now she was ready. "I'm petrified."

"I can feel you shaking," he hummed quietly, pressing a kiss to where her neck met her shoulders. "Trust me."

"I do," she murmured. "I want this future with you, and that's what scares me. Does that," she paused, pulling his face back up to meet her eyes, "does that sound crazy?"

Killian shook his head, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, which quickly morphed into something more confident.

"It sounds like music to this pirate's ears."

Emma laughed, a loud, happy thing, and Killian did his best to hush her by drawing her into a kiss. For a few moments they just lay there, chuckling silently and trading affection, the slant of his lips against her own a welcome feeling. It was just as she felt his hand sliding lower across her back, sending a shot of excitement through as his eyes met hers, his intent clear, that she remembered exactly where they were.

And that they weren't entirely alone.

"Guys, that was adorable, but I swear to God if you have sex on this bus I will never forgive you."

Tina's voice pierced the silence like bursting a balloon — Killian instinctively shot back from Emma, which only led to him smacking his head onto the railing behind him at the edge of the bunk. Emma immediately snorted with laughter, which only increased as he rubbed the back of his head and sent a reproachful look in her direction.

"We'll turn you into Merida."

Robin's voice, too, floated down from further up the bus. Emma was grateful for the dark as she felt her face begin to heat up — it was hard enough laying herself bare in front of Killian, let alone his three best friends. Because she was certain, as much as she could be, that August would also be awake. The damn guy didn't miss a thing.

Tina made a noise of agreement. "Merida specifically said she wouldn't tolerate any funny business."

"Yet somehow," Killian bit back, "she tolerates you lot just fine." After a moment he clearly has no interest in ending, he reluctantly sat up on her bunk and shuffled back towards the ladder. Emma's hand on his leg served as her only protest, and Killian lifted it to place a kiss on the back of it. "I guess I'll have to wait to finally show you a good time, Swan," he winked, "and have you remember it."

Bizarrely, she found herself thinking of one of the post-its he had given her in Storybrooke so long ago. She'd very much like to know how it felt to hear him scream.

"I guess you will," she replied, making her intent clear.

She could tell Killian just resisted letting out a low whistle, before dropping down the ladder.

"Much better," Robin assured them. "No 'good times' should be had on the bus. Only terrible, not good times."

"August, stop reading," Tina urged, "I know you're doing it. Nobody can have fun on the bus!"

A barely distinguishable rustle came across from August's bunk. "Don't bring me into this."

As the teasing escalated into a sock skirmish (thus determined, claimed Robin, by August's tendency to use socks as missiles when disturbed) Emma forgot about her embarrassment. They were good at that, the Jolly Rogers. Helping her forget. Making her feel comfortable even when the only place she had ever felt safe was a hundred miles away. They had driven for hours through the night so that they could get to her, had defended her even when her opponent had been one of their closest friends, had cared for her. Without strings. Unashamedly. Wholly.

Mary Margaret would always be her sister, or as close to a sister as Emma would ever get. But these guys?

They were her family. The one she had chosen for herself.

And the one she would continue to choose, every fucking chance she got.

***

"You ready?" She had asked, a week later, as Killian wiped his palm on the edge of his jeans. To try and get rid of the sweat, she knew, it was practically rolling off of him in waves.

"As we'll ever be."

Emma squinted through the viewfinder on her camera, using Tina fiddling with the height of the microphone as her focus point. Beside her, Killian shifted his weight from one foot to the other, anxiety driving from him. At the other end of the room, Poseidon himself, his executive assistant and Eric Triton were just settling themselves into three large chairs. With their high backs and elaborate deorations around the arms, thrones was the first word that popped into Emma's head when she'd seen them. Imposing, powerful. Intimidating as hell.

Part of the reason Killian was reminding himself to breathe in and out.

"You heard what Eric said," she assured him, "this is just a formality. It's practically a done deal."

Killian looked at her sharply. "Not if he doesn't like us."

"He will."

The activity in the room was slowly beginning to wind down, each party slowly running out of ways to delay the inevitable. Emma gave him a gentle shove.

"Now get lost so I can take some decent photos, yeah?"

This time when Killian smiled down at her, she could tell he meant it. It was one of those goofy, wide smiles she had found he couldn't keep back when she was around. It had a somewhat irritating habit of making her stomach drop pleasantly. He smoothed a hand down her back.

"Such glowing words of encouragement," he mused, leaning to brush his lips against hers.

"Why bother?" she smirked once he pulled away. "It's not like my lack of encouragement ever held you back."

In response he patted his hand against her, and gave her one last amused glance over his shoulder before heading over to the others. His strat, perched primly against the wall, was soon lifted and slung over his shoulder, as he exchanged a few quiet words with Tina and August. Robin was settling himself down onto the stool behind his kit, and Tina then hummed a few quiet tests into the microphone.

Emma, meanwhile, took a few preparatory shots. After deciding the look Killian had sent her was altogether too deliberate, she stretched her arm behind her back — true enough, her fingers grazed something stuck there. Tugging it free, she realised it was a post-it. Some things never changed.

Wish me luck.

—K x.

When their eyes met again, she shook her head with a smile. He didn't need luck.

Soon enough, the low murmur of noise in the room slowly sunk into silence, Eric no longer murmuring into Poseidon's ear and the huge man instead surveying the group of musicians in front of him. Despite herself, Emma felt her pulse begin to thump a little bit quicker, glancing between the two sides of the room.

The twang of August's bass lurched from one of the amps, before fizzling out into nothing as he rushed to still the string.

Poseidon shifted in his seat. Emma's finger hovered over the shutter button. Killian cleared his throat.

Robin lifted his drumsticks to eye-level, pausing before clacking them together —

One, two —

Three, four —

The shutter clicked. The room exploded with sound.

And that was it.

And that’s it, folks! An epilogue will follow sometime in the near future because there are a few loose ends I’d like to tie up and I will always love my jolly rogers. almost as much as I love all of you! thank you so so much for your endless support + patience with my gaps between updates, I’ve loved being able to tell this story in the way I always wanted to.I hope you all liked how it ended, and maybe I’ll see you next time on another project!

peace & love / over & out!

-jay x

#jay writes #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs crew #ouat #emma swan #killian jones #cs au #the importance of being idle #complete #here is the finale!#I really hope you guys like it #it's been quite the ride #so for the final time #enjoy!

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thekpopkave · 4 years

Text

I Still Hate to Love You (Chapter 1)

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕦𝕤 :: byun baekhyun/ park chanyeol, college au, enemies to lovers au, fluff and angst (possible smut later!)

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 :: 15.9K

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖 :: hi! admin 🐨 here. this is the first part of our series that’s in progress, and our first time posting. the second chapter of this series will be posted soon, and we hope you’ll enjoy this! we’ve worked hard and hope you’ll give us good feedback :D now onto the story!

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Baekhyun had never disliked a person so quickly in his life than when he first met Park Chanyeol.

To begin with, he was way too tall. What had he been eating? He was like 10 feet tall and he made Baekhyun feel small and insignificant. Worse, he was well aware of how tall he was and the power it gave him.

“I’m hitting six foot one actually,” he had said, a smirk that Baekhyun hated almost as much as Chanyeol’s tallness appearing.

Oh, that was another thing. Chanyeol liked to smirk way too much. Baekhyun could be objective and admit that Chanyeol was good looking, he had a cute face that would show flashes of being handsome in between his stupid smile and his even more idiotic smirk, but Baekhyun was nothing but an honest person. The smirk irritated him from day one, something about it making Baekhyun grit his teeth and feel like he should leave before he ended up trying to hit Chanyeol and probably break his hand in the process.

Baekhyun had no problem with confidence, he knew he himself was cute, and he liked seeing other people be confident too, but Chanyeol was where he drew the line. Why else would he wear a leather jacket like that and style his hair with just enough muss to make him look hot? Why else would he look like that when he knew people were checking him out? He knew what he was doing, Baekhyun wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Yet, there was something that always drew them together. Baekhyun wasn’t sure why, but Chanyeol was always there, even when he hated him and his dumbass smirk. Some kind of force always ended up shoving them together, like they were destined. And maybe they were. All Baekhyun knew was that Park Chanyeol was a part of his life now, like it or not.

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Even if it was destiny, Baekhyun didn't have to suffer silently.

“I can’t believe this!” He threw his hands in the air as he walked with Jongdae to the mess hall for lunch. “I can’t believe Professor Lim would do this to me,” Jongdae stifled laughter next to him, his eyes sparking with amusement and making Baekhyun more indignant. “I can’t work with him. I can’t! It’s a death sentence. He won’t do any work, and then I’ll have to do the whole thing, and then I’m gonna fight him to the death.” Jongdae laughed aloud as they entered the dining hall, a few people looking over at his loud voice.

“Baekhyun, surely it’s not that bad.” Baekhyun pouted, standing in line for food and crossing his arms. He felt like a petulant child but he had a right to be upset.

Park Chanyeol was probably the worst person he could have been paired with, he was annoying, he was lazy, and he probably didn’t know anything about what they were doing. Baekhyun had seen him curled up on his desk fast asleep during their film history lessons, and anyone who slept in class got an immediate downvote from him.

Granted, the class was boring as fuck on it’s best days, so he couldn’t really blame anyone for succumbing to sleep during the lectures, but still. Baekhyun wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

“I know you hate this guy’s guts or whatever,” Jongdae passed Baekhyun a tray with a plate. “But maybe you guys can work out whatever animosity you have over this. I’m sure he’s a nice guy deep down.” Baekhyun snorted.

“Deep, deep down maybe. He's an asshole, I can't imagine he has anything in his brain other than annoying thoughts about how to bother me,” Baekhyun said, scrunching his nose as he picked his entree. Jongdae rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t you say he just sleeps in Film History? How is that annoying?” Baekhyun pointed the salad tongs at him.

“Don’t take his side, you traitor. He snores, and sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the lecture and he sits in front of me and he’s too tall for me to see over him.” Jongdae coughed a laugh into his elbow and looked at Baekhyun amusedly.

“You’re so weird about him. Are you sure you don’t like him?” Baekhyun felt his face flame up.

“What the fuck?” he spluttered, dropping a slice of cucumber on his tray and quickly tossing the serving tongs back. “No I dont fucking like him,” he hissed, feeling enraged at the mere suggestion. Baekhyun wasn’t like the crowd of people that always followed Chanyeol, gaping at his looks and swooning about his motorcycle. He had better things to do, like hate him. “He’s an idiot. I have standards you know,” he said, lifting his nose and moving along the line to pay. Jongdae shrugged.

“Just saying, all this hate stuff looks like you might have a crush on him. You’re acting like a second grader.” Baekhyun ignored him and paid his food, marching off to their usual table. “Maybe you should give him a chance. Maybe he’s not an asshole after all.” Jongdae shrugged as he sat down and Baekhyun shook his head, unwrapping his silverware. “It’s not like you can do anything about it anyways,” Jongdae said, and Baekhyun sighed.

“I guess not. But I don’t want to do it.” The whine that slipped into his voice made Jongdae roll his eyes again, and he changed the subject to something about his own classes, and Baekhyun listened while he ate his chicken.

They chatted for a while, and soon the memory of being paired with the most annoying guy on campus faded into the back of Baekhyun’s mind.

At least until he showed up.

Baekhyun was sure he had a sixth sense, something that told Chanyeol where he was so he could pester him in any way possible. He saw the tall, gray haired man walking into the dining hall from his seat, and he felt his shoulders tense.

“Oh god, why me?” he said, slumping down in his seat, hoping Chanyeol would ignore him and go eat. He watched as Chanyeol got in line and got his food, before paying and walking down the aisle of tables. “Don’t look that way!” Baekhyun whispered fiercely at Jongdae when he turned to look at what Baekhyun was staring at.

“What is it?” Chanyeol’s eyes were scanning the crowd, and Baekhyun willed him to just find his friends and go to them. In a strange moment though, Chanyeol’s eyes met his, and the dining hall noise quieted to a buzz, and all Baekhyun could see was Chanyeol with his tray. A part of him (a small, small part) noted how pretty his eyes were, especially framed with his ashy bangs. Then his smirk appeared and Baekhyun yanked his gaze away, feeling his face flush. What was wrong with him?

“Oh,” Jongdae said, as he saw Chanyeol approaching them. “Oops.”

Chanyeol stood next to their table, his tall self making Baekhyun feel irritated already just by being there.

“Hey.”

Baekhyun looked up at him, and sure enough, he was smiling at him like a fool. Chanyeol waved at Jongdae who waved back, looking like he was holding back a smile. Traitor. “What do you want?” he snapped, and Chanyeol clasped a hand over his heart and pouted.

“Is that how you treat your partner?” Baekhyun scowled.

“When he’s an asshat like you, yes. What do you want?”

“Your number.” Jongdae was watching the whole interaction with a seemingly horrified amusement, and Baekhyun wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Chanyeol was such an idiot. “Before you get excited though, it’s just for school stuff.”

Chanyeol’s smirk was back with force, and Baekhyun clutched his fork in his hand, reminding himself he couldn’t attack another human, that would go against everything he stood for.

“Who said I’m not asking for a partner change?” Baekhyun could see the amusement in Chanyeol’s eyes.

“We both know Professor Lim would never agree to changing partners. Besides, I know you’re a little nerd, and you like getting good grades. So it makes sense that you’d work with me even though you don’t like me for this project.” Chanyeol’s smirk was out again, and Baekhyun glared at him.

They were like that for a moment, Baekhyun trying to strangle him with his gaze and Chanyeol grinning like a loon. Then Baekhyun’s logical brain intercepted. He really had no choice, Chanyeol was right even though Baekhyun hated to admit it. His grades were too important for him to throw them away even if he didn’t like Chanyeol.

“I’m not gonna let you slack. Don’t think this is a free ride to a good grade. The moment you don’t do something I'm reporting you,” Baekhyun threatened, pulling his phone out. Chanyeol’s smile widened if possible, and he nodded.

“Sounds reasonable.” Baekhyun gave him his phone number on a piece of napkin and tossed it onto his tray.

“Now go away, you’re ruining my appetite.” Chanyeol saluted him and winked at Jongdae, who just waved and began laughing.

“Oh my god you weren’t lying, you really do hate him.” Baekhyun stabbed his chicken and rolled his eyes.

“He’s the worst.” Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol practically strutted away like a weird bird, feeling a weird combination of emotions in his chest.

Jongdae hummed. “He’s cute though,” he said, smiling. Baekhyun tossed a carrot slice at him.

“Shut up,” he grumbled into his salad, definitely not thinking about the way Chanyeol’s eyes had lit up.

**************

The rest of Baekhyun’s day went by in relatively normal uneventfulness, and he cherished every moment of it. He was a very organized person, he liked to live comfortably, and he found the most comfort in regularity and order. Even though Jongdae liked to clown him about his four different planners and his insanely neat desk, Baekhyun found peace in knowing how things were and the dependability that organization offered.

That was probably why love scared him so much.

Baekhyun’s first love was a neighbor he had when he was 13. It was the way he figured out that girls weren’t quite his thing, and also the way he figured out that him liking boys wasn’t other people’s thing either. His parents had been supportive, but his neighbors had decided to move 3 states over to keep him from “infecting” their son. From then on, Baekhyun had approached the subject of love and crushes with a distance that he knew he could control.

He hadn’t ever done anything more than kiss a boy, the fear of the unknown abyss that was physical intimacy made his palms sweat and his skin itch. And while it wasn’t like he didn’t want to do anything more, he just wasn’t sure what to do. Thoughts of the way his neighbor looked at him would always cloud his mind and convince him that he couldn’t risk it. Comfort in regularity. Love was too irregular for him to want anything to do with it. Losing control like he had once to only get rejected again would be far more painful than it had been the first time.

So, Baekhyun liked his schedule and he liked keeping things the same. Every weekday that he could he went to his favorite coffee shop to unwind and do some homework before going back to his and Jongdae’s place, and that afternoon was no exception.

“Hi!” Jongin’s bright smile was just as comforting as it was every other day he came in, and Baekhyun found himself smiling back.

“Hey. How are you?” Jongin shrugged, his smile lopsided.

“I’m okay. Your usual?” Baekhyun nodded and went to pay at the counter. Jongin was possibly the kindest person Baekhyun had ever met in his life. He always had kind words and encouragement for him, and he laughed at all of Baekhyun’s jokes, which was something few people did. He also made some of the best coffee he had ever tried. It was safe to say Jongin was probably his favorite person ever.

“I heard you got a new partner for Film History,” Jongin said, his eyes playful and Baekhyun busied himself with finding exact change in his wallet.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Jongin took the money he offered and printed his receipt.

“He’s not that bad if you give him a chance,” he said, his voice gaining a pleading tone. Baekhyun raised his eyebrows.

“Is everyone suddenly pro-Chanyeol?” Jongin pursed his lips at him.

“I have to be, I live with him.” Baekhyun sighed and frowned sympathetically, playing it up to see Jongin smile again.

“I am so sorry that happened to you.” Jongin’s laugh made Baekhyun smile, and he shook his head. “Really, a tragedy.” Jongin gave him his receipt and went to make his coffee.

“I mean it though Baek, he’s not bad. He’s really sweet and he’s smart, and he likes film. You guys have a lot in common.” Baekhyun ran his finger tip along the edge of the counter and hummed. It seemed to be the general consensus that Chanyeol was God’s gift to mankind, but Baekhyun had seen enough from people like him before. They liked to play games with people, and Baekhyun had been close enough to someone like that for them to scald him with their egotistic manners.

“I think I know him well enough for now, thanks. Besides, it's just one project, I can deal with it.” Chanyeol had been right to say that Baekhyun liked having good grades. He would probably crawl over broken glass to make sure his grades stayed above a B at all times. Jongdae called him a control freak. Maybe he was.

“Well, at least be civil with him. He seemed kind of bothered by the way you guys don’t get along.” Jongin’s puppy gaze was out now, and Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“Yeah I'm sure having just one person not like him really put his panties in a twist,” Jongin frowned a little as he handed Baekhyun his coffee.

“He doesn’t like being disliked. But if you were him you wouldn’t either.” The solemnity in Jongin’s gaze and in his words made Baekhyun blink.

“I’ll be civil,” he promised, before taking a swig of his coffee. “Great as always Nini, thanks.” Jongin beamed at him and Baekhyun had to wonder how such an angel had befriended such a jerk like Chanyeol. Jongin’s words ricocheted in his mind, and he couldn’t help but think about them as he sat to work.

Maybe there was more to Chanyeol than whatever front he put on in public. Baekhyun could relate, he had been through times where he couldn’t bear the thought of being disliked, but he couldn’t imagine caring so much now. He could be civil enough, he thought, as long as Chanyeol didn’t try to pull any funny business. The thought of Chanyeol and funny business made him turn red and he dug into his bag for his computer to work on something.

He sat in the comfortable space of his usual table, headphones on with some low-fi music playing to help him concentrate for a few hours, until Jongdae texted him and begged for food with a string of emojis that made Baekhyun shake his head and smile fondly. He left the coffee shop after packing his things and stopped by their favorite thai place and got their dinner before finally arriving at their apartment.

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“Finally!” Jongdae just about fell off their couch with excitement when Baekhyun entered, dropping his book and darting for the food. “I haven’t eaten since lunch!” Baekhyun laughed as Jongdae dug into the food, settling back onto the couch with a pleased hum. As Baekhyun went to the kitchen for a glass of water, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked his messages, where a new message from an unknown number waited for him.

Yo! It’s Chanyeol ;D

Baekhyun’s first instinct was to delete the message and carry on with his life like he would have at any other point. But he stopped himself with a groan and opened his messaging app. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment, before he typed a reply out.

What do you want?

The little bubble with the dots appeared and Baekhyun felt dread lace his stomach.

Wow. Are you always this rude?

Baekhyun scoffed and made a face at his phone.

Only to people who deserve it.

A part of Baekhyun felt bad for being so short with him, but the logic in his mind told him Chanyeol wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it.

Are you going to answer my question?

Baekhyun stood in the kitchen, glass in hand, staring at his phone and waiting for a reply. Jongdae’s voice came from the other room.

“Hey, do we have any ketchup?” Baekhyun blinked. Suddenly aware that he, Byun Baekhyun, was waiting for a reply from the person he liked least in the world. What was he doing? Chanyeol was probably at a party or something stupid like that, it was no skin off Baekhyun’s back. He put his glass down and looked for ketchup. He finally found it in the back of the refrigerator, hiding behind a jar of something weird he would rather not know about. When he turned, Jongdae was standing right behind him, making him jump about a mile into the air.

“What the-what are you doing?” Jongdae pouted at him.

“You took too long,” he said, and Baekhyun squints at him. “Who’s texting you so much?” Baekhyun glanced at his phone which was lighting up.

“No one,” he said quickly, feeling warm suddenly. Jongdae raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Baekhyun grabbed his phone and put it in his pocket. He edged around Jongdae and escaped to the living room, sitting on the couch and trying not to seem uncomfortable or embarrassed, which he totally was. Thankfully, Jongdae seemed to read the situation and didn’t ask him any questions, and they ate in relative silence,

Baekhyun itching to both check his phone and also throw it out a window. When they finished and cleaned up, Baekhyun said a quick goodnight before going to his room and shutting the door. He felt like he was betraying someone as he took his phone out and checked it. Chanyeol had sent a few texts, all followed by weird, random emojis. He grimaced as he scrolled through them, wishing he had given him a fake number instead. The last message was one that caught Baekhyun’s eye.

Library, 4pm, tomorrow?

It was followed by a string of winky faces that both made Baekhyun feel funny inside but also annoyed as hell. He sighed. He might as well get used to it if he was going to be working with Chanyeol, he was going to be insufferable regardless. He shot back a quick response, closing his phone and sitting on the edge of his bed. He sat there a moment, his thoughts drifting to how he had felt while looking at Chanyeol in the dining hall. “Are you sure you don’t like him?” The thought of Jongdae's unbelieving tone made Baekhyun scoff to himself. Of course he didn’t like him. Chanyeol was irritating and abrasive and he was definitely out to get him.

Even if he was really good looking and had pretty eyes, Baekhyun couldn’t like him. It was the principle of the matter. He flopped back onto his mattress and stared at his ceiling. Maybe Chanyeol would think he liked him if he showed up alone. It would seem a little...date-ish...right? Baekhyun’s thoughts raced as he chewed his lip. If Chanyeol thought Baekhyun liked him, there would be no end to the torture, he would just keep bothering him until Baekhyun died (had anyone ever died of annoyance before? Baekhyun wasn’t sure). He sat up suddenly, ignoring the spinning of his head and launching himself out his door to Jongdae’s room.

“Hey!” He banged on Jongdae’s door a couple times, still biting his lip and now pacing on the carpet outside of his roommate’s door. The door opened, and Jongdae’s face mask covered visage poked out along with Ariana Grande’s golden vocals.

“Where’s the fire?” he asked, trying not to move his mouth too much to keep the mask on.

“You’re free tomorrow right?”

“Well, I have class at 12 and then I have to meet with someone at 3, but yeah-” Baekhyun slapped the doorway with triumph, making Jongdae flinch.

“What the fuck is up with you right now? Did you drink something weird?” Jongdae’s judgmental eyes watched as he began to back away.

“You’re coming with me!” he said, smiling. Jongdae’s voice followed him all the way back to his room.

“What? Where are you going? Come back here! Where are you taking me-” Baekhyun shut his door behind him and leaned against it, a relieved smile creeping across his face. If Baekhyun had to suffer, it wasn’t going to be alone.

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caffeineivore · 7 years

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MOAR FIC

Title: Yuan Fen

Ship: R/J AU

Notes: Yuan Fen: Fateful coincidence; destiny which brings two people’s lives together at some point, often through astronomical odds. “It takes hundreds of rebirths to bring two persons to ride in the same boat; it takes a thousand eons to bring two persons to share the same pillow.” A concept related to karma in Chinese Buddism.

Rating: PG/PG13

In which Jadeite talks about jadeite. Because of reasons :P

Perhaps it’s the oxygen, or finally getting over the jet lag, but Rachel starts to feel a bit more like her normal self after another day or two, and on the morning that the tour is scheduled to go to a historic old town, she manages a nice enough smile for all and sundry when she boards the bus.

As usual, John Simmons takes his spot up at the front of the bus, and gives a brief overview of the old town, its history, and some of the local arts, crafts and eats sold within.

“You will find lots of little shops selling silver, and jadeite, both of which are produced in the area. Now, I wouldn’t be doing my job as a tour guide if I allowed you guys to buy glass masquerading as the good stuff, right?” He reaches under the shirt he’s wearing, and pulls out a lustrous, dark-green pendant on red thread.

“This is the Bodhisattva Guan Yin, or, more in layman’s terms, the goddess of mercy. It’s carved of jadeite, which is found primarily in Myanmar, a country which borders China to the south. Most of their raw stones are sent here for processing and carving, and a lot of the artisans in the area still create jewelry and artifacts in the old way. Jadeite is known by a few other names-- hard jade, because it is higher on the Mohs scale than nephrite, or kingfisher jade, because its colours are said to resemble the iridescence of a kingfisher’s feathers.” He then reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a small woman’s compact, much to the amusement of everyone on the bus, and winks. “I know, I know, not everyone can say they woke up like this. Some people are luckier-- and a lot prettier-- than me.”

Rachel tells herself amidst the chuckles that his glance at her means nothing, and focuses on his movements as he opens up the compact mirror. He clears his throat and continues his explanation. “So back to the original topic of how to tell real jadeite from fake. For one thing, it’s fairly hard. So...” He slides the bottom of his pendant along the glass of the mirror, then holds up the mirror for all to see. “Real jadeite falls between 6 and 7 on the Mohs scale. Which is hard enough to scratch glass. It’s also cold to the touch, and takes a while to warm up against your skin. If you clink two pieces together, it should sound almost like when someone taps a fork against a champagne glass, rather than a dull, plastic-y sound. And you should hold it up to the light. Anything that is too even in colour, without any type of crystalline structure in the stone, is probably either overly chemically enhanced, or pulverized glass bonded together to look like the real thing.”

He goes on to name a few reputable shops in case they wanted to buy any while there in the area, before moving on different topics such as local eats one might wish to try, before reminding everyone of what time to be back on the bus after the visit.

After the bus parks, he falls in step next to Rachel, and at her startled look, grins in a slightly impertinent way. “Everyone else is off in groups. You’re the only one here alone, so you’d be the hardest to find if you were to get lost.”

She scowls at that. “I don’t always get lost. That day on the mountains in Shangri-La I wasn’t lost, I just didn’t feel well. And furthermore...”

What probably would have been a tirade on her part is cut rather anticlimactically short when a diminuitive old lady in ethnic dress steps into her path, holding out several wreaths of fresh flowers. “Hua hua, Mei nü?”

Rachel involuntarily glances at John, who smiles. “She’s asking if you would like to buy some flowers. We’re still pretty high up, and it’s quite sunny today-- the combination of high altitude and hot sun can result in some pretty nasty sunburn. For local girls who may not have heard of SPF 45, flower wreaths are a popular way of keeping the worst of it out of their faces and eyes.”

“Did she just call me...?”

“Yeah, she did.” Now his smile morphs into a grin. “It’s not meant as a creepy term, you know. Didn’t you ever have friends from down south in America who call people honey or sweetie all the time?” He says something in Chinese to the flower seller, who smiles and surveys Rachel’s face critically before picking a wreath of exuberantly-blooming purple and lavender rhododendrons with a gap-toothed smile. She reaches up and unceremoniously places it on the top of Rachel’s head even as John slips her a small amount of cash. The flower seller quickly moves off, looking for her next buyer, and Rachel frowns up at John through her new, fluffy headdress.

“You didn’t have to-- I’m wearing sunblock. My foundation actually is SPF 15, too, on top of that.”

He merely shrugs, and takes out the scratched compact again, and holds it in front of her face. Reflected, Rachel sees the slightly incongruous reflection of herself, with perfectly-winged eyeliner and classic ruby studs in her ears, and a flower crown befitting some fairy tale princess settled on top of her hair. There’s a flush in her cheekbones that certainly must come from the sun shining overhead.

“It suits you.” John says quietly. “And... it’s a nice face. Might as well take whatever precautions we can to keep it that way, yeah?” And then, unthinkingly, he reaches up and tucks a stray lock of her hair behind her ear before dropping his hand, and Rachel can almost see him reminding himself to keep a professional distance. “Well. Want to go grab some tea or coffee? They produce both, locally, and it’s quite good.”

The last thing she needs is more caffeine to wreak havoc on her suddenly-jittery nerves and the mysterious swarm of butterflies in her stomach, and Rachel manufactures an air of studied nonchalance perfected from a long legacy of Manhattan cynicism. “Mm, I’m good. So where did you say we should go to buy jade?”

John takes her to a shop definitely a few steps up from the apparent tourist trap variety, with well-lit jewelry counters manned by polished-looking young men and women in matching ethnic uniforms. There’s a wide selection ranging from pendants to beaded necklaces to bangles in all different colours. “I thought jade was supposed to be green,” Rachel glances up at him. “Yours is. Did you buy it from here, too?”

“No, mine was a present,” he answers. “A good luck charm, if you will.”

Rachel privately wonders if it was from a woman and then scolds herself for the direction of her thoughts. “Yeah, I’ve only seen green jade before, I think.”

“That’s certainly the most common colour,” John tells her, before walking towards a selection of bangles in an ethereal shade of lavender-tinged white. “Mm, maybe this. Lavender jadeite is very rare, very precious. Some people call it violet flower jade.” As though on cue, one of the sales clerks unlocks the glass-fronted display and brings out a selection of stunning, translucent bangles for Rachel’s perusal, and she can’t help but pick one up, dazzled by its glossy, delicate colour. It is cold to the touch, much as John had said.

“It’s probably a bit hard to put on,” he says softly even as the helpful sales clerk, apparently quite practiced at her task, wraps Rachel’s left hand in a polyethylene glove and helps her slip on the bangle. “But, you’re supposed to keep it on. Jade’s colours deepen and brighten the longer you wear it, especially if you’re healthy. It looks good on you. Brings out your eyes.”

“I don’t... oh, hell. Why not?” Rachel digs out cash, then raises her wrist to admire her new purchase. “It’s beautiful, it really is. But why did she put it on my left wrist without asking?”

“Jade bracelets are always worn on the left,” John tells her. “It’s on the side of the heart, and when someone wears jade, especially if it’s given as a present, it’s to remind the person that they’re loved, and that the giver wants to ensure their protection from evil, illness and sorrow.” He aims a crooked smile at Rachel and picks up her hand. “And when you buy it for yourself, it’s a reminder to love and care for yourself, because you’re worth it. Understand?”

It’s almost the sort of words her grandfather would have said to her when she was a little girl, and for that reason, Rachel gives his hand a squeeze back. “Yeah.”

#R/J #sailor moon #senshi/shitennou #fanfiction #fanfic #yuanfen romcom

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cutegirlmayra · 7 years

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Quite a lot of soulmate AUs out here don't ya think? XD I have an abstract prompt for you, if you wanna write it. It's often said that "the one for you brings out the colours in your world." So I was thinking you can make a sonamy oneshot out of that? Is that cool? Yeah? Ehem...lovely weather we're having here...hehhe...

Oh, lovely weather indeed.

So, I finally looked up Soulmate AU’s, and to match yours, I found one that said if you “Touch your soulmate, you can see color. If not, you see in black and white.” And I found that… rather… interesting.

Hehehehe~ Huhuhu~

(x)

Prompt:

“Hey, mister!”

Sonic, turning to the crowd, bent down to see a young girl waving her arm around to be noticed.

“May I help you?” He smiled, charmingly. It wasn’t his first time dealing with cute fangirls…

She giggled, ‘teehee’ing at being noticed before held a microphone up, revealing this little girl actually had some motive.

“Oh?” He blinked his eyes, looking more further up to see a man holding a camera.

An interview?

“Sonic The Hedgehog, could you describe your encounter with Eggman?”

Happily, he leaned up, thumbs up’ing the excited crowd and giving a friendly wink.

“Sure thing! After hearing the flickies went missing, I set out to Little Planet but before I could retrieve them through time-traveling nuisance- And honestly… the traffic for the future these days, sheesh!” He folded his arms, shaking his head as he looked away while the crowd laughed at his joke. “Well, anyway. I had to save this girl, see. And-”

“A girl?” The news reporter tilted her head, “Did you by chance see color with this girl?”

Suddenly, Sonic’s once confident and playful attitude left in almost an instant.

“…Color…” He moved his hand that was pointing out to speak another witty line of his story down as he suddenly seemed a little phased by that question.

He looked at his white and black hand, turning it over a time or two.

“Color.” His eyelids dropped, as if some foreign longing…

“Yes. As in, did you perchance meet your soulmate?” The girl held the microphone to him.

Disenchanted by the world a moment, he continued to look at his hand… before slowly smiling a soft grin, his hand clenching, and his eyelids slowly falling.

The world around him changed…

His flashback started as he lifted his head, and his image returned to the moment Amy stood behind him, looking out towards him.

“I had no idea… One touch could bring out so much wonder in the world.”

He turns around, still holding his hand out and closed, but this time, angling himself to see her better.

She stood there, in black and white, before grinning widely and striking a cute pose.

“She seemed normal. I’d seen girls before. She might have acted a little funny and weird. But to me, she was as normal as any of them come.”

She started running towards him now, jumping out to embrace.

He staggered back a moment, sheepish it seemed.

“That said… I never have seen one… light up in my arms before.”

His arms moved out to catch her, worried she had fallen or tripped in some way.

The second they touched, her hands to his arms, the world sprang to beautiful life, and Sonic’s eyes widened as the first colors he could see… were her own.

“I’ll never forget it. The first time I really looked around.”

With her head still ducked down, Sonic almost bent to a knee, before straightening himself out and looking around.

“The sky was.. blue? I was blue! The water, some flowers… all blue too.”

He had heard by some that he was blue, always with their hands holding tightly to their soulmates, and he had always wondered what blue looked liked.

Making the comparison, he liked his color very much.

But it wasn’t his favorite.

He looked down at the girl.

“I heard her say her name was Amy… Amy Rose.”

Amy lifted her head, and the first thing he noticed… was the different color of her eyes.

“In that instant, all I wanted to know was what color was that.”

Amy blinked, apparently now noticing the shift too.

For a moment, they stared at each other’s eyes, before she turned to look around, freaking out slightly as she jumped further into his embrace at her shock from seeing grasses green for the first time.

Sonic was startled by the abrupt movement, stepping back a bit, but seeming to pull her with him.

They awkwardly held onto one another a moment, looking back at each other, what they looked liked, and then to the world around them once more.

For a moment, he didn’t mind the touch, before moving away slightly and taking his hand off of her.

He looked around as the color almost instantaneously drained from the world. In great displeasure, he frowned, pouting.

He immediately, and lightly, gripped her arm again.

She blushed as she looked down, before back at him, and then the world.

“The next words out of our mouths was mostly an exchange. I told her what I thought the color blue was- well, that’s a lie. First we asked if we saw the same things, then we talked about our scarce knowledge of colors. She knew more than me, and complained about her outfit didn’t match, apparently.”

The two walked, hand in hand for a time, before Sonic finally let go.

“She started talking about what this meant… and that’s where it got weird.”

She looked confused at him pulling away, and slowly backing off, looking sweaty and a waving his arms about, shaking his head slightly.

“Marriage? Why? I think I’ll pass. Color is cool and all… beautiful even. But if that means trading my freedom away? Pfft! Smell ya later, Amy!”

Sonic took off, as Amy raced after him, her arms out, desperation in her eyes at wanting to be close again and see the different combinations of miraculous light.

He looked behind him.

“It was probably the first time ever that I looked back… and actually was tempted, and wanted to, go back.”

Amy struggled to keep up, and soon, she hit her knees coming down. Looking up, there was a hopeless look in her eyes, as if….

“How could someone seem so heart broken… like the way we were when I ran away? I said goodbye to love. I chose that right off the bat, but…”

Sonic looked forward and to the ground, frowning in deep thought before hearing a shriek and skidding to a halt, turning around only to find that Metal Sonic had scooped Amy up, carrying her off and away from him.

“Destiny.. apparently… had other plans.”

—

“You saved me!”

“Well, I had too.”

“But you did-! W-wait, h-ha-had too?”

She pulled away from her embrace, looking distraught at his reply.

He dodged eye contact, but just the embrace alone had triggered the colors.

Rainbows…

He finally thought he saw a rainbow.

His eyes, mesmerized by beauty, fixated on what he could see as Amy tilted her head to try and see him better.

Upset, she pouted and quickly moved her hands away from him.

The vision faded to gray-scales once more.

“Hey!” Sonic swung around.

“Hmph.” she folded her arms, looking away and holding her head up high to the side.

“What’s the big idea? Don’t like what you see?” He bent his head down, a little sour. Only because he wished he didn’t have to get along with some girl in order to see the beautiful world around him.

He blinked, waiting for a response before she finally looked back at him, hunching over slightly and putting her hands to her hips; rebelliously.

“I like the pretty colors too, you know!”

“Good. Then we agree.” He outstretched his hand. “Give me your hand so we can see them again.”

“No!” She turned away, once again being stubborn.

‘This chick..!’ he gripped his hand close, shaking it slightly in his frustrations before swishing his hand away.

“Grr… Why are you being so stuck up about it?” He was gritting his teeth. Honestly, though, he was just upset he had to ‘get permission’ to look at color.

“A moment ago, you were talking about marriage. Now, you can’t stand me?”

“It’s not that!” she turned back around, looking a bit pompous as she stood with her eyes closed, chest out as if to make a statement that she wasn’t intimidated by him.

“Huh?” He put his own hands to his side, sizing her up as he leaned forward, wondering what her strange deal was…

“We’re soulmates! And that means we have to be together!”

“PFft.”

“It’s not funny! It’s serious! I’m your true love!”

“True love?”

She looked offended, before her face dropped to sorrow and she nodded, turning a little more helpless again.

“Don’t you understand that?”

“Heh. I highly doubt the two of us even knew what that meant before we crossed paths.” He turned his head away, before realizing he was being pretty mean to her.

She turned away, holding her hands up to herself and seeming saddened by his reply…

He sighed.

‘Look Sonic…’ he glanced back over to her. ‘You may not like it… but if you want to actually see for a change, you’re gonna have to make this girl happy with you. So start charming!’

He turned around, “Ehem. Let me try this again…”

She looked back to him, still seeming a bit shut down from his last statement…

He offered her his hand, “I don’t know about the whole ‘soulmate’ thing, but… Why not go on a ride with me?” He lifted a toe up, almost bowing to ‘try’ and be polite by asking her.

“It would be my… uh… treat.” now he seemed out of his element, looking away a moment as if nervous, but innocently waiting for a response.

‘Girls like gentlemen, right?’

She seemed to smile suddenly, taking his hand.

“Sonic…” she looked up at him, as the world of color once again returned.

“Hmm?” He bent his eyes slightly, glad he had won her back, somehow.

“….” she stared at his hand, then raced into his arms again, another awkward hug as he flailed a bit at the impact.

“Wha-wha-whaaa! H-hey! What gives!? Ahh…”

“Emmm~ I’m gonna love you till eternity!”

“E…E-what now?” he blinked, unsure of that word, before looking up and seeing something familiar…

“Eggman!”

—-

Sonic thought back on the wild chase, the long runs and walks as he took that girl all over to explore the sights and colors they could find. Eventually, making it a sport.

He smiled as he placed a hand to his chin, still thinking, before looking up at the reporter girl.

“I’ll tell you one thing.” Sonic smiled, moving his head up and out of his hand.

The people all stared, before the camera man peeked away from where his eye was looking in, before nervously remembering his job and ducking it back down.

The camera zoomed in and focused, as the place went quiet to hear his reply.

He folded his arms, smirking another haughty grin at the attention.

“I don’t know where she is at the moment… but I know she’ll probably catch up with me. And when she does…” He then struck his signature bend-forward-and-wave-finger to the camera.

“I won’t let her slip away this time!”

—

Amy watched the screen with total delight, her face elated at the news with a big rise of an open grin.

She hurriedly grabbed her coat, then her hammer, and started off.

It had been forever since she’d last had her little ‘date’ with her hero. And after all this time…

“Heehee~” she strode bravely out of her house, “I knew he couldn’t resist me!~ Or the wonder of color, for that matter! haha!” she almost skipped as she made her way to wherever the wind may take her this time…~

Others like this (x) (x) (x)

#sonamy #classic sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #soulmate au #sonamy prompt #sonic prompt #classic amy rose #classic amy #classic sonic #classic sonic the hedgehog #sonic cd

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