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junghelioseok · 3 years

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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chloegong · 3 years

Text

that semi-AU romajuliette + benmars fic

i need a permanent place to store this after dumping a random google doc on twitter so here it is, the author writing fic for her own book because people gave me headcanons and they were too good not to make use of

the one where juliette and marshall go out for a night out on the town and roma and ben have to go along to supervise because one time they accidentally committed arson —headcanon from twitter user @leonidasvaldz

a semi AU where Benedikt and Marshall were hanging out with Roma and Juliette in those happy months R&J had together in 1922 before everything went wrong (aka you can take this as canon because it will fit the timeline but the characters won’t have memory of this in the actual published books)

Disclaimer: i wrote this in one go inside a starbucks please expect ao3 user chloegong and not Author Chloe Gong who does multiple rounds of edits on her books

Second Disclaimer: nobody go putting this on goodreads before someone on my publishing team kicks my ass (rightfully so, i’m on deadline rn and i’m writing fanfic instead of my real contracted manuscript)

Mandatory reminder that Our Violent Ends is available for preorder with all links here :)

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And yet, somehow, Benedikt was watching fire curl around the side of the building, the roof beams giving a loud groan before shuddering and caving in on itself.

He turned a look onto Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Five hours earlier...

Juliette climbed in through the window of Roma’s bedroom, careful to hug the burlap bag close to her chest as she landed on his carpet. The howling wind outside drowned out some of the clinking, but the glass bottles were still making a racket no matter how carefully she hugged the bag. She had gone full throttle for tonight; when no one was watching and her relatives were downstairs crowing over a game of cards, she had snuck around and robbed the liquor cabinets at the Scarlet mansion quite generously. Now she dropped the bag onto Roma’s floor with a huff, brushing a curl of hair out of her eyes.

“Where’s Marshall?”

Roma looked up from where he was reading, putting his book down and rising from the bed smoothly.

“Well, hello.” He strode toward her, stopping before her with his arms crossed. “Lovely to see you too. You do know it is my bedroom you just snuck into, right?”

Juliette pretended to jump in surprise, looking around wildly. “Do you jest? Oh, bother. Let me climb back out and go find my real lover. Marshall! Where are—”

With a huff that seemed to double as a laugh, Roma grabbed her wrist before she could turn around and leave through the window again.

“You’re hilarious,” he said dryly.

“I know.” Juliette reached up with her free hand, clasping her cold fingers right onto his neck. Though her palm was freezing from the bitter temperatures outside, Roma hardly flinched, he only shrugged his shoulder up to keep her hand there. He couldn’t fight back the grin. For several seconds, the two of them only stood there, looking like a pair of idiots smiling at each other.

Then his door opened.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Marshall bounded into the room, throwing the door wide open. With a horrified expression, Benedikt hurried in after him and closed the door quickly, listening for movement on the other side.

“Yes, leave the door wide open,” Benedikt said. “While any White Flower strolling the corridor can peer in and see the Scarlet heir standing there in a silly coat.”

Juliette stepped away from Roma, peering down at herself as if she had forgotten what she put on. “I didn’t think it was that silly. It’s my disguise.”

“You do look a little like a housewife,” Marshall said, considering the coat.

“A fifteen-year-old housewife?”

“I suppose that is exactly why you look a little silly.”

Juliette pulled a face, but refrained from arguing further. She was here tonight because Marshall wanted to see the new Scarlet club that opened along Thibet Road, and she had promised she could sneak him in. Unfortunately, Marshall was bad at keeping secrets, and the worst at keeping secrets from Benedikt. The moment that Benedikt heard Marshall was planning on entering Scarlet territory, he had decided that he would come in accompaniment.

Juliette supposed it was only fair. Benedikt didn’t entirely trust her, but he was nice enough. He tolerated her presence and always kept an eye over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t spotted on their territory if she poked her head in to see Roma. While Juliette didn’t know much about Marshall either, he was far warmer than his best friend, and for the first time last week, they had even enjoyed an outing with just the two of them. Juliette Cai and Marshall Seo—out and about in the border territories on a quaint evening.

That outing had ended with accidental arson though, so it was rather possible that exacerbated Benedikt’s desire to play chaperone. And of course, if Benedikt was coming along, Roma wanted to tag along too.

The arson was hardly their fault, Juliette and Marshall had maintained when the Montagovs asked questions. What kind of person left a stack of hay out beside a bar? And what kind of hay was that easily flammable just from accidentally whacking one of the lanterns on the awning onto the stack?

“All right.” Juliette hauled the bag up again. “Are we ready to sneak onto Scarlet territory?”

“Absolutely not,” Benedikt muttered, strolling past her for Roma’s window. “But is that going to stop either of you?”

Before anyone could answer him, Benedikt had already hopped the small gap between windows, climbing into their neighboring building for their route out unspotted.

“Great!” Juliette said. She passed the bag to Roma so he could do the carrying. What was the point of converting a rival gang enemy into a lover if not to lug around her heavy things? “Glad we’re all so enthusiastic.”

Roma sighed, clambering onto his sill and making the climb too. “The things I do for you, dorogaya.”

Marshall hurried after him. “I would argue you’re actually doing this for me, dearest Roma!”

With a snort, Juliette climbed out last, and pulled the window after her.

The Scarlet club had been a bust. Of course, Benedikt had figured that would be the case from the get-go, especially if they were sneaking in at such a late hour to avoid being seen by anyone important in the Scarlet Gang. At least Juliette had provided good alcohol, and now he squinted at the label of the wine bottle under the street lamps while they walked, taking the smaller main roads along the periphery of the city.

Up ahead, Roma and Juliette were whispering to each other, though they didn’t sound like they were talking in full sentences. Those two always communicated in looks and gestures, swapping languages whenever they felt like it and ending up with some incoherent tangle of words that no one else could comprehend.

“Is there anything left in that?”

Benedikt glanced to his side, shaking the bottle to show Marshall. “One last swig. All yours.”

Marshall took the bottle. He put it to his lips and swung up, his head tipped to the sky and the line of his throat bared to the night. Benedikt shivered suddenly, a line of goosebumps rising at the back of his neck. The season had turned cold and the wind that blew onto his face was biting. He wrote off his shudder to the chill, to the temperature dropping with the longer they spent outside at such an hour.

Suddenly, Marshall was squinting into the distance. “Hey.” His call summoned Roma and Juliette’s attention from ahead, who both turned around to see what the matter was.

Marshall pointed to the dark shape off the end of the road. “Isn’t that the abandoned factory we lost to the Scarlets?”

“Is it?” Juliette asked, a sudden glee in her face.

“Why would you say that?” Roma bemoaned. He didn’t bother trying to stop her as Juliette hurried ahead, eager to explore the factory. “Look what you’ve done.”

But Marshall was wearing a similar expression, his eyes scanning the factory as they approached closer and closer. Wordlessly, he handed the bottle back to Benedikt, and though Benedikt’s head was spinning from the drink, he still recognized the exact face that Marshall made before he was going to get himself into trouble.

“Mars—”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he insisted, tipping his chin forward. Juliette had disappeared into the factory. “You two be look-out. We wouldn’t want someone finding us here, right?”

Benedikt scarcely had a second to argue back. Marshall was already hurrying off.

Inside the factory, Juliette trailed her hands along the dark walls, her eyes wide. The machines looked strange in the moonlight, but stranger while sitting so idle. She was used to seeing rows and rows of workers in the daytime, trailing after her father as he ran inspections on the work of their trade partners. It might have been the wine in her system, but everything seemed to sway: sitting so inactive in movement that her eyes were imagining movement.

“Pst.”

Juliette almost jumped out of her skin.

“Christ,” she muttered, whirling around with a hand on her heart. Marshall slunk out from the shadows, both his hands in his pockets. “You gave me a fright.”

“Me? Frightening?” Marshall picked up a strange object on the table, inspected it for several seconds, then set it back down. “I am the least frightening person on the planet.”

“Yes, well, when it’s so dark, even a cuddly teddy bear would be terrifying.” Juliette felt around her dress. She thought she had tucked her lighter in here somewhere. There were little pockets sewn around the sleeves and armholes that she kept all her weapons, though if anyone asked, she would say she had the ability to materialize them out of thin air.

“Do you scream often at teddy bears?”

“Only when they sneak up on me.”

“I don’t see you screaming at Roma.”

“He gets a special pass. He’s only a teddy bear on the inside.”

Marshall snorted. He leaned down, trying to read the paper taped down to the table. At last, Juliette found her lighter—it was actually in her sock—and she brought it close, thumbing down the sparkwheel for a flame.

“Do not touch—for demolishing,” Marshall read under the new light. “Are the Scarlets going to build something new here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Juliette replied. “My father doesn’t include me in his business meetings yet.”

“Hmm.” The shadows of the factory danced. Juliette thought she saw someone darting in her periphery, and she whirled around, but it was only Marshall’s shadow. Unfortunately, she had scared Marshall with her movement, and he bumped into her, asking, “What? What is it?”

The lighter flew out of her hands, landing on the paper.

“Nothing, nothing!” Juliette assured. “I was seeing things.”

But Marshall wasn’t convinced. He swiveled around. Peered hard into a corner. “Was it ghosts? I know this city has ghosts. All that death creates so many ghosts.”

Juliette tried to look where he was looking. She couldn’t see anything except the dark.

“There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“Just last week, I felt something walk by me and then there was no one when I looked. I swear to you, if it wasn’t ghosts then I—” Marshall stopped suddenly, turning around to look at the table. “Uh… is that supposed to happen?”

Juliette whirled around too. The whole table was on fire. “Oh, God.”

With a sudden pop, the fire sprung up and licked up to the walls. There had to be something sprayed inside the factory already to prepare for demolition, or else the flames would not be traveling with such intensive speed.

“Marshall,” Juliette said simply.

“Yes?”

She looked at him. “When the Montagovs ask, we blame the factory and say we have no idea what happened. Run!”

Benedikt and Roma kept watch in relative silence. Benedikt’s head was spinning, and his cousin looked like his head was doing the same if his swaying was any indication. Roma was humming softly under his breath, toeing the grass that grew around the abandoned factory.

Then, there was a sudden sound from inside, and the first tendrils of flames blew out from the topmost windows.

“Roma,” Benedikt said plainly. “I’m willing to bet my life savings that Juliette Cai just committed arson.”

Roma tilted his head up, his jaw dropping agape. At first, he could only stare at the growing fire, eating up the roof beams. Then, he said: “To be fair, it could have been Marshall.”

Benedikt threw his arms into the air. “Who looks more like the arson type, Juliette or Marshall?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“The answer was Juliette!”

Benedikt pinched the bridge of his nose. He was rapidly growing concerned, but before he could suggest they go in to search for the two, Juliette and Marshall ran out from the factory—laughing. The factory was burning down, and they were laughing, grasping at each other and spinning in circles right in front of the factory. They looked a sight: seconds away from collapsing atop of each other in utter delirium.

Benedikt turned to Roma. “Your girlfriend is a maniac.”

Roma was struggling to hold back his laugh watching her with Marshall. “I think she’s magnificent.”

Marshall stumbled, and Juliette squealed, reaching out to grab his arm before he could trip and land flat on his face. Benedikt almost—almost—let a smile slip. Before Roma could sight it and tease him for enjoying himself after all, he cleared his throat.

“What happened?” he bellowed.

“Faulty factory!” Marshall called back.

Benedikt shook his head, turning on his heel. They needed to get out of here before someone reported the fire.

“Come on!” he called back to the three. “Let’s go before the Municipal Police arrive.”

Upon Benedikt’s summons, Marshall left Juliette’s side and hurried to catch up. He slowed to a stroll once he was beside Benedikt, but Benedikt could feel Marshall watching him.

“What?” Benedikt asked. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his cousin was following too. Thankfully he was, though it was mostly Juliette hauling him along, their hands clasped together and swinging while Roma kept looking at the fire.

“I think you enjoyed yourself,” Marshall replied smugly. “After all that complaining about sneaking into Scarlet territory.”

Benedikt reached out and rapped his knuckles on Marshall’s skull. With a shriek, Marshall darted ahead.

“You want me to enjoy myself?” Benedikt shouted after him, breaking into a run too. “Come back then! Let me throttle you!”

FIN.

#these violent delights #romajuliette #benediktmarshall #how am i out here using my own book tags this feels weird FKJDHSDKJFH #should i tag my own name too #chloe gong #now i've gone and done it #bookblr #yabooks

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en-hale-archives · 3 years

Text

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

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johnsamericano · 3 years

Text

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •3•

I hope this ain't getting shitty. Thank you for reading, sexy people. Send me a message or an ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

warnings: hungover jaehyun, age gap, hospitals, nothing too extreme.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato @painted-hills

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

“Wake up, sunshine.” He groaned, all the memories from the past night hitting him like a truck. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

His eyelids finally fluttered open, frown softening at the sight of you in a messy bun and your cute pajamas.

“How come you look so fresh?” The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in the span of a few hours. Thank God he didn't have to work that day.

“I always look fresh.” You seemed to be more comfortable around him. Perhaps it was because you had to tuck him in last night. “Up.”

You tugged both of his limp hands, forcing him to sit up.

“What did you cook? It smells nice.” He scrunched up his nose like a little kid.

“Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.” Fast as lightning, he got up from bed. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed the blanket hanging from the edge of your sofa. Disappointment pinched his heart.

“Why didn't you sleep with me? You would've been more comfortable.”

You set two plates on the small table, pulling the pan out of the stove to serve them.

“You spread yourself all over the bed as soon as I laid you down.” You lied successfully. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t that comfortable yet.

You let the pan down on the kitchen counter, taking a seat in front of him.

“Do you still want to visit my father?” Sparkling orbs stared at him timidly, fearing his answer would be negative.

“I mean…” You hummed, trying not to give it as much importance. “I do want to go!” He quickly corrected himself, frantically shaking his hands. “It’s just that I don't want to meet your father like this.” He pointed at his bed hair, which had only become messier since he woke up.

“You’re acting like he's gonna see you.” There was a slight bitterness in your tone, along with a fake grin.

“Alright, let's do this instead...” Yoonoh sat up straight, clearing his throat as if he were about to give a speech. “We’ll have breakfast, you'll shower quickly, and then we’ll drive to my house so I can fix myself. How does that sound?”

“So I'm finally gonna see your mansion? How exciting.” You kicked his leg teasingly under the table, his cheeks inevitably dipping as he tried to suppress a smile. “I bet you have some peacocks in your backyard.”

“And there's also a dolphin in my pool.” He let out a hearty laugh, extending his arm over the table to grab your hand.

His house was most definitely not what you expected.

It was about the size of the one you grew up in, the decoration inside minimalistic. There were no expensive paintings framed with pure gold, only pictures of him and his family. There was a small backyard you could access through the French door in the kitchen. Half of it was occupied by a greenhouse.

“I had to donate the peacocks to the zoo.” He whispered as you looked through the glass door, squeezing your shoulders with his slim fingers.

“What a shame.” Hesitantly, he wrapped both of his limbs around your torso, letting his chin rest stop of your head. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly against your chest. Yoonoh surely felt it but decided not to comment on it.

“There’s a Tv in my room in case you want to watch something while I shower.” A hint of mischief adorned his honey-like voice. “Or you can come in and watch me instead.”

“Stop!” Your elbow connected with his ribs out of pure panic, making him bend in pain with his hands covering the injured spot.

“It was a joke...” He whispered, teeth gritting together.

I made him mad, you thought. Should you escape or face the consequences of his anger? All thoughts erased from your mind as he grabbed your calves, lifting you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with closed fists, unable to see the expression on his face. “Yoonoh!”

He went up the stairs, proceeding to enter his room and throw you on his bed. Thousands of dirty scenarios crossed your mind before he threw himself on top of you, crushing your bones under his muscular body.

“My...ribs...”

“Oh, sorry, what is that?” To make matters worse, his fingers tickled your sides, provoking a fit of desperate giggles to escape your mouth. “I’m not hearing an apology.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands finally stopped, giving you time to breathe. Nonetheless, he remained laid on your chest, using his forearms to lift his weight. “Aren’t you gonna shower?”

“I like you.”

The confession was so sudden, so raw it took you some time to finally react. But you had no words to give him an answer, instead, you combed your fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp while waiting for him to speak up again.

“I never thought I'd be feeling more than friendly affection for you. Our agreement doesn't include love, after all. But I've started feeling like a teenager all over again. I can't help but get excited whenever you call me. Do you know how sweet your voice sounds through the phone?” He sighed, discouraged at your lack of response. “I guess you're not there yet.”

Instead of verbally answering, you planted a sweet kiss on his head, right where small, grey hairs had started growing.

“I’m not good with words.”

“That’s alright.” He snuck his hands under your back, holding you tightly as a sudden need to nurture you took over him. The mature image he had of you faded in less than a second, leaving behind a young, troubled woman. “I’ll shower quickly so we can go see your pops. I bet we’ll get along just fine, maybe even go golfing when he wakes up.”

“I forgot you're almost the same age. Creepy.” He smiled, though uneasiness started steering in his guts.

“Does that bother you?” He asked without giving it a second thought.

“I don't know yet.”

(...)

The man with high cheekbones and bruised skin laid limp on the hospital bed. Yoonoh had been working on his case for about a month, yet, it only started feeling real the moment he entered the room.

“This is my dad.” All emotions had escaped your eyes as if your soul wasn't there anymore. Only an empty shell.

“You look so much like him.” he was afraid touching you wouldn't be the right thing to do, so instead, he said: “He seems like a suitable golf buddy.”

Tension finally loosened its grip around his body as you snorted, pigment returning to your cheeks. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“He will wake up, y/n.”

“He’s taking his sweet time.” You glanced back at the laying figure, skinnier with every day he spent asleep. “I want someone to pay for taking away the last person that loved me.”

The last person that loved you. Would Yoonoh be able to fill that spot? Not yet, probably. He couldn't modify the depth of his feelings, but he could surely give you the vengeance you longed.

“Do you trust me?” With your eyes still glued to your father, you nodded. “Then I can assure you we’ll win the case.”

“I know we will.”

He sat silently with you, holding your hand without saying a word. The smell of alcohol and the beeping noise of machines made him nauseous. He hated hospitals. You noticed the change in his demeanor, his hand becoming cold while holding yours with strength.

“Do you wanna go?”

“No!” He smiled through the pain, scooting his chair closer to lay your hand on his lap.

He wouldn't agree to get his ass off the plastic chair. You had to tell him you were hungry for him to finally stand up, still clutching your hand like your father did when you were still a kid. His parental behavior caused several emotions to stir inside your guts, so mixed up you couldn't quite put a finger on any of them.

“What do you want to eat?” The tension finally left his body once out of the building.

“Soup.” You smiled while swiping your thumb on top of his knuckles. “I know a place, but to be honest, it isn't good. So we can go to the store and get the ingredients to- but you can't cook.”

“I’m up for a cooking lesson if you are.” He wanted to see your pretty smile again. Maybe making a fool of himself would help. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Wow, so cool.”

“I know.”

(...)

“Can you grab that can of chicken broth?” You pointed at the high shelf, letting go of Yoonoh’s hand to allow him to move freely

“I have a better idea.” He dragged you by the arm so you were standing in front of him, trapped between his body and the shelf. “I’ll lift you so you can reach it.” Matching his words, his hands grasped your waist, ready to carry you.

“Stop!” You slapped his hands repeatedly between giggles. Ignoring your complaints, he started lifting you. “Yoonoh!”

“Yoonoh?” A feminine voice had him placing you back on your feet in less than a second.

“Seryeong, I didn't expect to see you here.” His hands remained seated on the curve of your waist.

“Neither did I. I was surprised when Sungchan told me you'd left early yesterday.” She seemed a bit older than you but still younger than the man behind you.

“I had some matters to take care of.” She eyed you from head to toes with a smug grin plastered on her lips. Just by the look of her clothes, you could tell she was as wealthy as Yoonoh. You feared the scene would turn into a tv worthy drama.

“I’ll go get the chicken breast.” You tried escaping his grip, only to be pulled closer to his warmth.

“No need to. It's already inside the cart.”

Why am I so dumb?

“Does your father know about your little girlfriend?” She asked without hesitation.

“I guess.”

“And why didn't he tell me anything?” She cocked an eyebrow, his hands finally loosening around your body and allowing you to move from your position.

“Look, this is something you should talk about with him. Now, if you excuse us...” With a hand on your shoulder, he began pushing the cart to the next aisle, the chicken broth long forgotten.

“Is this some kind of arranged marriage situation?”

“Something like that.” His hands were tense while holding the cart, knuckles turning white from the strength used. “Before you start asking, I'm not really in the mood and I don't want to direct my bad mood toward you. Let's talk about something else, alright?”

Who was that woman that had the power to turn him into a literal raging ball of fire with just a few words?

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #nct jaehyun #nct fluff #nct jung yoonoh

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sturchling · 3 years

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could do a fan fiction where Lila and marinette were actually best friends but were faking to see who were good friends or not. If you do , do it pls take your time I don’t want to rush you

Also look at the taco I made

Sorry this took so long! I know you said not to rush, but still! Thanks for being patient! Hope you like it, and that is a interesting looking taco. Definitely different from my family's style of taco! Hope you enjoy the story!

Marinette had been attending a creative arts summer program for several years. The program was based out of London and kids from all over Europe would attend for different styles of creative arts. Marinette's grandmother would always make sure to be in London during the month of this program and Marinette would stay with her while the program was happening. Marinette often found herself excited for this one month away from Paris. Sure she loved being with her parents and friends, but it was nice to get away to a place nobody knew you for a while. She never even told her class where she went for that one month out of the summer. It was great.

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

Marinette made a lot of friends at the program, but she loved to hang out with Lila. She was studying theater at the program while Marinette studied fashion design. Lila was always so fun to hang out with, and they would spend hours just working on their different projects. Marinette working on her newest design, while Lila refined her monologues. Marinette was always amazed by Lila's acting. Its like she became a completely different person with each new piece Lila was practicing. It was very impressive.

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

Over the last few years, Marinette was starting to feel as though her friends in Paris weren't real friends. She started to notice how they only really wanted to hang out when they needed her to design or bake something. And they would often ask for things last minute, not thinking about Marinette's schedule, or even offering to pay for the supplies. Marinette didn't want to think that of her classmates, but it was getting difficult to ignore. Especially this year, because the amount of requests they had made had nearly tripled. Marinette was thrilled when it was time to head to her summer program and she could get away from Paris for a while.

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

Lila noticed pretty quickly that Marinette seemed different this year. She seemed more down, and more quiet then previous years. "Marinette? Is something wrong? You seem quiet..." Marinette snapped out of her trance and looked up at Lila. "Sorry Lila, I'm alright.." Lila put down her script, and sat down next to Marinette. "Come on Marinette. I can tell when you are lying. There is a reason I am in the acting program and you aren't." That got Marinette to laugh a little and for a moment she was just the happy Marinette that Lila knew. But the smile quickly faded. "Ok, I'll tell you." Marinette told Lila everything. How the class had been treating her and all of her doubts. "I just don't know if they really think of me as a friend, or if they are just using me. And I don't want to ask, because if they do think of me as a friend, I could offend them by asking. I just don't know what to do!" Lila thought for a moment, unsure of how to help her friend. She went home to think about it for the night, when her mother gave her the best news.

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

The next day, Lila rushed to Marinette and told her the news. "What? Your mom said you guys are moving to Paris for a year? That's awesome!" Lila was smiling, happy to see Marinette smiling. "And, best of all, we can fix these doubts. I can pretend to be the world's worst liar. I'll try and trick the class into believing my lies, and if they fall for it, then I will try to convince them to ditch you in exchange for favors and VIP treatment. If they ditch you, then they weren't really your friends and you will know for sure. If they don't, then they really care about you and you won't have to worry anymore." Marinette agreed to the plan, and they started to plan out all the little details and the lies Lila would use on the class. By the time the program was over for the summer and Marinette returned to Paris, they had a perfect plan. All that was left was to wait for school to start.

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

The school year had started, and Lila had just arrived. She wasted no time and started to wow the students with all of her 'amazing achievements'. Soon the whole school was fawning over her, with hardly any effort on Lila's part. Lila was thankfully in Mrs. Bustier's class, so that would make the plan much easier. Just as they discussed, Marinette spent most of the next few weeks trying to tell everyone that Lila was lying to them, to see if they would believe Lila or Marinette. When Marinette first voiced her concerns this past summer, Lila was sure her friend was just overthinking things. Sure the class was obviously inconsiderate from what Marinette had told Lila, but she was sure the class really thought of Marinette as a friend.

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

Oh, how quickly Lila was proven wrong. It only took a few weeks for the entire class to very clearly side with Lila. They told Marinette that she was just jealous of Lila and that Lila wasn't lying. While Lila's hope for the class was diminishing with each passing day, she clung to the hope that maybe the class was just gullible, but would stick with Marinette when it mattered. Now that the class had obviously decided to believe Lila, the two girls moved to the next stage of the plan. Lila started to tell the class that Marinette was harassing and bullying her. She offered the class no proof of these claims, just told them it happened. And to Lila's surprise, the class instantly believed her and dumped Marinette immediately. They isolated Marinette and nobody would talk to her. All because Lila said so.

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

Lila was truly horrified. She couldn't believe that Marinette's class ditched her like that. After talking it over with Marinette, they decided on one more test. Just to be sure that the class had truly sided with Lila for her 'connections and favors'. Lila was going to 'apologize' and reveal to the class that she had been lying and she didn't know all these people. But that was the only lie she would reveal. She would stick by what she said about Marinette bullying her. Would the class continue to defend Lila against a bully? Would they apologize to Marinette for believing a liar? Or would they instantly go back to Marinette like nothing happened?

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

The next day, Lila made the reveal. She told the class she lied about her celebrity connections, made a tearful and sincere apology, said that she had just thought no one would like her so she made herself seem more important to help make friends, but made it clear that Marinette was bullying her. "I am really sorry! I was just scared about moving to a new country and was desperate to make friends. But Marinette figured it out and has been so mean to me ever since, so I was afraid how you guys would react if I told you. But you guys have been so nice, I really hope we can stay friends and I will do anything to make it up to you guys!" The class' reaction was instant. They instantly turned their backs on Lila and made her the class outcast. While that is bad, if they had apologized to Marinette, that would have made it kind of ok. But instead, they just started talking to Marinette again. They tried to act like nothing happened and they hadn't ditched Marinette for a liar. Like they hadn't believed a girl they hardly knew over their 'close friend'. Like they hadn't thought the worst in Marinette just because of Lila. That was the final straw for Marinette. It was clear to her that the class didn't really think of her as a friend. Or at the very least, they didn't treat her like a friend. And Marinette was done with it.

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

Marinette decided to leave Dupont behind completely. She and Lila revealed their real plan to the class and left the school for good. She switched to a different school in the city that had a fantastic arts program. With her portfolio, the school quickly accepted her. Marinette was in her new school by Monday. Lila switched with her, and the two girls spent the rest of Lila's year in Paris having a great time at their new school. When it was time for Lila to leave, Marinette saw her and her mother to the airport, promising to see Lila at the summer program in two weeks. As she got back to the bakery one day, right before she left for London, she saw the class standing outside. They tried to apologize and ask to be friends again, but Marinette shut that down fast. "No. I am not coming back to Dupont, and we aren't friends anymore. It isn't just about Lila. Lila just made it clear that we haven't been friends for a very long time. I am happy at my new school. I have found real friends, that treat me like a friend would. And its all thanks to my real best friend, Lila. Now, please go. I have to pack for the summer." With that, Marinette went inside and closed the door on her old fake friends.

#ml #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #lila rossi #lila rossi sugar #lila sugar #ml class salt #class salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt #miraculous salt fic #miraculous salt fanfic

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catxsnow · 3 years

Text

PAPA BEAR R.H.

Request: I'm so happy that you want to write the request! Anywho, my idea was basically that the reader works as a nanny for Lian while Roy is off doing vigilanting. And Lian gets attached to them while Roy is busy falling for them (mostly because they love his daughter as much as he does). In other words, I crave domestic bliss and would for you to right it. Thank you so much for taking in my request! As a writer myself I know it can be quite draining. I hope you enjoy this one. Heart anon :)

Warning: fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of roy getting injured

A/N: This one was so soft I loved writing it.

Word Count: 3.8k

Roy Harper moved into the apartment complex only a couple of months after you had. He and his daughter weren't the quietest of neighbors, but they were always kind nonetheless. You could hear their laughter early in the morning when walking by their door to work and the thumping of them running around to play.

Within the first month of him moving in, he knocked on your door twice. The first time was actually his daughter, Lian, who left a quiet knock. You barely heard it and when you couldn't see anyone through the peek hole - you opened it to find the cutest little girl with a smile on her face staring up at you.

She introduced herself to you, and mentioned that she and her father had seen you several times in the building. Roy popped his head out of his home only moments later with worry filling him. You waved at his appearance and quickly put together that Lian snuck out to see you.

He was ready to get mad for having Lian talk to strangers, even if you did seem like a good person. The sound of her giggle as you called Roy "angry papa bear" stopped him from doing so. It was a silly joke, but having Lian smile and laugh like that made it impossible to be mad.

That was the first time that you met them.

Almost exactly a week later they showed up again. The pair stood side by side with a container in hand. Lian wanted to make cookies for 'the pretty next-door neighbour' and Roy found himself wanting to meet you again, for longer than just a couple minutes that time.

From that moment on Lian couldn't stop talking about you. She was always trying to convince her father to go over so that she could play with you. The three of your spent hours together. Going for ice cream, pizza nights, every little kid's dream. There were countless times that Roy apologized for taking up so much of your time, but the change was pleasant.

Your first impression of Roy was right, he was a big papa bear. It seemed he dedicated his life to his daughter. Always sought for the best, always trying to make the best life for her. There was nothing more that he wanted than for her to be happy.

Roy asked you to babysit Lian one night. It was clear he was in a rush and had no other options. Though you hadn't planned to be left alone with a four-year-old that evening, you couldn't say no to Roy. Whatever he had to do, clearly it was important by how frantic he was.

So, Lian ended up in your living room, cuddled up on the couch with you and a movie playing on the TV. She was eager to spend time with you, but you couldn't help but be worried about why Roy was in such a need to drop his child off with you and run. He had never acted like that before.

"Do you know where your dad went?" curiosity had finally gotten the best of you. Lian was barely awake in your arms. It was late at night and Roy hadn't made any notice of when he was going to be back - not that you minded watching her for the whole night but where could he possibly be?

"I'm not really supposed to tell you, but," Lian looked around the room as if to check if anyone appeared in the room within the last two minutes. She gestured for you to lower down to her level and cupper her little hands around your ear. "Daddy saves the world, he goes by Arsenal." Her pronunciation of his hero name came out slurred, though you could clearly understand. "He's a superhero."

It was easy to guess she was joking at first. Every little kid looked up to their parents as heroes. She couldn't have been any different. However, the longer you thought about it the more you realized she was telling the truth. Roy avoided wearing T-shirts around you and the times that he did you couldn't help but notice the scars on his skin.

His quick reaction time whenever you nearly dropped something was impeccable, and he always seemed to notice the smallest details from a mile away. Maybe it was possible that Roy, the big angry papa bear was Arsenal. You wouldn't know until you asked him - a conversation that he was surely going to avoid.

Lian fell asleep on you before you could ask any more questions. Apparently, you took too long to comment on her revelation. Roy, as Arsenal? You heard a little bit about the hero, but nothing as much as Batman or Superman. He used to work with Green Arrow, went off to fight the world by himself - sort of.

That was about as much as you knew of Arsenal. It was a rare occasion to know more about the man under the mask than in it. If she was evening speaking the truth - then again what reason did she have to lie?

By the time the movie was over, you were nearly asleep right alongside Lian. The little girl hadn't stirred since she fell asleep. A knock at your front door jolted you awake. By the erratic tapping, you were sure it was Roy. Light from the hall poured into the room when he opened it after your welcome.

Your finger was held up to your lips to tell him to be quiet. It was already so late in the night and you didn't want Lian to wake. Roy sat down in the chair across from you. He winced, as if his muscles had been overworked - or if he had taken several hits too many. The bright light of the TV shone on his face, illuminating the dark bruise that was starting to form under his eye.

"I can't thank you enough for watching over her," Roy told you. "How was she?"

"An angel, like always," your smoothed down some of her hairs that had been sticking up. A sleepy smile was stuck on her face.

"She likes you, a lot," Roy looked exhausted. It was clear that he wanted to go to bed and pass out. The one reason that he was chatting was to be polite. "You know, the day that she came over for the first time, she had been bugging me all morning to go see 'the pretty lady next door'."

"Well I can't complain that she took matters into her own hands. Who knows how long it would have taken you," you grinned. Even in the dark light you could see the flush rise to his cheeks. He was an attractive man - and you often times wondered what happened to Lian's mother. Was she still in the picture? Were they married? Did she know about Arsenal?

"Lian told me something pretty interesting tonight, Roy," you cleared your throat. It might not have been the best time to address the issue, but you would surely lose the courage if you waited any longer. "She said that you run off at night being a superhero. Arsenal, to be exact."

"You know kids, always with their crazy stories," Roy was quick to try and cover up Lian's exposure. He was taken aback that his kid was so quick to spill secrets - they had gone over it dozens of times - she couldn't tell anyone. Even the pretty neighbour who they saw nearly every day.

"Cut the crap," you stared at his bruise. Roy let out a defeated breath. He ran his hands down his face - less than half a year of knowing you and you had already found out his secret. Oliver wouldn't be impressed. "You don't have to lie to me, you can trust me. Clearly, you do, or you wouldn't have left Lian with me for the whole night."

"She shouldn't have told you."

"I'm glad she did." Lian shuffled against your side. Her arm that was tucked into her chest stretched across you like she was giving you a hug. Roy smiled at the gesture. "I was worried about you tonight. You left in a rush and I didn't know what had happened to you. Lian was worried too.

"I won't tell anyone if you're worried," you assured. "Actually I'm kinda glad to hear that your scars are from being Arsenal not something like being in a gang." Roy chuckled at your confession.

"You're taking this all quite well." You shrugged. It always seemed like he had a secret or two, you just weren't expecting something like this. "Thank you, for understanding - and for taking care of Lian. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, Roy."

Roy took full advantage of you knowing his secret. He didn't need to come up with some lie on where he was going or why. Instead, he could drop Lian off at your door with a simple "gotta go" and you'd understand that the world was in trouble. Roy was grateful for you, for understanding and to be so willing to help him take care of Lian.

It wasn't just babysitting anymore, you were nearly just as big of a part of raising Lian as he was. She looked forward to seeing you each time, never did she feel like it was something that she had to do. They both looked up to you.

A hot Saturday afternoon, after a night of wreckage that you and Lian had created in your apartment, Roy decided to take you both out for ice cream. He had come back to your home to find that every blanket and cushion in your apartment had been pulled out to make a massive fort that covered your entire living room. The mattress from your bed had been pulled off and was surrounded by blankets.

Although your home was a mess, he found the both of you asleep with the title scene of Lian's favourite movie on. Crumbs of cookies were scattered everywhere, along with half-eaten plates of french fries. Clearly, the both of you had a wild night and Roy couldn't bring himself to wake either of you.

Lian had talked about her night all morning the next day and how much she loved to spend time with you. Roy thought it to be the perfect opportunity to take you out for an afternoon you deserved. It wasn't much, but the thought was there and you appreciated his efforts.

There was a small, pop up ice-cream shop in the park Lian adored. It was her favourite place to get ice cream because she could sit on the park bench and watch all the ducks in the pond. Her little mind was still so pure and the quacks of the baby ducks had her a giggling mess.

Each of her hands were held in yours and Roy's. She's do a running start before getting the both of you to swing her up into the air. Your arms were tired by the time that she finally had enough of the movement - unlike Roy who seemed perfectly fine. Using that bow of his left his arms huge.

"What kind of ice cream are you going to get?" You asked Lian. She hummed, deep in thought like it was the toughest decision he would ever have to make in her life.

"Chocolate!" She finally decided on. Roy chuckled at the answer, it was what she got every time they went out for ice cream. He tickled her sides for a moment before hoisting her up onto his shoulders. Lian's arms stuck out like she was an airplane and the smile never left her face.

Roy was a great dad, that was easy to tell. It was hard not to be attracted to the fatherly side of him. He seemed like a different person when he was with his kid and when he was talking to you about the stress of the life he lived. Lian had really brought you both together and you were quick to call him one of your closest friends.

Many nights he would come over after Lian was asleep just to hang out with you. It was refreshing talking to someone outside the Titans. Not to mention that he adored how you cared for his daughter. In the year that you had known them, you took her in like she was your own. Even her own mother couldn't achieve that love anymore.

You reminded him of the life he could have, if he ever wanted to get out of the hero game. Settle down with Lian, have the white picket fence life that he always mocked for years. Would it really be that bad? To live without worrying whether or not he was going to make it out alive the next day? To find someone that he could love?

Your phone rang just as you were about to reach the ice cream shop. It wasn't uncommon for your boss to call you on the weekend, however whenever he did it was usually important. "I'm sorry, I have to answer this, I'll just be a minute." Roy nodded in understatement. He knew the burden of responsibilities more than anyone.

"Daddy?" Lian spoke. Roy grabbed her once more and lifted her back down to the ground. He knelt down to her level so that she didn't have to look up. "If you're my papa bear," she hadn't started to use that term until you started referring to Roy with it. "Does that make (Y/N) mama bear?"

Roy was taken aback by her comment. Although he knew that you and Lian were very close, he never expected she would look up to you as her own mother. Jade wasn't in Lian's life anymore, and she was far too young to remember what she was like. You had been the closest thing to a mother in Lian's life.

The more he thought about it, the more he was glad to have you as a mother fill in for Lian. It wasn't just the will to take care of her when Roy dropped her off, you went above and beyond to make her life good. Lian wasn't a burden that had been shoved into your life because of knowing a secret, she was a blessing.

Just as you were a blessing in Roy's life.

Roy was grateful for the nights that you stayed up with him, talking, listening, whatever he needed you were there. It was so easy to open up to you, more than Dick or Donna or anyone on the team. You didn't have to be there for him, you choose to be because you wanted to be.

You baked cookies with Lian on a Sunday morning because you wanted to. You helped to bandage Roy up after a hard night because you wanted to. You cooked supper for them both when Roy was having trouble to keep up with his life because of being Arsenal because you wanted to, not because you needed to.

Being part of his life was sudden, but you wouldn't want it any other way. And truth was, Roy wasn't sure if he could keep up both of his lives without your help.

"I didn't think she was ever going to fall asleep." You fell down on the couch next to Roy. He called you over when Lian refused to fall asleep unless it was you putting her to bed. She requested story after story and wouldn't settle until you promised that you would come over again to make pancakes in the morning.

His arms stretched along the back of the couch and as you leaned your head back you rested on him. Eyes shut, lips parted, Roy didn't notice that he was staring until you let out a sigh. He couldn't stop thinking about Lian's comment. It was clear that she looked up to you as a mother, but did you feel the same?

Or more so, did you only care about Lian, and not him? It couldn't be. You spent nearly just as much time with Roy as you did his daughter. The moment that they walked into your life you were consumed by them. It was hard not to be, they added so much joy.

"Did she get you to promise to come back in the morning again?" Roy asked. Without opening your eyes, you nodded. He wasn't surprised.

"I may as well live here at this point, the only time I'm ever in my own home is to sleep," you joked. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, to live with Roy and Lian. You were more than just a babysitter, you were practically family. Roy knew everything about you, and you him. Living together almost seemed normal.

"I'd like that," Roy confessed. He had full intentions to say that Lian would like it if you were to move in. The idea of it probably had him just as excited as his daughter would be.

"Would you?" You cocked an eyebrow. He wanted that excuse to spend more time with you, to be with you. Throughout the year you grew to love Lian, he had completely fallen in love with you, without even realizing it. You made his family feel complete once more. You made him feel complete.

Roy wanted to wake up with you every morning. He wanted to sit around and drink coffee while Lian told you both about her dreams that night. He wanted to come home after a long night's mission to find you cuddled up in his bed, half asleep and waiting for him. Roy wanted to have a life with you.

You looked over at him, waiting for his response. His pale skin was tinged pink, eyes filled with worry of rejection. Worried that you loathed the idea, or more so, didn't feel the same way about him.

How could you? Roy had managed to steal your heart right alongside Lian. You missed his presence when he wasn't around, and when you were together the time spend never seemed long enough.

"(Y/N), I..." Roy tried to grasp the words that were right at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell her that this past year of knowing her had been the best year of his life. He never wanted to lose this happiness that he had with you. Instead, he stuttered over his words, flustered. "Fuck."

Roy's palms grasped your cheeks. He gave you just a moment to express if you didn't want this, a moment too long. Your lips were needy against his, this moment had far too long waited for either of you. Your fingers threaded through the hair on the back of his head, keeping him close against you.

His arm snaked around you, gesturing for you to lower yourself on the couch. Not once did he break the kiss to hover over you, trapping you beneath his frame. Any exhaustion that you had was wiped away entirely. Every nerve in your body was lit up from his touch.

"Stay with me?" Roy asked. He gave you no time to answer, his lips back on yours the second that he was done asking his question. You couldn't leave, not when you already couldn't get enough of him. His lips, his touch, everything, it wasn't enough.

"Yes," you latched onto the hem of his shirt, tugging it up until he got the hint to take it off completely. "Your room. Now."

You and Roy were up far earlier than Lian the next morning.

Even though your night had been long you still found yourself excited to wake up the next morning. You were excited to wake up next to him. Limbs draped over you, warm breath at the back of your neck. Light kisses left against your bare skin as Roy awoke shortly after you did.

Your brief time in bed that morning was short. The last thing that you needed was Lian walking in on the both of you naked. So, you had gotten up to keep with your promise to her. Pancakes.

"Didn't know you were the clingy kind, Harper. Not that I'm complaining," you joked. He barely took his hands off you all morning. Holding you flat against his chest as you cooked breakfast, soft kisses that warmed you completely. "Go wake up Lian, everything's ready and you know she doesn't like cold pancakes."

Roy kissed you again before doing as he was told. His lips lingering, wondering if he needed the extra few minutes with you before Lian joined you. You pressed against his chest to make the decision for him. He had gotten more than enough love the past ten hours to need just a moment more.

He returned moments later, arms full with Lian. She got excited when noticing you with a plate full of pancakes. Roy set her down in her chair before taking a seat on his own. You kissed the top of her head, then his.

"I could get used to this," Roy spoke with his mouth full. Lian scolded him, her finger shaking at him and a pout on her face. He swallowed before continuing. "If you were serious about your offer last night."

It was a big jump for the both of you, even if it was true that you had basically been living together for quite a while now. He wasn't worried about Lian disagreeing with the idea, she would love it. In fact, he was sure that if she knew about the offer there was no possibility of you saying no.

You grabbed Roy's hand from under the table. Moving in wasn't something that you needed to rush. Being right next door, it was easy to see each other whenever anyways. Rushing something that you wanted to last was never the safest option, and you wanted whatever the hell you had going on with Roy Harper to last a lifetime.

"I was," you answered. "One day."

taglist : @pricetagofficial @mora-miserium @babymango-writes @redrobin-yumm @simp-is-what-i-am @catsofsmoke @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires @pinkdiamond1016 @childish-kiwi @givetimdrakeacoffee @gunnedrobin @local-fandom-trashcan @bikoncon @foenixphire @unknowntoanyone @screennamealreadyused

#roy harper #roy harper x reader #roy harper one shot #roy harper imagine #roy harper fanfic #roy harper x you #lian harper #arsenal #dc #dc comics #dc fanfiction #dc one shot #dc imagine

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luffles424 · 3 years

Text

Moonlight

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, post breakup au, actor!seokjin, fashion designer!reader, exes to lovers

☼ Count: 3.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

☼ Summary: Seokjin has been back in your life for 5 years now. It’s a different future than what you had imagined, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. What else does the future hold for you?

☼ Drabble/epilogue to Sunrise

☼ a/n: Surprise! So many people were asking and curious about what happened and I got a little brain worm of an idea of what the future holds for the Sunrise pair! This can probably be read as a stand alone if you didn’t want to read the first part. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

Excitement bubbles in your belly as you smooth the front of your dress down, hand pausing for just a moment on your belly as you give yourself one final once-over in the mirror. You’re so happy that you finally got to wear the sunset dress again. Although you have no idea what you’re wearing it for.

Seokjin has been tightlipped about his plans for you tonight. He simply told you to dress up, hinted to you to wear this specifically. He’d seen it a while ago one night when he was over, hanging in your closet. You’d told him why when he questioned why you had it hanging up, though he’d shyly told you that he had seen you wear it already. When you said you’d kept it because you wanted to wear it again, he got a gleam in his eye that you never quite understood. At least, until now with his not so subtle hints to wear it.

You smile thinking about him. It’s been a lot of work to get to this point. But it’s been so worth it. No matter the length of time. You’ve treasured every single moment.

You had spent about 2 years getting to know each other again. There was a thrill in learning Seokjin all over again. To discover the little things about the man he grew into. Hearing stories about the years you missed. Stories about friends you hadn’t kept in touch with but he had. You shared stories from friends you’d kept close but he had lost contact with. Every time you two were together was a fun adventure in discovery.

And for all the new things you were learning about him. He could still make you laugh just as easy and it was so easy to still joke with him. The new and old blended to make the Seokjin before you and it was simple to start falling for him all over again.

Then, one day, Seokjin stopped by your place unannounced and asked you out. He was panting, like he’d sprinted the whole way there and his confession was rushed out in one long breath and you only caught half of it. It took everything in you not to laugh at the wild look in his eye as he rambled, but as funny as it was, it was hopelessly endearing.

You couldn’t deny that it felt right, so you said yes. The easiest decision you had ever said yes to. Now, almost 3 years later, you’re still going strong. Far stronger than you ever were in university. You’ve both learned a lot from the past. For all that you have problems, like any human, you’ve gotten better at communicating through it. You know when you need to take a break, get some space to sit with your feelings and be able to put them into words. And it’s done wonders to make things work smoother.

You rack your brain, trying to figure out if maybe you’re missing some important date. An anniversary? No, that was less than two months ago. Seokjin took you to a private beach. Not that either of you saw much of the beach with how adamant Seokjin seemed to keep you in bed with him.

You shudder as another orgasm courses through your body. “Seokjin…” you whine.

You get a hum in response but his face remains firmly buried in your pussy, where he’s been for at least an hour and several orgasms at this point. You’d protested by your third one, whining for his cock. But Seokjin had simply pressed a sloppy kiss to your thigh as he took a moment to explain that tonight was all about you.

Apparently all about you meant he was going to make you cum until you passed out. Your entire body tingled, some weird mix between being numb and feeling like every nerve was electrified. Deliriously, your fingers tighten in his hair and tug, harder than you intend if his sharp inhale against you is anything to go by.

“Baby, please…” You give him another tug.

If you weren’t so weak, you would push him until you could climb on his dick yourself. Chuckling, Seokjin finally pulls away, face smeared with your slick and face equal parts pleased and smug.

“Want my dick that bad?” he teases.

You glare. “I will go find the nearest sex shop and buy a dildo. At least it wouldn’t get mouthy.”

Seokjin’s grin is bright as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he swoops down to pepper your face with kisses. “You like my mouth.” He presses a firm kiss to your lips, lining his hips with yours and letting his cock settle against your soaked slit. His smile softens and he presses a far gentler kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You give his hair another tug. “I’d love you more if you put your dick in me.”

He blinks at you before erupting into squeaky laughter. “You ruined it.”

“I ruined nothing. You’re still hard as a rock.”

To prove your point, your grind against him, making you both gasp at the pressure. Seokjin ignores the comment, choosing instead to finally give you what you’ve been wanting. He pulls his hips back ever so slightly, just enough to position himself at your entrance and then he’s pressing forward, filling you with one languid stroke.

He keeps his pace just as slowly as he ate you out. Taking his time and ensuring you feel every inch and shift of his cock inside you. He cums what feels like an eternity later, filling you further. He keeps himself buried in you, kissing you slowly and deeply, pouring every ounce of love for you into it.

So definitely not your anniversary. Neither of your birthday’s are near. Neither of you have had any recent accomplishments that need to be celebrated. You suppose he could just want to take you out, one of his new favorite things is taking you on dates whenever your schedules allow it.

You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t need elaborate dates. But he seems to know how much you do enjoy being spoiled by him, even as you protest it. Though at some point he did seem to realize that you also love nights spent at home, curled up with him on the couch together. And he’s been all too happy to flex his improved cooking skills. You’ve definitely enjoyed learning that new aspect of him too. University hadn’t been conducive to cooking elaborately. Money was often tight and so what you ate often was prepared or frozen with the occasional nicer meal when finances worked in your favor.

Tonight feels different though. There’s something about the secrecy and meticulous planning that makes this seem different than just a regular date night. You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what he has planned for you. If Seokjin didn’t want you to know, there would be no way for you to try and figure out what the secret was.

You check your phone, seeing that Seokjin should be here soon and so you move out to the living room to wait for him. You’re so thankful that you got to meet Seokjin again. You’re even more thankful that you had the time apart to grow on your own. While the break up was painful and rough when it happened and for a while after. You wouldn’t be the person you are now without it. It makes the relationship now that much more special.

No matter what news or plans Seokjin has, you have your own to share to make the night happy. Your hand rests on your belly once more, a small smile on your face.

There’s a brief knock at the door and then it’s opening, Seokjin beaming when he sees you standing in the living room. You let your hand drop from your belly.

“Wow,” he breaths, eyes slowly tracing over your frame. “You look… stunning.”

You grin, giving him a slow look up and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He chuckles, finally coming closer and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I had a lot of help from this pretty amazing designer.”

You feel a pleased rush run through you and you return the kiss eagerly. It’s easy to get lost in the kiss and you almost want to tell him to just forget about whatever he has planned in favor of spending the evening in bed. But Seokjin pulls away, a slightly bewildered smile on his face when you try to follow.

“Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

“For what?”

He just raises an eyebrow at you and you huff. He honestly can’t blame you for trying to get some sort of hint or answer about his plans. Taking your hand, he presses his lips to your knuckles before entwining your fingers. He leads you out to the waiting car, helps you into the back, carefully ensuring that your dress is safely tucked inside the car before he’s moving to the other side and sliding in beside you.

The drive is almost silent, save for the soft music filtering through the speakers. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, deciding to just enjoy being with him again. He’s been busy the last few weeks with a new film and this is the first evening he’s been free to be with you that isn’t just takeout and the couch. Or bed depending on how tired either of you are.

Seokjin gently shakes you awake some time later and you blink blearily at him for a moment. His smile is endearingly fond as he waits for your brain to kick back on after your impromptu nap. You’ve been so tired lately.

“Are we here?”

He laughs and brushes a kiss to your forehead. “Yes, baby, we are.”

Once he believes that you’ll stay awake, he gets out, circling around to your side and helping you out of the car. You look around with a frown, unfamiliar with where you are. You’re in front of a tall building, windows reflecting the sunset. The building is unmarked and that leaves you even more confused.

Smiling at your confusion, he takes your hand and leads you forward into the building. The elevator ride has anticipation building in your belly. Seokjin always plans the best surprises. He’s only grown more thoughtful and kind with age.

Finally the elevator dings open, revealing a restaurant lobby.

Except the lobby is empty, most of the lights off. Are they closed? You turn toward Seokjin, brows furrowed in confusion.

He grins, gesturing towards the wall behind the host stand where the restaurant name is lit up, the brightest of the lights in the room currently. Moonlight.

“So… Me and Seokjung are opening a restaurant. Well, he’s doing all the hard work. I’m just an investor. It opens in a couple of weeks.”

You grin. You know Seokjung’s wanted to open a restaurant for the longest time. The Kim brother’s definitely shared a love of cooking and food. You can’t believe he’s hidden this from you. But knowing him, he wanted everything perfectly in place before he revealed it to you. Which seems to be tonight. “Seokjin, that’s amazing!”

He nods. “Seokjung’s ecstatic…”

Tilting your head, you inspect him slowly. “If it’s not open, then why are we here?”

Shyly, Seokjin leads you past the lobby into the dining area. It’s massive, so much bigger than you would have thought it would be, given how the building looks from the outside. The most stunning thing is the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the ocean. You didn’t know you were so close to the shore.

Without thinking, you move to the window, looking out over the sunset. The view is just as stunning as you thought it would be.

“It took months to find the right place. Seokjung was getting so frustrated that I kept saying no to every place he suggested. But I had this vision for it. This vision. Something I could bring the love of my life to. That felt like home to us... And everyone else,” he adds belatedly.

You look at him over your shoulder. He’s such a sap. You reach a hand out and he takes it, letting you pull him beside you. You’re both silent for a long moment, looking out at the gorgeous view.

“Seokjin, I’m-”

“We’ve been-”

You both start at the same time, laughing when you both stop.

You gesture for him to continue. “You go first, baby. You planned all this, you’ve clearly had this for a lot longer.”

Licking his lips, he nods. He pulls you a few feet away towards a table that’s set beside the windows, candles casting twinkling light across the glassware.

“Seokjung is cooking for us tonight.” He pulls your seat out for you, circling around to sit across from you. He looks inexplicably nervous, but a streak of nerves runs through you too with the news you’re holding on to. “I wanted to do something special. I thought being the first person to try the restaurant was pretty special. And I wanted you to be the first person to eat and see this view. I wanted to be with you when you saw it.”

Reaching across the table, you take his fidgeting hand. You love this man so much. Seokjung comes out then, hands laden with plates that he sets out on the table. The spread is truly impressive. Seokjung has to make two trips to bring everything out.

You laugh incredulously as Seokjung retreats back to the kitchen. “Are you planning to feed an army here?”

Seokjin grins sheepishly. “Seokjung was a little excited to work out the menu and have someone try everything. He’s going to ask later for feedback and you know how he is about that.”

You give a nod. You definitely do know how Seokjung can get. It’s the same way Seokjin sometimes gets when he’s trying out a new recipe. You both eat in companionable silence. There’s no need to fill the silence with a lot of chatter. It’s more than enough to just be here with him. Seokjin occasionally feeds you bites of things he thinks you’ll like and it’s thrilling to have him spoil you like this. When he sees things that you like more, he makes sure that you have most of it, not-so-subtly shifting those bites towards you.

You try to surreptitiously ignore the full wine glass throughout the meal. Resorting to distracting Seokjin whenever his eyes begin to drift towards it with confusion. He knows it’s your favorite. It doesn’t seem like the right time to explain why you can’t drink it right now. You can tell that there’s something else Seokjin wants to say. That tonight doesn’t seem to be solely about being the first to eat at the restaurant. Seokjin wouldn’t be so nervous if it was as simple as that.

Once the food is gone, Seokjung brings out dessert and Seokjin seems to grow even more nervous. As you reach out to take a spoon, Seokjin stops you.

Licking his lips, he seems to be preparing himself for something. You wait, letting him get his words in order. Finally, he meets your gaze and his face is set with determination.

“We’ve been through a lot. Had our ups and downs. Hell, we were apart for over 10 years. But somehow, despite everything, despite it seeming like we’d never see each other again. We found each other. Out of all the people in the world, we found each other again. On a beach where we had so many memories. And… and we’ve worked so hard for what we have now. I’m… God, I’m so grateful to have gotten another chance with you. I never even imagined this much. I would’ve been happy just being friends. Having you in my life again… Being able to love you again. It’s a chance I never thought I could have. A chance to do things right. To treat you the way you deserve…”

You smile when he trails off, threading your fingers with him. “I’m happy I found you again too.”

That seems to give him the confidence to go on. “I’ll spend my every waking moment ensuring you know just how loved you are. If you’ll let me. If you want me too.” He slips out of his seat, dropping to his knee beside you. Your heart skips a beat as you watch him with wide eyes. “Baby, Y/n… I love you so much. If you’ll let me, I’d want nothing more than to keep loving you for the rest of our lives.”

He pulls a small box out of his pocket, nearly fumbling it with nerves, and opens it to reveal a glittering ring. Tears gather in your eyes and you stumble out of your seat to wrap your arms around him.

“Yes, of course. God, how could I not want to marry you?”

Seokjin lets out a relieved breath, as if there was a possibility you’d say no. He’s absolutely mad if he thought you’d say no. You press a kiss to his lips, joy filling you. Seokjin kisses you for a long moment before pulling away and, with shaking fingers, pulls the ring free from the velvet to slip it onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit.

You smile at the ring. It’s so gorgeous. For a moment, you forget entirely about your own news. But then Seokjin is pulling the wine glasses from the table, holding yours out to you. Clearly intent on celebrating your engagement.

You stare at the glass for a long moment before slowly reaching out to take it. You chew your lip before setting the glass back on the table. Seokjin frowns in confusion, mouth opening to question your actions but you quickly shake your head.

“So… I have some news.” You fidget with your fingers and Seokjin is quick to set his own glass aside and take your hands in his, thumbs sweeping comfortingly over the skin of your palms. You take a deep breath and then bring his hands to your belly. They’re warm through the fabric of your dress. “I’m pregnant.”

Seokjin blinks at you, his face startlingly blank. Nerves creep in but after a moment of processing, Seokjin’s face is breaking out in the widest grin you’ve ever seen on him.

“Pregnant?” You nod. “We’re going to have a baby?”

He whoops with joy, pulling you into a tight embrace with such force that you nearly fall over, babbling about everything that you’ll have to do in the coming months.

It’s kind of funny. Back in high school and university, when you pictured your life together, it was nothing like what you have now. But somehow, despite the heartache, the distance, everything, it’s so much better than you imagined.

It’s perfect.

#bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #purplearmynet #btswritingcafe #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #jin x reader #jin smut #jin fanfic

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southeastasianists · 3 years

Link

In 2020 Singapore was hit by a series of coronavirus outbreaks, centred around dormitories where thousands of migrant workers live. Cases have dropped significantly, but most of the men are still not permitted to leave except to go to work. It is one of the longest periods of Covid confinement faced by anyone anywhere in the world.

"This is prison life. This is a captive's life."

Sharif came to Singapore in 2008. At the time, his wife was pregnant and the book stall he ran in Bangladesh was shut down.

Over the past 13 years he made a life for himself here, but since early 2020 all he has known are the four walls of his dormitory and the construction site where he works.

He and nearly 300,000 others are banned from mixing with the general public. Last week, Singapore's government said it would allow a handful of workers to go out in a "pilot scheme".

"I appreciate the experiment," he says. "But I can't express much joy at this news. Workers are only allowed to go to a certain place for a fixed time."

Sharif was not one of those selected for the scheme. Sitting on the back of the lorry that takes him to work, he often catches glimpses of the city and its people, who have never been subject to the same restrictions.

"When I see everybody outside, looking happy, it's very painful for me," he told the BBC on a video call.

"They are eating out, going shopping, meeting their friends. And I think, 'why is that not me? Did I make this coronavirus?'"

Most of his spare time he spends lying on the top bunk of his bed, either talking to his family or writing prose and poetry - both in English and Bengali.

He says night time is when things are most difficult. Men often wander the corridors or try to sleep outside on the ground.

"I lie in my bed and sleep won't come. How can I sleep? I need fresh light, I need fresh oxygen," he says.

'Are we animals?'

On the first day of the pilot scheme, the BBC was invited to Singapore's Little India neighbourhood.

Fifty workers were allowed to spend four hours out of their dormitories unsupervised.

A spokesman for the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) called it a "milestone".

At one of Singapore's main Hindu temples, two men were presented to journalists.

One of them, Packrisamy Muruganantham from India, told those assembled that he was "very happy to be out" and "very grateful to the Singapore government and to the MOM for taking care of us".

Since the start of the pandemic, Singapore has reported 58 deaths out of a population of 5.7 million.

The country's success in suppressing the virus has afforded Singaporeans long periods of freedom over the past year and a half.

But even when restrictions were at their toughest and the country was locked down, no healthy person in Singapore was ever banned from leaving their home.

Socially-distanced exercise, for example, was encouraged. But not for those in the dormitories.

"The communal living and working conditions of migrant workers in dorms put them at higher risk of infection and the formation of large clusters," Singapore's Manpower Minister Dr Tan See Leng said in February.

Dr Tan declined an interview with the BBC, but in a statement a Ministry of Manpower (MOM) spokesperson said the policy of keeping workers in their dormitories was "to protect the health of our migrant workers and to mitigate the risk of further transmission".

For Sharif, it feels more like he is being punished rather than protected.

"Everybody in the community is allowed out. All these people are expected to follow the social distancing rules, but they think we cannot do this also," he says.

"When I see a law only for migrant workers I think, 'Are we not human? Or are we animals? Do we not understand anything? Are we so uneducated?'"

A wake-up call

The men in the dormitories - mostly from South Asian countries - do vital manual work here.

They build the country's roads, bridges and apartments. In return, they are able to send back good money to their families.

Tasrif - also from Bangladesh - arrived in 2017. He is 25, earns less than $750 (S$1000; £400) a month and maintains air conditioning units.

He spent around $7,500 in agency fees to come to Singapore.

"We are working tirelessly for the country," he says. "We're making everything, we're doing everything for you guys."

"We are human beings just like you, like everyone in the community. We want our dignity back."

But life in the dormitory typically means sharing a room with up to 30 people and dividing your bathroom, cooking and recreational space with hundreds more.

These conditions led to major Covid-19 outbreaks in dormitories back in March 2020. Big clusters meant Singapore went from being almost untouched by the virus to announcing an island-wide shutdown for two months.

It prompted Tommy Koh, a former Singaporean ambassador to the UN, to rebuke the government recently.

"We should use this as a wake up call," said Mr Koh. "To treat our indispensable foreign workers like a first world country should and not in the disgraceful way in which they are treated now."

But Singapore's government has always been open about separating dormitory residents from everyone else in the country.

They hold a different visa, work under different labour laws and the authorities do not pretend that these men have the same rights as other foreigners who do the white collar jobs in the city.

Even official daily case numbers for Covid-19 are split into three categories: "Imported", "Dormitory residents" and "Community".

"Community" means everyone, apart from those living in a dormitory.

The figures are stark. As of 16 September, migrant workers accounted for 74% of all recorded cases. For context, the workers make up just 5% of Singapore's total population.

Last year several media outlets reported on a spate of suicides and attempted suicides in the dormitories.

When asked by the BBC about the current situation, the MOM declined to provide any details.

Instead, they said they were "always mindful and conscious of the need to better support the mental wellbeing of our migrant workers" and that they offer counselling services and a helpline for those who need it.

Professor Jeremy Lim, director of global health at the Saw Swee Hock School of Public Health at the National University of Singapore, says denying workers their freedom has few public health benefits at the moment.

"I would say that the Covid-19 concerns are massively overblown.

"They are vaccinated, they are familiar with safe distancing, they wear masks. So what more can we do?

"Speaking as a public health professional, we have to recognise there are limits. Right now is the time to focus on these workers' mental health because they are really, really struggling at the moment."

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #Migrant Workers #Labour Rights

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

could you possibly do 142 and 145 for Javier Peña, all the angst /hurt no comfort (depending on how you feel 🙂)

Prompts Used:

142. “I waited and waited, but you never came back.”

145. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier swiped a tired hand over his face as he looked around your apartment. It was immaculately clean, which wasn’t far off the mark for you, but it was also empty. Now that was definitely wrong and cause for suspicion. He’d come to yours for dinner, like it had become his custom to do most nights when he wasn’t out working until the wee hours of the morning but this time was different. This time there was nothing he was coming home to. You were gone, all of your things were gone, no note, no call, nothing. It was like you had up and disappeared without a trace.

In his frantic efforts to soothe and ease his anxieties and worries, he had gone back to his apartment to see if you were there for some reason. Hell, he’d even called up Steve and asked him if he’d heard from you or anything. He was growing desperate. You were so open and communicative normally this was highly unlike you. At least he knew you were more than likely safe; it didn’t seem like anyone associated with Escobar knew who you were or that they would just come and pack up your things and take you. No...this was considerably more calculated and cunning. This was something that had been planned. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. That’s what it made it hurt so much worse; that’s what made his stomach twist and churn and his heart constrict. This was something that you had obviously been planning for a while.

He leaned against the wall before sliding down to the floor and looking at the ceiling as he tried to ground himself. His dark eyes were bloodshot and prickled with the unfamiliar sting of tears as he tried to figure what could have possibly happened. What changed so suddenly?

Javier had been so careful over the years, building so many walls and barriers to protect and guard himself. He’d steeled his heart and cut off displaying most emotions in order to preserve what little feeling and emotion he had left within himself. It seemed to dwindle to less and less every day.

But then he’d let you; completely by chance and utterly by accident at a bar where he aided in protecting from a man that was relentless in his pursuit of you. You’d approached him with wide doe eyes, mouthing something he couldn’t quite make out - was it the noisy bar or the several drinks he’d already knocked back? - before throwing your arms around him and kissing him till you were both breathless before loudly declaring him your boyfriend for the other man to overhear.

It wasn’t long after that before you really were calling him your boyfriend - and meaning it. For whatever reason, it was you that had been able to break down all of his walls and defenses, caringly and lovingly day by day. And while it terrified him, he let it happen little bit by bit until he realized why; he loved you. The realization had come to him slowly but surely and then it had hit him like a freight train. At first it had scared him to death; he never thought he’d experience those feelings again and yet here they were. And it all felt so easy, so simple and that’s how he knew. And when those three little words left his lips at the end of a quiet evening, while you two were just relaxing and watching an old film while knocking back a few beers, he didn’t mind at all. The way you’d looked back at him with those sweet, wide eyes and how softly you repeated it back had been everything to him. He hadn’t regretted the decision at all and for once in life, he was happy to be all in.

But then...why had it led to this? There had been no major fight, no big disagreement that could have explained any of this. But you were just gone.

A long, deep inhale and exhale escaped past dry, trembling lips. He’d been working more lately, that was for sure. The closer and closer they got to Escobar, the less and less time he’d had for you. And for the most part, you hadn’t questioned him, or anything of the sort; you’d expressed concerns for his health - physical and mental - and his safety, and pleaded with him to slow and not rush into things heads on, but he didn’t listen. Of course he didn’t. And you understood for the most part; he job was in no joke, no walk in the park. But still didn’t make things easier. You tried to be there for him as much as possible in whatever way he needed, but over time it became increasingly difficult.

Nights spent together turned into Javier slinking into your bed in the early mornings and then leaving again before you were even up. He’d shown up on your doorstep injured more than a time or two, luckily never anything permanent, but it still hurt your heart. Even your weekend outings were becoming less and less frequent, turning into a relic of the past while you just missed him. If there would have been a way to help him, you would have but he had made it a point to keep you a separate part of his life. You didn’t know the horrors and never deserved too, he always claimed. What had started as something unstoppable and wild slowly fizzled into dying touches and unspoken words.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself more than anything as he buried his face into his hands, “fuck.”

Javier remained there for a few moments, trying to gather his racing thoughts and come up with a logical conclusion on what could have happened. He was a smart man, and it really shouldn’t have been difficult for him to piece together. And then all at once, it hit him.

“Shit,” he jumped to his feet as he grabbed his keys and ran out to his car, ready to race to the airport. He was willing to pull any stunt to keep you grounded until he at least had the chance to speak to you. There was no doubt in his mind that you were planning an escape; from him and Colombia.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey!” Javier held up his DEA badge as he ran towards the terminal he had learned you were at. Boarding was set to begin in a few minutes so he was brazenly running like his life depended on it in order to get to you on time. He received more than a few curious glances as he weaved his way through people, his gaze honed in on you. You’d been sitting there, quietly reading, but as soon as you heard his shouts, you’d looked up in horror. He had the sneaking suspicion that you had hoped he wouldn’t put two and two together or if he did, that he wouldn’t find you in time.

“Dulzura!” he stopped directly in front of you as a hand clutched at his chest, his heart beating wildly and practically threatening to burst through, “I waited and waited and you never came back. Figured it out - what are you doing?”

“Javier,” you hissed as you slammed your book shut and put it away in your bag. Curious onlookers were almost staring at the two of you as you put a hand on his shoulder and dragged him off to the side, “what the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” his dark eyes grew wide as he looked at you suspiciously, “what the hell are you doing here at the airport? Your whole apartment was packed and now you’re here?”

“My internship at the University ended last week,” you reminded him as a surprised look crossed his features. Of course he’d known...he was supposed to remember anyway. It had been marked on his calendar, but he’d been so damn busy with everything else he’d completely overlooked it. You’d even had plans to go out and celebrate...but instead he’d forgotten and you’d come home to a dark and empty apartment.

“I-I knew that…”

“Did you?” you didn’t intend for your response to be so harsh, but it was venomous and biting “because you didn’t say a word. I didn’t even see or hear from you that day.”

“Dulzura, I’m so, so sorry. Please let me-”

“I have nothing keeping me here in Colombia anymore, Javier,” you told him quietly, and you loathed how horrible it sounded. You were trying to get a point across, but wished it didn’t have to be like this, “I’m going back home to the states.”

“You have nothing...you have me,” he reminded you, shock and horror marring his features as he tried to reach for you. You recoiled out of his touch for the first time, shocking you both, "please let me explain…"

"There's nothing to explain, Javier," his name was a soft sigh as you hung your head. Your heart was always feeling heavy as you looked at his crestfallen face, "its just...its not the first thing you've forgotten lately. Our anniversary, my birthday, now this."

"Dulzura-"

"I know your job is important, I know how much this means to you," a shaky exhale left your lips as a single tear rolled down your cheek, "that's why I haven't really complained. But I can't...I can't do this, where I'm the fourth or fifth priority in your life. I know your job needs you, and so many people depend on you. But I need you to be present too. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone more than I'm not. You're here but you're not really here. I know that it sounds selfish but I want you too."

"I know things have been crazy lately," he was tempted to reach up and touch your cheek but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if he could take more heartbreak, "but they’ll settle down...they'll get better and it will all be over soon. I swear it. I just need a little more time."

"And that's what you've been saying for months," it was a sharp, cruel reminder of how things had really been. You didn't want to be mad at him or end up resenting everything about him, which was partially the reason for how things had turned out, why you'd made your decision, "its like there's a whole part of you I don't even know, that happens to be a majority of your life."

"I just want to keep you safe," he huffed, running a hand through his already messy hair, "that's all. It's-"

"Dangerous," you finished for him, "I know, and I get it. I do but I just...I can’t do this anymore. Where I only get half of you, or even less. I know it’s horribly selfish and I might be the worst person alive, but I can’t...I can’t do this anymore, Javi. I want to be able to get all of you, and to know you’re safe and sound and that I don’t have to worry about...you getting hurt...or worse.”

“It won’t always be like this,” he insisted softly, as you nodded in agreement. One day things would come to a head, whether or not they were in his favor was yet to be determined. And you did love him, more than anything. More than life itself, and the idea of having to watch him get hurt over and over or worse...was too much to bear. And while it sounded cruel and horrible, you’d rather create a distance between yourselves and cut ties rather than deal with the insurmountable loss and grief of Javier, “I just need you to hold on a little longer…”

“Javier...I love you, but I...I wasn’t going to wait around forever,” you sighed lightly, “we both knew that my time here wasn’t permanent and we thought..this would be over by now. If I knew, or you could guarantee me that there was a way this would be over soon and you’d be safe, I would stay. I would. But right now there’s no way to know, and you’re getting further and further away from me and that scares me to death. I-I can’t protect you. I can’t do anything to help and I don’t want to be the one to…”

Deal with your death.

“Okay,” it was a small sound of defeat as he fought back a whimper that threatened to escape past pouted lips. He knew you were right; gods, you deserved the world and he couldn’t even give you himself or even a semblance of a clear future together. He wished things had been different; and he was mad and angry, not at you but at the cruel world that had allowed him to experience a taste of such saccharine bliss before taking it all away again. He knew there was nothing he could do to convince you to say. None of the arguments were in his favor. He took a step back, lightly nodding at himself, trying to remain composed, “I get it. I do. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to be there for you how you needed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be enough.”

“You are more than enough, Javier,” you promised, reaching for his hand as you offered him a gentle touch, “it’s just the situation - the reality of things. I guess we’re not allotted the things we want in life, huh? I wish things were different. I-I wish I was strong to stay here and wait for you. But I can’t…”

Waste years of my life wondering if you were dead or alive. Worrying about my safety and yours and remaining helpless.

“I know,” he took his chances and leaned over, placing a kiss to the side of your head, “you’re right. You should go.”

“Javier,” you leaned into him, tears cascading down your cheeks as you wished you could hold onto him and never let go, “I’m sorry, I really am. I love you, more than you'll ever know. But I just...I tried to tell you I was leaving. But every time I did, you weren't really there or the time wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” he promised softly, “that’s why this hurts more than anything else. I… can’t stop you and you need to do what’s right. This is right. So...go home and be safe. Maybe one day…”

“We’ll see each other again, I promise. One way or another, in this life or the next,” you tenderly cradled his face in your hands before kissing him one last time, “but right now I have to go. I love you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly as you let go, almost jumping at the boarding announcement. Pulling back, you offered him the ghost of a smile before grabbing your bags and heading to check in.

Javier didn’t turn around to watch you go, instead hanging his head before exhaling loudly, attempting to shake off this situation. He steeled himself again, willing the Javier he used to be to come back up before he walked away and out of the airport, never so much as casting a glance back.

This part of his life was over and done with and he was going to let it die like so many other things.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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lisinfleur · 3 years

Text

Shelter

The request:

Author’s Notes | I took the chance for Day Felice’s new album and wrote it while listening to their song Shelter, if you guys want to listen to it while reading as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! (And the song too haha). Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon. Words | 1878 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions to child abuse and abandonment. Wounds, blood, and some angst.

His chariot noise was always something that would help his mind to ease after any kind of arguing. And with his wife, it wasn't different. This morning he’d left after a huge discussion with her.

Why was Y/N so worried about a slave child?

Ivar insisted several times she should just forget the thing and let it go. It wasn't their responsibility! And more: by taking leftovers and water for that child every night, she was only making the little thing's suffering longer!

"It would be dead already if it wasn't for you, feeding it every night!" he remembered trying to insist.

But Y/N's was stone-headed! Every single night, there was his queen, dressing her cloak and leaving his castle - once a former church - to visit the thing that now wasn't moving places, of course.

Someone was feeding it, helping it, all the time! Why would it be stupid and leave it behind?

Ivar was getting used to passing by that child every day as if the girl was some kind of door or local decoration. But not for his wife. Not his Y/N and her heart blessed by Frigg.

She was a natural mother. He knew that! It was one of the reasons he chose her the love Y/N would show for any child she could have around.

But when she came with that stupid idea, it went too far for him.

"I'm going to take her home."

A thing.

A useless thing that wouldn't serve not even as a slave, so thin it was.

They've discussed it for hours. Ivar screamed at Y/N she was insane, perhaps touched by some local spirit. Y/N yelled he was an insensitive motherfucker who could fuck himself out of her room if he thought she would let a child starve to death on her door.

As always, their love was intense but also was their anger. And whenever they would yell at each other, one of them would end up hurt.

This time, it was her.

"I don't fucking care about what you think! It's cattle, Y/N! Cattle die! And that's it! I won't spend my supplies with a thing that can barely give anything back to us!"

Or maybe not.

Perhaps... It was him.

"Fine then. Let us guide her to the woods and leave her to the wolves, Ivar. Isn't it what we do with useless things? Oh, wait... Wasn't it what your father did to you?"

Their words would always hurt each other deeper than they wanted to hurt. Their hearts would regret the words said at the moment they’d left their mouths.

But this time, her words forced his eyes to look out of his chariot. And Ivar stopped it by the street near where that thing was sitting, observing. Trying to understand why his wife was trying so hard to save that starving child.

Why was she comparing them as if there was anything in common between him and a Saxon abandoned child?

It was early in the morning. He watched as the little girl unwrapped the leftovers his wife had given to her the last night. At first, Ivar thought the little hungry thing would, of course, eat everything without care. But he watched with surprise as she fractioned the little portion, eating a quarter of it and saving the rest for later.

It was an intelligent move... She wasn’t a wild animal, after all.

That would be a cold day. Ivar observed as the little one looked up to the sky. The sun was born behind some heavy clouds - probably some rain would be coming at night.

He watched as the little thing looked around, smartly stealing a barrel from the trash of a nearby store, checking on its wooden pieces to place it properly as a shelter. She was young and thin enough to fit into it. It would serve for the night and maybe keep her warm.

The owner of the store, so as some people who were passing by, pushed her here or there, complaining about her attempts to move between them. And Ivar watched as the little girl looked up from the ground to the bigger people around her, fearlessly.

She wasn't such a defenseless little thing as he thought she was.

In fact, she was pretty smarter than he thought a Saxon child could be, hiding her barrel between the mead barrels of the same store, covering its problems with some mud, so the owner wouldn't see it wasn't one of his barrels.

She wouldn't have her shelter for the night thrown away or broken before she could use it.

Ivar lost track of the time he spent there, watching the girl moving here and there, gathering stones and mud to imitate the shop owner's way of stocking his barrels and preserving hers.

But the important matters of the town had to be more important than his arguing with his wife, and with this, Ivar moved away from that place.

His mind wondered if that was the reason why his wife was so sure he and that child had something in common.

The little girl was a fighter like he was someday, indeed. She was fighting her way to keep herself alive and, perhaps, his precious Y/N was right, and death wasn't exactly the fate that child had in this world.

Ivar tried to get himself occupied during the day. But the truth was that his mind never stopped lingering over Y/N's words, passing over and over the things he had seen that morning.

When the night was threatening to come, the sky broke in water as he thought it would. But curiosity dragged him away from the path to his home.

Ivar wanted to see if the little girl's plan had gone right and what was his surprise when he found the little one sitting away from the store under the heavy rain, with nothing but a rag to cover herself and wounds everywhere.

The barrel she'd tried so hard to protect was shattered near the store's trash, and a fence was placed by the owner around his barrels with some spikes near the place she was sitting before. It was preventing her from having coverage under his roof, even from the outside.

That angered Ivar a little. He'd seen her hard work! And, in the end, her plan had failed. She was clearly beaten and wet from her head to her toes anyway.

However, his eyes caught something he wasn't expecting.

After eating the last piece of what his wife had given to her, the little girl extended the leather over a hole he watched her carve with her bare hands on the ground. Treated, the leather started to catch water and fill itself, becoming a bag into the hole. The little girl caught the bag before it could lose its content, tied the leather with a strand of her ragged trousers, and created a canteen from where she started drinking the rainwater, relieving her thirst.

She was beaten down, defeated. Yet, she didn't give up. She didn't lay her pride down. And found herself a way to turn that rain into a chance for her to survive one more day.

There was determination in her eyes.

That little thing wasn't being sustained by his wife's crumbs. No. She was fighting to the limit of her strength to survive.

Like he'd done someday...

Ivar's eyes filled with surprise when he could see himself in that little girl's wounds, dragging himself through the mud when everyone thought he would never move.

Standing, when everyone was expecting his legs to break and let him fall.

She was a fighter. And, maybe, Y/N was right. Perhaps it wasn't about a Saxon child or a useless slave. Perhaps the gods were showing him they've chosen that little thing, to give her a chance, to reward her for the fight she was putting on for her life.

"Get in," Ivar's voice sounded.

The little thin thing lifted her eyes to see the mighty Viking looking at her from the chariot everyone from her people was taught to fear. Her wounded little body could barely reach the top of its wheels when she got up to look at Ivar.

Her eyes into his, instigating even more the curiosity he was starting to have about that little Saxon thing.

How fierce would she be if raised under his roof?

But the little thing didn't get up on his chariot at once. Instead, she lowered herself, gathering more stones with her muddy and wounded hands.

"I said get in! Don't you see you'll end up dying under this rain?" Ivar complained, annoyed he was standing under such heavy and cold waters for a thing that dared to turn her back on him, carving the floor and placing the stones in a way the rain wouldn't destroy her little monument. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I must do it, sir," she mumbled.

Ivar could recognize a small stone monument in that little girl's construction. His people were used to rising those little towers to pray for the gods or place small sacrifices and offers.

Was Y/N teaching her about the gods?

"Why?" he asked as she tried to climb up on his chariot, struggling a little with the height and her wounded knees.

"It is for the lady who comes here every day," she mumbled. "I promised if I ever was to leave, I would leave one of these for her, so she would know I'm not dead."

For his wife.

She was leaving a stone monument for Y/N, so she wouldn't be worried...

"I don't know where you're taking me, king Ivar," she said, showing she knew who he was. "But I don't want her to be sad."

Ivar's heart ached. There was indeed something in common between him and that child. But not only the fact that both of them were survivors.

She didn't want his wife to be hurt.

And so didn't he.

"Cover yourself," he said, throwing his warm cloak around her.

It covered her like a blanket in which she rolled herself, nestling with a grateful smile.

"She was right," the little girl mumbled as Ivar started to ride his horses.

"What?" he asked, and she repeated, smiling at him.

"The lady was right." She said. "The gods were watching me. Maybe I passed their test."

Y/N was definitely teaching that girl. And Ivar sighed, looking at the road.

Perhaps it was a test for himself as well. Or Skuld just had decided to use him as a feather to write that little girl's fate differently.

"Skuld," he said, catching her eyes. "We shall name you Skuld. To honor the god that wrote your fate like this."

"Skuld," she tried.

Pronouncing it perfectly.

"Sounds strong... I like it!"

What a petulant little thing, Ivar thought. As if she had any choice on how things would be from now on. A giggle filled Ivar's mouth.

Y/N was right and he would remember apologising after coming home that night.

The little girl wasn’t a useless thing. And he had to admit.

She was like him, after all.

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

DRINKING SHOTS WITH CHRIS AND LEON PT. 2

A/N: So, one person asked for a sequel and even I couldn't get these two out of my mind so, here it is: the unplanned second part. Just enjoy it

Characters: Leon Kennedy; Chris Redfield; Reader

Warnings: angst; fluff

Words: 2.016

As you awoke the next morning, you remembered every single bit of the last night and even if you would hope it would be just a dream, you knew it was all real.

Chris as a cuddly teddy, you never thought this was possible.

How he has called you his 'little baby sister'.

And most important, Leon Kennedy had kissed you.

You had an odd feeling about that but you and Leon had to talk.

"Hey, Chris.", you greeted the big guy who sat alone at a table in the dining room.

"Ugh, not so loud.", Chris whined and held his head.

"Sorry. How are you doing?", you asked, slightly regretting his state because of you.

"Fucking wonderful. Next time, remind me that I don't wanna drink with you. Never again. Why are you even this fit?", he asked low, checking your appearance.

You searched for an answer because Leon's kiss had made you sober almost immediately, "Oh, uhm... Water. That's the trick. Where's Leon?"

"I hope he’s rotting in hell for not stopping you.", Chris cursed without looking up.

"He's at the shooting range.", a team mate called through the room.

You frowned. The shooting range was the last place you had expected Leon to be for such an hour but on the other hand, it was what he did when he needed distraction.

You patted Chris encouragingly on his shoulder before you turned around to leave him alone with his hungover.

As you reached the shooting range, Leon stood there, tall and proud with the gun in his hand. He aimed for a wooden target several metres away. You watched him correcting his stand, raising the gun before he pulled the trigger to make a perfect shot in the middle of the head.

Like always, you liked watching Leon. This man was good at anything he touched. He even had trained you at your first days but now, as you looked at him, something felt different. You weren't just impressed by him. You were admiring him. And to your surprise, this wasn't even a new feeling. It always had been there.

You weren't sure if he had seen you until, "Good morning.", Leon said low without looking at you while aiming for the next shot. He pulled the trigger and hit the wooden target in the spot where the heart would be.

As he was done, Leon put the gun down and secured it before he turned over to you, leaning with crossed arms against the table behind him.

Suddenly, everything felt awkward around you. You swallowed down the knot that had appeared in your throat. Everything had made sense in your head but now, where you stood in front of Leon, your brain felt like mud, "Y-you look good. Aren't you hungover?"

"No. Water is the trick.", Leon answered low but then, he went silent.

You stepped forward, trying to calm yourself with your hands buried deep into your pockets, "We should talk.", you said finally as the silence was too much.

'No, we should forget what happened.', Leon thought but as he saw your waiting and mostly insecure glance he couldn't say it, "Yeah.", he admitted finally.

"That wasn't what you really wanted to say, right?", you guessed.

Leon was surprised. Could you read him this easily? You knew him well but he always hoped he wasn't this easy to decipher.

You looked at the ground, playing with a small rock with your foot, "Actually, I can understand if you say it was just because of the alcohol. We can forget it.", you offered an easy way out and before Leon could say something, you turned around to leave. Taking his silence as an answer and losing your courage.

"It wasn't just because of the alcohol.", he said low and for a moment, he thought you hadn't heard him.

But then you stopped, facing him with your back, "So, what Chris said was the truth? You like me and never said something?"

"I haven't had much luck with women and you know that.", Leon said and as you turned around, he looked at the ground.

He was right. Since you knew him, he had flirted with some women and sometimes, he had spent the night with them but nothing lasted very long. You always asked yourself why it was like this because, in the end, Leon was handsome as hell, funny, nice, protective ... actually, everything you searched in a man, "It could be different between us.", you said low.

Leon looked up into your eyes. Hope was displayed in them and for a moment, he considered giving in but Leon had to be stronger, "I doubt that. It has nothing to do with you-"

"Right."

Leon stepped forward, "Believe me, yn. It's not about you. Yes, yesterday, with the alcohol, I got the courage to kiss you but...it should be a one time thing. Trust me, it won't end well if we try something. Our friendship is more important."

You nodded slowly before you went away avoiding that Leon could see your tears you tried to hold back. He wanted to stop you but he couldn't. He had seen the tears and the sight hurted more than he thought. That was exactly what he wanted to avoid, seeing you hurt because of him.

Leon stayed at the shooting range until his gun was empty and the wooden target almost destroyed. He had taken his anger out on it. Over and over, his mind was running through the happenings. The kiss. The talk. The things he had said. Your tears.

It was true, he liked you a lot and many times he had imagined to have you by his side as more than just a friend but then, he reminded himself how the most things with women ended for him and the last thing he wanted was to lose you.

Leon decided to go back into his room to find some distraction and to get a clear mind. As he walked through the dining room, he spotted Chris sitting at a table, a bottle of water in front of him, "You're such an idiot! I hope you know that.", Leon said angrily, stopping next to his friend.

Chris held his head between his hands, "Whoa! Quieter, please! And I have no idea what you mean.", he whined.

"You told yn that I like her.", Leon pointed out, ignoring the painful expression of his friend.

Chris looked up, confusion written on his face, "I did- what? No, I didn't. I would remember that!"

Leon chuckled dryly, "Sure. You remember calling her your 'little baby sister'?"

Chris' eyes went big, "I did... Oh, bloody hell! You think she's mad?", Chris asked fearfully.

Leon huffed out, rolling with his eyes, "Not about you.", he muttered.

"What are you talking about?", Chris asked confused.

But Leon just shook his head. It wasn't to blame Chris. In the end, Leon had kissed you. No one had forced him to do that. He had been weak for one second and now he had to deal with it, "Nothing, forget it. If you see her, tell me.", Leon said and went to his room.

The whole day, you were running up and down in your room, considering what you should do or what you wanted. And even if it became evening, you were still busy with thinking. All his words Leon had said were running through your brain over and over again.

He was right. Your friendship was great but you were sure, you and Leon could combine the friendship with a relationship and it would be even more great. You really believed that.

You stopped because you had enough of all the thinking with no point. With determination, you left your room and a few moments later, you knocked firmly at Leon's door.

Slightly annoyed, Leon opened the door. His face changed as he saw you, "YN? Wh-"

"One time thing my ass!", you said, grabbing Leon by his collar to bring him down to kiss him. It was a hungry, desperate kiss with all the emotions you had and as you two broke apart for air, Leon looked you deeply in the eyes. His rapid breath was fanning over your face while you waited for any kind of reaction.

He took some time to look at you. Your eyes were filled with hunger and your lips slightly swollen. Like always, you were simply perfect, and still Leon had doubts. He leant his forehead against yours, "We... we shouldn't do that.", he whispered but even for him, it didn't sound that convincing.

"You already said that.", you cupped his face, searching his eyes, "Listen, I understand your point, Leon. But you know me. I'm not just some random girl. We're doing the same things. We’re facing the same things. We're fighting side by side. And if you give this a try, I will even fight for us to work out."

"But I don't wanna hurt you..."

"Then, instead, forget your concerns for one second and tell me what you want.", you breathed with a racing heart. This, right now, was the time for honest talk and you feared the outcome.

Softly, he leant his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, "You're unbelievable. I'm not strong enough to resist you, you know that, right?", Leon asked low.

"I know. And now, please, answer the question. Leon, what do you really want?", you asked.

Determined, he opened his eyes, "I want you.", Leon answered before he cupped your face and crashed his lips on yours. You snaked your arms around his neck and swiftly, Leon raised you from your feet to carry you inside.

You steadied yourself with your legs around his waist as Leon kicked the door shut and pressed you against it. Pinning you with his lower body, Leon roamed over your curves with his hands and slid underneath your shirt to feel your soft skin.

You did the same, just more eager. You grabbed the rim of his shirt to pull it over his head. Hungrily, your hands were dancing over his muscled chest. Touching as much as you could find of him. While Leon kissed down your neck, you clawed your fingers into his long hair which caused him to moan because of your roughness.

Slowly, Leon looked up into your face, admiring everything on you before he carried you to his bed, hovering above you, "God damnit, you're so much hotter than I imagined.", he said, roaming over your body with his eyes.

You smirked, stroking over his naked back and scratching into his skin what let him shudder. You were about to say something as several strong knocks let you two freeze, "Leon!"

Leon laid his index finger on his lips to signal you to stay silent and you nodded. But as it knocked again, you shrieked slightly by surprise and Leon placed his hand over your mouth before he answered as calmly as possible: "Yeah? What is it?"

"I... I haven't seen yn the whole day. I can't find her. You think she's alright?", Chris asked through the closed door.

Looking at you with a devilish smirk, Leon called back: "Yeah, I'm sure she's pretty fine. I guess we will see her later." Leon answered grinning. As he heard Chris’ slowly leaving footsteps, he removed his hand from your mouth.

"Shouldn't we tell him something?", you asked, thinking about Chris and how concerned he had sounded.

Leon shook his head slowly, "No. He was the one who had blurted out my feelings for you. He can suffer a little bit more."

"Actually, Chris is the reason why I'm here right now. You should thank him.", you responded with a smirk.

Leon leant down, matching your smirk and nudging your nose with his own, "Maybe. But not yet. My attention is somewhere else right now.", he breathed before he kissed you deeply.

None of you knew where this would lead but silently you and Leon swore to each other to make this work.

#resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil the village #resident evil vendetta #resident evil #resident evil damnation #my wrting #fandoms

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

And the Walls Kept Tumbling Down

Prompts: Trust and Breakdown

Word Count: 3,706

Characters: Pixal and Lloyd

Timeline: right before season 8

Trigger Warnings: Mental Breakdown/Panic Attack, Lack of Self-Worth

Summary: Pixal has been Samurai X for awhile, now- a role that allows her to be herself, to be happy. But it’s also... incredibly lonely. Luckily, she’s not the only one alone- Lloyd has been left in the city while his friends go after Master Wu, and his presence is comforting. But as they struggle with a mysterious biker gang, Pixal can’t help feeling the want to be part of something more.

Link to read on FanFiction.Net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13897921/1/And-the-Walls-Kept-Tumbling-Down

“Master Lloyd, maybe you should go get that checked at the hospital.”

“Pix, I’m fine, it’s just a scratch,” Lloyd mumbled through the gauze as he snapped it with his teeth, winding the last several inches around his forearm. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Why? You are our master now, aren’t you?”

Lloyd snorted, tentatively testing his arm as he moved it back and forth. “I’m no master. I can’t even keep our team together.”

Pixal stared at him, shocked. “We all agreed on this, Lloyd. It is the most efficient plan to find Master Wu.”

“Yeah, and whose plan was that?” Lloyd’s voice was suddenly sharp.

“I believe it was Zane’s, but-”

“Exactly! It was Zane’s plan, not mine. I did nothing. And now, they’re off searching for Master Wu, and I’m sitting here, doing nothing.”

An unfamiliar sensation squeezed at Pixal’s chest, one that felt hot and fierce and miserable all at the same time, before she had to remind herself that no, she didn’t have a body, didn’t have a chest to feel pain in, and that she was just speaking to Lloyd over the monitors.

At least, in the moment, she was.

“Zane trusted me to watch over this city,” she insisted, her voice unstable- which it shouldn’t be, she was a nindroid, not affected by such things- “He trusted us.”

Lloyd flinched visibly, looking away from the computer they were using to talk. “Pix, I didn’t mean- look, I’m sure Zane much would’ve rather had you come along with him, but instead you got stuck babysitting me.”

“Normally, I would object, but I think you’ve already proven your own point,” she commented, shooting a pointed glare at his bandaged arm.

Lloyd gritted his teeth, letting out a slow breath. “I get it, Pixal, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“A doctor’s visit couldn’t hurt, Lloyd.”

“Will you drop it already?”

She frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t grow cross with me, Master Lloyd. I am only trying to look out for you-”

Lloyd stood up sharply. “I get it, okay? I’m incompetant. You don’t need to keep calling me ‘master’ out of pity, I know I’ll never be able to live up to my unc- Master Wu.”

Pixal blinked at him, stunned. “Lloyd, I never-”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” And then he was reaching forward, slamming down the laptop’s lid, and Pixal’s world went dark.

He knew how much she hated that, when he turned her off or walked away without her consent, like she was some sort of object.

He hadn’t meant it- she had learned a lot about Lloyd in their past year alone together, and he often became impulsive when he was angry in order to cover up his sensitive, insecure side. It would probably only be a matter of hours before he came running back, apologizing repeatedly, and sobbing over what a horrible friend he was as Pixal patiently waited for him to calm down. But she had grown to like and respect Lloyd, and it still stung when he snapped at her, even though the logical part of her mind knew that it wasn’t really her that was the problem.

What bothered her even more so, though, was the things he said about himself. It had been abrupt, this time, but she hadn’t missed the times he had slipped it in more subtly into conversation. It made her angry, how he refused to appreciate himself.

And now, stuck in this stupid form, she couldn’t go after him.

Well. Technically, she could.

The Samurai X suit had been up and operational for a few months since her last major upgrade- the one that had finally given her her own, independent body, separate from just the mech itself.

But she was nervous to remove herself from the computer entirely. She was aware that she was so incredibly useful as a program, with instant access to all sorts of technology and data. She had become an asset to her team.

She liked feeling important, feeling like she was part of the group.

But being the samurai allowed her to physically be there. In these last few months, she felt like she had really grown to know and trust Lloyd- even if he didn’t know it was her beneath the samurai mask. She wanted to get to know the others fully, too- she was already fairly close to Zane, but she liked the rest of the team, too- Cole, Jay, Kai, and especially Nya, Pixal felt intrigued by. She had spent some time connecting similarities between them- there were a lot of differences, too, but she felt like they could be friends. A physical form would allow her to bond with them, like a human. She was well aware she wasn’t one, but she wanted to understand.

But she was afraid, too. Except for Zane, and maybe Lloyd, now, seeing the others again felt daunting. They had never been particularly close before she had been scrapped. What if they thought she was infringing on their team? The six of them had been close for so long. It would make sense if she wasn’t wanted there.

She just wasn’t ready, not yet. Communicating with Lloyd through the monitors would just have to do for now. It was difficult, though- it didn’t seem like he took her as seriously this way.

For now, though, they had bigger problems. Lloyd’s injury hadn’t been too severe, from what she could tell, and would heal quickly. But it had been a sizable wound, and could leave some pretty severe scarring, if he wasn’t careful with it- she knew he wouldn’t be, which was why she had to keep him in line- but the point was, these were no common thieves going around, dealing this kind of damage. This gang- whoever they were- were something bigger, more dangerous than their day-to-day threats. Pixal wasn’t sure if it was severe enough to start calling the others back- she didn’t want to interrupt their search for Master Wu. But she would certainly have to keep a closer eye on Lloyd from now on, to make sure he didn’t get in over his head.

She should probably start playing a more active role as Samurai X. Although the ninja had a tentative relationship with her mysterious persona, she wasn’t about to send Lloyd against this gang alone again.

She just hoped he would have her.

---

The next call came in much sooner than Pixal had anticipated. At the unappealing hour of four in the morning, Lloyd hauled himself out of bed and stumbled drearily out the door at Pixal’s report of a prison breach alarm coming from Kryptarium. With the rush, there was no time to talk to him, and the drive to the prison was awkward and silent.

When they arrived, it turned out the alarm had been triggered by accident. The good news was there were no criminals to stop, the bad news was that they had woken up at four am for no reason.

Not that Pixal particularly minded- sleep was inconsequential to a nindroid, but Lloyd was less than pleased.

“I mean, if you’re going to have an alarm system that immediately pages the city’s ninja team and makes them stop everything they’re doing to rush over there, it should at least be heavily guarded. How do you even accidentally set off an emergency alarm? I thought these guys were supposed to be professionals!”

Pixal stifled a laugh as he paused, taking a sip of the iced coffee he had picked up as they had headed back. He had told her, “If I’m already up and ready, I might as well spend some time in the city for a little while. Y’know, in case they trigger any other ‘alarms’ that I need to go rushing off to.”

“Perhaps they need a lesson from the ninja,” Pixal suggested.

“I’ll say,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how this city ever survived before we showed up.”

“Well, experience is the best teacher, and you guys have triggered enough traps and alarms to last a lifetime.”

“Wait, what?” Lloyd spluttered. “No, we haven’t! We’re highly trained ninja, we’re better than that.”

“Oh, really? I seem to remember quite a few in the Tournament of Elements, or the time with the technoblades, or when General Cryptor tracked you- shall I go on?”

“Shut up,” Lloyd snorted, trying to hide his grin. “You don’t know nothin’.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I was only with you for a short time before I was uploaded into Zane’s head, and after that, my view of your adventures was extremely limited. I can’t imagine how much more trouble you got into when I wasn’t there.”

“I hate you,” he said, attempting to scowl and failing miserably, the look on his face was too comedic for Pixal to bite back her laugh this time. It wasn’t long before Lloyd joined her, and soon, he was bent over, clutching his stomach, and he had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath. Pixal felt warm inside as she watched him take a long sip from his coffee. She enjoyed seeing him like this. He had been far too tense over the last few weeks, and she missed the more childlike, carefree side of him.

After a moment, though, the expression on his face fell solemn, and he turned to the tablet they were using to communicate to look her directly in the eyes. “Pix, I’m really sorry for yelling at you last night. I was being a brat.”

She paused carefully, both relieved and nervous that they were finally addressing this. “Lloyd, I know you were hurting. I am only trying to look out for you.”

He put his hands behind his head. “Yeah, I know, I need to work harder-”

“Lloyd,” she interrupted firmly. “That’s the other thing. I need you to stop saying things like that about yourself.”

He cocked his head at her. “Like what?”

Good grief, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. “Talking down on yourself. I called you ‘master’ because that’s what you are now. You’ve earned this title, Lloyd. Just like you’ve earned everything else in your life, and more. It was not my intention to say you would take your uncle’s place, but say that you can be just as great of a leader as he was.”

Lloyd suddenly found the cracks in the concrete to be very interesting. “See, people keep saying that, but- it’s just so hard. I feel like I always mess everything up. Something always goes wrong, or worse, someone gets hurt-”

“Lloyd, you’re one person. You can’t expect to be successful all the time. You may be a ninja, yes, but your job is very difficult and dangerous, something most people wouldn’t even dream of tackling. You’re part of a team for a reason, and I’m sorry they’re not here right now, but until they return, you’re going to have to give yourself a little credit.”

Lloyd’s breathing hitched, and he scrubbed at his suspiciously wet eyes. His next words were so quiet, Pixal could barely hear them. “I just miss them. Everyone… everyone always leaves, and I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

Pixal was struggling to breathe herself- even though she was a nindroid, didn’t need to breathe- the sensation was still there.

She could remember when she had been alone too. Those nights after Zane had… had died, had been some of the worst times of her life. The emptiness had only made it sting worse, but when Lloyd had reached out to her, she had refused him.

She had been scared, scared to let anyone else into her life in case she lost them too, but now she realized that he had been hurting just as much as she had. She knew his friends had gone off on their own like she had, leaving him just as alone as the rest of them. She had been the cause of that, she had only hurt him more when he was already going through so much.

When she spoke again, it wasn’t just for the situation at present.

“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at the screen, his watery green eyes staring into hers, then raised an arm, his fingers ghosting the screen, before falling back to his side. He looked away, swallowing.

“What is it?”

“I just… I wish I could hug you. I wish you were here. Like, actually.”

“I am much more useful in the computer, Lloyd.”

“Yeah, but you’re not… you’re not here. I don’t care about how useful you are.”

Pixal let out a trembling breath, but Lloyd hardly seemed to notice, already beginning to stand up. “Sorry about being such a downer. I better get back to the Bounty, I’m sure the police have something for me to do.”

“Lloyd?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just… they’ll be back soon. I know they aren’t like… other people. They’re going to come back. And besides, until then, I’ve got you, right?” He gave her a shy smile.

Pixal froze. This was it. He was extending- a metaphorical- hand to her. Offering her to be part of something that she had been wanting for a long time.

But it felt wrong. She wasn’t a ninja. She wasn’t one of his teammates. What if she was assuming wrong? What if he wasn’t really asking that?

“I’m not one of the ninja, Lloyd. I can’t help you the way they can.”

“No, you’re whoever you want to be, Pix. But you’re still my friend.”

Friend. Pixal felt a sudden urge to correct him, to tell him he was mistaken. “I’m not part of your team. I… I can’t be.”

“Trust me, Pix- in every sense that matters- you are one of us.”

---

“Pixal, I need my car! Now!”

The nindroid’s voice came out slightly crackly from the radio. “Your coordinates, Master Lloyd?”

“I’m somewhere around… well, you know how to find me.”

The cable he was gripping onto slowed to a stop, then quickly began to swing back down. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lloyd prayed that Pixal knew what she was doing, and let go.

Air whipped past him as he fell freely, the fall feeling both agonizingly slow and alarmingly quick at the same time, but before he had time to question what the hell he was doing, a blur of green darted out from a nearby alleyway, and Lloyd fell into his car.

He quickly pulled himself up and took over the controls. “Impeccable timing, Pix! You’re getting good at that.”

“I have to do something while you’re busy fighting crime, don’t I?”

“Speaking of which…” Lloyd cut off, gritting his teeth as he wove in between cars on the busy street, chasing after the biker. “Who is this person? Anything you can tell me about them?”

“They appear to be affiliated with the same criminal biker gang we have been having trouble with over the last few weeks. I am afraid I cannot tell you anything other than that. They have been keeping a very low profile.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’re good. I’ll keep you posted.” Gritting his teeth, he pushed on the gas and shot through the streets after the mysterious biker. They were a skilled driver, but Lloyd wasn’t lacking in that department either, and soon, he had caught up to the biker. The person’s eyes glowed an eerie red through their mask, their expression emotionless, and Lloyd forced his gaze away for a moment to examine the object in the back of his bike- presumably the stolen item. It was a red mask, with an ugly, beast-like face patterned over the top, complete with a mouth of crooked, yellowing teeth, and deep, glowering eyes. It looked like nothing more than a costume. Lloyd wondered what they could possibly want with it.

Putting on another burst of speed, he pulled in front of the biker, making them screech to a halt to avoid a collision. The two of them stared each other down, only a short stretch of road between them.

The criminal revved his engine, and suddenly, was racing towards Lloyd. Lloyd began to do the same, and just when he thought the biker was about to hit him head-on, mechanical arms extended from the bike, driving into the road, and sending the biker flying over his head. Lloyd slammed to a halt and jumped out of the car, running over to the bridge as the biker went over the edge. He yanked something near his chest, and all of a sudden, a big sheet was billowing out from his back, gray and black and red-

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat as the parachute unfolded fully, revealing the emblem of a face that Lloyd had never thought he would see again.

No, no, no. Lloyd stumbled back from the railing, his breath hitching in his chest as he tried desperately to draw it in. This doesn’t mean anything. Perhaps they just are a fan of Garmadon, it doesn’t mean he’s here-

But it wasn’t working. His body just wasn’t listening to him, his heart beating too fast, his breath trembling and shallow, and his head-

“Lloyd!” A voice came from seemingly out of nowhere, and in his panicked state, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd, it’s Pixal. What’s happened, why aren’t you responding?”

Oh. It was Pixal, on… on the radio. With trembling fingers, he reached down and switched on his mic. “...Pix?”

“Lloyd, don’t scare me like that, what’s wrong?”

“Pixal… Pixal, I don’t know…” Oh gosh, he was spiraling, spiraling hard, panic swamped his brain as images of his father flashed before his eyes, first running off with the golden weapons, then trying to kill him when the Overlord had taken over, then when he had submerged under the ocean, down, down, down with the Preeminent-

No! Lloyd’s eyes snapped open, scattering the images. He couldn’t be thinking about this now, not- not when-

Oh gosh. His father couldn’t be involved with this gang, he couldn’t. He was gone, gone for good. He missed him, so, so much, but nothing with his father was ever that simple. Something always went wrong, and Lloyd was just beginning to get over his last death, he couldn’t- couldn’t live through the pain again-

“Lloyd, Lloyd listen to me, just try to breathe-”

He could barely hear her. His legs had stopped working, and he sunk to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to remember to breathe. The last thing he needed was to pass out from lack of oxygen.

He buried his face between his knees, gulping through the sobs. Dammit, why was he like this, he hadn’t had an episode this bad since Morro-

And now he was thinking about that part of his life, one he had so desperately hoped to forget- it had been years, why was still not over that, he had gotten good at suppressing those feelings long ago, but when he got like this, he couldn’t control anything-

He hated when he got like this, it was so terrifying, he just wanted to go home, he just wanted Kai to be here, why was he always all alone-

Suddenly, firm, cool arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close. Lloyd gasped, his eyes flying open sharply.

A pair of glowing green eyes stared back at him, shadowed with fear. “Hey,” she whispered, her metallic jaw moving with the words, “I’m here now. You’re going to be okay.”

He had lost it, he was hallucinating, how was- how was she here-

“Pixal?!”

“Yeah,” her voice was quiet, rubbing her fingers across his palm. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“How?”

“I’m Samurai X, Lloyd.”

“Oh.” Vaguely, a part of his mind told him he should be more surprised by that piece of information, but he was just tired. His mind was already on overdrive, he couldn’t afford to take in anything else.

“Lloyd.” Pixal’s voice was scared, and he realized he was trembling in her grip. “Please, what has happened to you?”

“It’s- it’s…” Lloyd gasped for breath. “My dad, he- the biker, he was- he had-” and those words alone were too much. Everything was breaking, splintering apart right in front of his eyes, and he clutched onto Pixal like she was his lifeline- in a way, she was. She felt different from Kai’s warm, soft touch- harder and cooler- but sturdier and stronger, too. And right now, Lloyd could use a bit of strength.

But most of all, she was here.

“Why did you tell me?” He managed to get out. “Out of everyone, you told me first? Not Zane?”

Pixal was silent for a moment. “I know what it’s like. I mean, not exactly- I can’t feel what you are feeling right now. But… feeling emotions has been hard. Draining. You, out of all people, seem to know that. But you’re still so strong through everything. I just… you helped me to see how to heal. How to get better.” She paused, looking down at her hands. “But I guess it doesn’t always work out that way. I figured it was about time I helped you back.”

He leaned his head into her lap, examining her long, silver fingers, brushing them gently. “I like you like this. You’re pretty.”

He wasn’t looking at her face, but he could almost feel her smile. “Thank you. I worked hard to make this. I wanted to make sure… that I was better, this time. I still have some modifications to make, but…”

Lloyd winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I made you show me before you were ready.”

“Lloyd,” she said firmly. “This was my choice. Not yours.” She took one hand and turned his chin so their gazes met, green on green. “I trust you. I always have.”

Lloyd felt his lip tremble. “I-”

Pixal stopped him. “It’s okay, Lloyd. You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Lloyd curled into her side and wept.

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #ninjago lloyd #ninjago pixal #hope you guys enjoyed!#this was really fun to write #i finished it in like three days wow look at me actually being productive for once #but yeah pixal is underrated and i needed to be sure to add her at least once into this found family event #because she's just as much a part of the team as any of them ❤

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

A family reunited - part 2!

Summary: The time has come for Y/N Shelby to explain her five-year disappearance to her family. Tommy, her beloved elder brother, proves to be less than understanding...

Word Count: 3220

A/N: 300 followers?? I still can’t believe it. I know this part 2 has been a long time coming, so I hope it serves as enough of a thank you 😘 I’ve never written a sequel to a fic before, so I don’t know how this will go down, but I hope you like it!! 💜💜

Part 1

Y/N Shelby had loved seeing her family again, she really did: it had been what she'd dreamed of for so long, just for them to know that she was alive had brought her happiness.

What she didn't love was Tommy's booming wake-up call of "FAMILY MEETING AT THE SHOP IN AN HOUR - DON'T BE LATE," at half past 8 in the morning.

Ah, but she sort of did at the same time.

Thinking back to the night before, Y/N found a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading throughout her body and a smile spread across her face as she snuggled back into her pillow. Her eyes began to close again, tempting a few more minutes sleep – surely she would still make the meeting in time?

At the thought of the meeting, however, Y/N suddenly found herself wide awake as she realised what the meeting would be for: she was going to have to explain herself. Y/N was going to have to tell everyone why she disappeared for so many years and what happened in that time. Her stomach began to churn and her mind started to race, trying to hurriedly plan out what she would say, but unsure where to even begin.

Y/N was proud of her work as a spy during the war, but that didn't mean that she was looking forward to reliving some of the details of her story.

Knowing that there was no point in delaying the inevitable for longer than necessary, she dragged herself out of bed and sent up a little prayer for the strength that she so desperately needed.

***

As Y/N walked into the meeting an hour later, she noticed the change in Tommy immediately. Gone was the loving brother that had spent the entire evening practically glued to her hip, and in his place was the cold leader of the Peaky Blinders that Polly had told her about upon her return to Birmingham.

Whilst in hiding, Y/N had seen the impact that the war had had on the men who fought in France, but that didn't stop her heart from breaking slightly as she properly looked at Tommy in the light of day. He had always been quiet and controlled, but never to this extent.

She sat down at the table, and soon enough the whole family were gathered. Y/N couldn't bear to look at them, even though she hadn't said a thing yet. She feared their judgement, and was petrified that they would kick her out when she'd only just got back.

But Y/N knew that in order for this to go the way that she wanted it to, she couldn't afford to let thoughts like that show. Instead, she needed to make it clear to her brothers that she still stood by her decision to leave. She had been made stronger by her mistakes and experiences during her time away, and refused to let them believe otherwise.

So, as Tommy cleared his throat to begin speaking, Y/N took a deep breath and looked up.

"Right, well, we're all here - "

"That we are!" Arthur's hand came down and rested on her shoulder roughly, causing Y/N to smile in amusement.

"Yes, thank you, Arthur." Tommy's gruff voice cut through the joy. "So, Y/N, would you care to tell us where the fuck you've been for five years?"

Out of instinct, the woman in question met her older brother's blue eyes, hoping to find the comfort and support that they had always shown to her in the days before the war. But there was nothing; not even the slightest bit of love, or encouragement, or anger or anything.

In that moment, Y/N realised that no one could help her – only she could tell the story.

And so, she began...

***

A couple of hours later, it was finally over.

Y/N had told them all about how she had been recruited as a British spy, recounted most of her tales (but not all – some of them were still highly confidential and as much as she loved Arthur and John, Y/N wouldn't trust them with a barge pole when it came to keeping secrets), and eventually about her time in hiding and return to Birmingham.

Miraculously, she hadn't shed a single tear. Not even when she'd recounted the worst trappings and beatings. Before coming down to the meeting, Y/N had debated whether or not to tell her family about those times, but in the end she knew that the full truth would come out in time and that it would be better to get all of the pain out of the way at once. Whether that pain was for Y/N or everyone else, she wasn't sure.

But Y/N also hadn't been able to suppress her laughs and smiles at the happier memories: the friends that she'd made, the clubs that she'd danced at undercover, the boys that she'd seduced whether as part of her mission or just for a bit of fun (Tommy may appear to be an expert at controlling his emotions now, but you bet that Y/N didn't miss his jaw clench in protective anger several times).

Now, silence filled the room. A silence that seemed to last for eternity for Y/N. Unable to cope with it for any longer, she spoke again, this time unable to control the waiver of emotion in her voice: "Please say something, anything. You lot have always got something to say," Y/N finished with a slight laugh. Unknowingly, she had directed her words at Tommy, who was staring at her, his eyes as cold as ice. Y/N hated the fact that she sounded like a little girl again, seeking his approval; Tommy's opinion had always been important to her, no matter how many times she had vehemently denied the fact when she was younger.

Surprisingly to her, it was John who spoke first, looking at her directly as he did so. "We're proud of you, Y/N/N."

"Yeah," Arthur continued, gruffly. "Just a fucking lot to take in, is all."

Silence infiltrated the room once more, only cushioned by Polly reaching over to grasp her niece's hand tightly.

Realising that Tommy wasn't going to speak any time soon, Y/N stood up as if to leave, her chair screeching horribly across the floor. "Well if that's it, I'll go and -"

"Why?" Her second eldest brother cut her off. Even though her back was now turned, Y/N felt his gaze burning into her.

"Why?" She repeated, confused, as she turned around.

"You heard me. Why did you go?"

"Christmas had long gone, Tommy. I needed to do something other than sit around in Small fucking Heath waiting for you lot to come back. I tried to help with the business, you know I have ideas. But I got nowhere because I'm a woman, alright? So, when an opportunity arose to go and do something useful, of course I was going to jump at it."

Tommy scoffed. "Do you realise how fucking selfish you sound?"

Y/N's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"Even after you knew that the war wouldn't be ending any time soon, you still went gallivanting off, throwing yourself headfirst into danger. Did you not stop to think that this family could have lost another member? You clearly didn't, because apparently all that matters to you is getting a rush of adrenaline and trying to be the hero."

Crack. The sound of Y/N's open palm meeting Tommy's cheek echoed through the room.

"How dare you, Thomas Shelby." Y/N's voice was deadly quiet, her rage and feelings of betrayal bubbling ferociously inside of her. "How fucking dare you. After everything that I've just told you, you have the nerve to stand there and call me selfish? I knew that when I signed up there was a chance that I might not come back, but I did it anyway, you're right. I did it in the hopes that my work may help to end the bloody war sooner, so that it was more likely that you boys would come home alive. Because if none of you came back, have you thought, Thomas, how wrecked this family would be? Not just emotionally, but financially as well. There would be three women, Finn, and John's kids left and that would be it. We would hardly be able to bring enough money in to keep everyone safe and together forever, at least not until the children had grown up. As much as you might not like it, Tommy, that I knowingly put myself in a situation where I could've been killed, I did it to try and protect this family."

If Y/N had looked around at her family at that moment, she would have witnessed the shock and pain etched onto the face of each person around the table. None of them had realised that she had put so much thought into her decision to leave. Instead her eyes were locked with those of her brother, unwilling to back down.

Breaking the silence, Y/N added bitterly, "Still think I'm selfish, Thomas?"

She didn't know what she'd expected.

Y/N knew that Tommy wouldn't take it all well, and whilst his instinct to protect her and make sure that she was safe typically overrode everything else, she had hoped that he would have at least understood her reasons behind her actions. He had always said that family came before anything else. So, when Tommy barged past her, storming out of the shop and slamming the door behind him, Y/N couldn't help the sob that escaped her.

***

Dusk had settled over the city. Y/N was sat by the Cut, mulling over the events of the last 48 hours.

After Tommy had left, she had broken down completely, letting out all of the emotion that she had kept pent-up for so long. Her siblings, aunt and cousin had told her that Tommy would come around, and that they would do anything that they could for her.

But, as much as she adored her entire family, she needed Tommy; she needed the brother who had stood by her through thick and thin, who had always trusted her judgement and always loved her no matter what. She hadn't realised how much she had needed him until he had turned his back on her completely.

When most of her tears had dried, Y/N left the shop herself, murmuring a quick "I'll be back later" before she did. The family had let her go, knowing that she needed the time and space to process everything and calm down.

A few hours later, she did feel calmer as she took in the familiar surroundings (a hidden spot next to the Cut that her and Tommy had found when they were younger and hiding from their father). That was until she heard footsteps quickly approaching her from behind...

***

Tommy's mind was racing at a mile a minute.

Once again, he'd gone and ruined things with his family. He'd probably destroyed his relationship with Y/N for good, something that he couldn't bear the thought of losing. His little sister meant the world to him; it just hurt him to know that she had been through so much by herself, and that he hadn't been able to stop it. At least in the trenches he'd had his brothers by his side. Y/N had no one.

But he could help her now. He had realised that after hiding himself away in the Garrison with his thoughts. He'd realised that his place was now back by his sister's side once more.

Tommy had made his way back to the shop to try and make amends, and marched straight over to Polly. "Where is she?" His voice may not have shown it to his aunt, but she could see the emotion in his eyes. Polly was glad that her nephew seemed to have got some of his sense back, but she sure as hell wasn't going to make things easy for him. Tommy's behaviour had been despicable, after all.

"She left." Polly said, simply, returning to her work.

"Left?"

"You heard me, Thomas." God, how many times was he going to be full-named today?

"Left where?"

"She didn't say."

Tommy felt a niggle of anxiety stirring in him. "Well, did she say when she'd be back?"

"No." Polly's lips were pursed in irritation.

"You let her wander off alone, I take it, without asking where she was going or what she was doing, eh? Do you know how fucking stupid that is? We've only just got her back, and you're risking losing her again?"

"Perhaps you should listen to your own words. At least I wasn't the one who caused her to have a panic attack." It was harsh, but partly true: the combination of the memories and Tommy's reaction had caused Y/N to spiral.

Tommy froze, worry and guilt consuming him. How could he have let this happen? He had spent half of the night in Y/N's bedroom last night, making sure that she was real and safe, and now she was gone again.

Walking back out of the shop, Tommy found himself hiding in an alleyway, trying to collect his thoughts as his hands shook. Where could Y/N be? Where would she go when she was scared and upset?

Suddenly, he knew.

***

The hurried footsteps drew nearer, and instinct took over Y/N's entire being. She spun around, gun cocked and pointed straight at the source of the noise, her breathing speeding up again as the last ebbs of her panic attack began escalating quickly again.

Any relief that Tommy had felt at finding his sister faded at seeing her distressed state. He raised his hands slowly and spoke softly to her: "It's okay, Y/N/N. It’s just me, it's Tommy. You're home, you're safe." As he continued to offer his reassurances that she wasn't under threat and edged closer to her, he noticed recognition begin to sweep over Y/N.

Her gun clattered to the ground as she broke down into tears again, relaxing into her brother's embrace as he sat down next to her and pulled the young woman into his arms. In that moment, Tommy realised how broken his sister was, how much the war had affected her, just like him.

Eventually, Y/N's breathing became normal again, the sound of Tommy's heartbeat and the gentle hand stroking her hair grounding her.

After a few moments, Tommy mustered up the courage to say the words that had been on repeat in his head for so long. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Y/N looked up at him with those big eyes that had him wrapped around her little finger. "I was...overwhelmed and I lashed out, even though you didn't deserve it. Hell, you probably even saved our lives at some point and all I do is call you selfish. I went too far, and I'm sorry."

Y/N smirked slightly at Tommy's obvious discomfort at his confession, but it melted into a gentle smile when she looked up and was met with his loving yet troubled gaze.

"Thank you, Tommy." His entire demeanour relaxed at these words. "Do you understand though? Do you understand why I did it all in the first place? Do you understand why your reaction broke me? All I needed was for my brother to be there, and you just walked out on me. You promised me that you never would. You promised."

Tommy took her hand tightly in his larger one and nodded slightly, a lump forming in his throat. His other hand settled in his coat pocket as he asked: "Are you really back to stay?" The vulnerability that had been uncovered again last night had now returned.

"Yeah, I am." Y/N squeezed his hand. "Doesn't mean you're completely forgiven yet though; speak to me like that again and I'll cut you a smile on that grumpy face."

Tommy breathed out a slight laugh, despite the threat (which he knew was an honest one). "Oh, I missed you, darling." He wrapped his arm around Y/N and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Missed you too, Tom."

***

The siblings sat there, peacefully, for a little while longer. Whilst part of Y/N was still angry at her brother, she couldn’t deny that she felt at home back by his side, in their special childhood hiding place. So, for now, she decided to put her anger behind her.

Soon enough, the chill of the night air began to settle around them. Tommy offered Y/N a hand up and wrapped his long black coat tightly around her, before the pair slowly started walking back towards the streets of Birmingham.

“I promise I’ll try and be better, for you.” Tommy’s voice cut through the silence. I can’t bear the thought of you leaving again because I pushed you out, he added in his head.

Y/N smiled sadly. “Don't make promises you might not be able to keep, Tom. We’re different people compared to who we used to be. All we can do is try, eh?”

Tommy stopped off at the office to call Polly and let her know that Y/N was staying with him for the night. Y/N found herself looking around the big building, in awe of what her family had managed to achieve.

She plunged her hands in the big pockets of Tommy's coat as a shiver wracked her body, frowning when her fingers touched something familiar. Checking that her brother was still on the phone, she pulled the object out and her eyes widened in surprise as she stared at it. It was a small stuffed toy, shaped to resemble a horse (sort of, it was definitely handmade).

Y/N had loved it when she was younger, and barely used to be seen without it. When she grew into a teenager, she had hidden the toy in her old childhood treasure box and retrieved it when she felt low, even as she had entered adulthood. She had been devastated when she couldn't find it to comfort her the day that her brothers had left for France.

The horse was more frayed and tattered than she remembered, and dirtier too. Y/N had always been meticulous for looking after her possessions, not having much of her own.

Then the explanation for its state and whereabouts dawned on Y/N: Tommy had taken it to France and kept it with him ever since, a constant reminder of her.

Placing the toy carefully back where she found it, Y/N looked through the glass to Tommy’s office with tears in her eyes as he hung up the phone. A small smile flickered across his face as he caught sight of his sister and made his way straight to her, not a single piece of work in his hands.

"Come on," Tommy said, softly. "Let's go home."

As her brother subtly offered her his arm, Y/N felt optimistic about the future for the first time in years. As Tommy rested his hand on top of hers, which now sat in the crook of his arm, one thought crossed Y/N's mind:

Maybe Tommy would try. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

But the Shelby family knew that there was hope, because Tommy's guiding light always came in the form of Y/N Shelby...and she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

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