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#and in exchange i always make sure to compliment you on your creativity! just like ryan does shane!
theghoulboysblog · 5 months
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OH THAT IS SOOO US @thatonegeekygirl WITHOUT A DOUBT!!! 🫶🫶🫶
i am indeed very insanely ryan bergara coded (anxious, talkative, overthinking, easily distracted, and interest-driven!), while you are SO extremely shane madej coded in my opinion lmao. (gentle, creative, accepting, comforting, and also interest-driven!)
SO YES! in summary, we make the best duo ever aurora! <3
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ahundredtimesover · 2 years
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Hiiii how is the love after!couple doing? 🥺💜
Are the girls healthy and happy? 🥺🥺 Guk-ah how is fatherhood going? 💜💜
It's been a while but here we are! I did a reread of TLA and i.hurt.so.much that I just had to write this bc I needed my own closure for all the pain 🥺 so here's a sneak peak into fatherhood and something more. (warning: animal hunting [sorry, rabbits!], sexual content)
Title: The Love After Drabble (06): Do you think it'll ever go away? The guilt of what I've done? || You're reminded of your past
WC: 7,579
From: The Love After (werewolf!JK x human!reader)
##
“Daddy, I want to be a pink wolf!”
“I want to be yellow!”
“But what if you don’t want to be yellow anymore?”
“What if you don’t want to be pink?”
You’ve opened the door by the time your daughters yell out in unison, “daddy, can we change our colors when we get older?”
You gaze at a wide-eyed Jungkook as he sits on the living room floor with Eunjoo and Hayoon on his lap, his mouth open then closing, perhaps trying to figure out how to tell his kids that, no, they can’t be either of those colors; neither can they change them.
He looks back at the 2 pairs of curious eyes and smiles. “Why don’t we ask Amma later, okay?”
“Okay!” They both squeal, turning to face you with a greeting and then focusing on their works again.
Jungkook stands up and helps you with the produce-filled bags and places them on the dining table. 
“We were just coloring and then they decided they wanted to be pink and yellow wolves,” he pouts at you. “I didn’t have the heart to tell them they can’t.”
“Yeah, so you’re gonna let Amma be the one to tell them?” You chuckle. “Back in my day, it was the ‘where did we come from’ question that my parents didn’t wanna answer. Amusing to think that now it’s this.”
“It’s just them, though,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t think any of the other pups in this town want to have bright-colored fur or something.”
“They’re 3 years old, Kook,” you cup his cheek. “They’re being creative and imaginative and that’s normal when they have parents who read them stories every night. They’ll eventually learn the truth and they would’ve outgrown wanting to become pink or yellow or rainbow-colored wolves by then. So you don’t have to worry about disappointing them, okay?”
You know that’s what he’s more worried about - breaking your daughters’ hearts. It’s the one thing he can’t bear to do, and so many times you’ve had to talk about him learning to say no to them, otherwise they’ll grow up thinking that they could get anything they want, and that’s not the kind of world they live in. 
“Fine,” he gives in. “But I’ll really have them ask Amma so I don’t have to answer and see their disappointed faces.”
“Oh, Kook,” you hug him, wanting to comfort your mate who’s made it his goal to always make your daughters laugh and smile. “You’re doing great, okay? We are. I mean, look at them. At that age, Baram was constantly bullying me.”
You and Jungkook laugh as you both soften at the sight of your daughters who exchanged coloring books so they can decorate and draw on what their sister just did. They like sharing things with each other, and that includes their own creations. They like complimenting and hugging each other, too.
“Anyway, was your market run good?” He asks, walking to the kitchen to get the late breakfast dishes that he prepared for all 4 of you. 
“Yes,” you grin. “They finally have persimmons and oranges. I got more fruits and vegetables, too. All for half the price.”
“Perks of being the Beta’s mate,” he winks. 
“Obviously, although I think we would’ve gotten them for free if you were the one who went to buy,” you laugh. 
That wouldn’t be far from the truth. The whole town loves Jungkook, especially those who work at the market because he’s the one who makes sure that their harvests are safe from wild animals. They claim it’s just right that he doesn’t pay much for it; they earn due to his protection, after all. 
“That’s true, but those 2 didn’t want to let me go,” he smiles, thinking back to earlier in the morning. He checked on them in their new bedrooms and they woke up, immediately hugging him.
“They’ve missed you,” you say. “We were at my parents’ for an entire week because you decided to be all ‘father of the century’ by building the second floor so they could have a bigger room. You were gone most of the days and they just want to be with you.”
Jungkook shyly smiles and you melt when he does. He kept his promise of building a second story to accommodate your children. He built 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms upstairs and you were blown away when he revealed it to you and your daughters the other day. They squealed in excitement because they could finally have a big space for all their toys. 
You don’t know how Jungkook managed to do it in such a short time, but perhaps that has a lot to do with all the help from the townspeople and members of the pack. He rarely ever asks  for help, Taehyung told you, so when he inquired about plumbing and bathroom tiles, people were quick to offer. 
The second floor is stunning and you’re still in the process of designing it. But it took so much of Jungkook’s time, and so when your daughters woke up to their daddy’s voice, you’re sure they were ecstatic to spend the morning with him, too.
“They seem to like their room a lot,” Jungkook hums. “We were playing there earlier and they asked me to make a dresser and a chest for their things. I’ve got designs in my head already and I can’t wait to make them.”
“How are our daughters just 3 yet they already know what they want and how to get it?” You chuckle. Sure, they grow almost twice as fast as normal humans do, but still, a lot of the things they do surprises you.
“They get it from you,” he laughs now. “And they probably know that I’d do anything for them. I tell them every night.”
“I really hope we’re not raising spoiled kids, Kook,” you furrow your brows. 
“We aren’t. You’ll make sure of that.”
“Hey!” You nudge his knee. “I’m not the only one who’s gonna keep them in place.”
“Fine, fine. We both will,” he smiles. 
Parenting werewolves is not easy, and for a time, Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever be having this conversation with his mate. Neither did he think he’d ever be able to make this cabin feel like a home for a family, and now, there’s 2 storeys of it filled with nothing but warmth and love that all 4 of you share. He can’t wait to share it with more.
Eunjoo and Hayoon go to you once you call them, and they haven’t really outgrown sitting on both your laps during meals so they could hug you while they eat. 
It’s one of your favorite things as a parent, you think, as Hayoon wraps her arms around your neck after a mouthful of grilled fish and rice. She goes back to sitting on your lap to feed herself, and then lays her head on your chest. Eunjoo does something similar with Jungkook, and you both share a look as if to say that you both did this. 
All those times of having them sleep in between you and Jungkook and reading them stories and humming them lullabies; all those afternoons of laying on the grass while you all make out the shapes of the clouds; all those evenings of sitting on the couch at the porch, hugging each other under the light blanket - perhaps both your daughters keep all these moments as memories, too, and their affection is all the love they’re returning because of your love that they feel everyday. 
“Daddy, will you take us to Amma? I want to ask about our fur,” Eunjoo looks at him sweetly.
You stifle a laugh as Jungkook sighs. 
“Yes, angel. I’ll take you and your sister to her,” he says, hugging her back after she squeals. “And you can play with your cousins and the other kids there, too.”
It’s a Saturday, after all, and a lot of families go to the pack house and Amma’s residence to gather over food and conversations while the pups listen to stories and play around the garden by the pond. It’s like a daycare center there, and you’re glad there’s a place for your children to grow and learn about themselves where they’re safe and comfortable.
“I have a meeting with my brothers,” he turns to you. “Are you sure you don’t need my help at your parents’?”
“No need,” you assure him. “Mother just needs someone to carry around furniture and boxes since she wants a repaint. I can handle it.”
Jungkook nods and you both return to your meals, chuckling when the kids slurp their bowls dry and then finish a large piece of orange each. You decide to clean up in the kitchen while he gives them both a bath, and you all spend time choosing the girls’ outfits for today’s afternoon at the pack house. 
“Bye, mommy!” They both yell, kissing you sweetly before jumping into their father’s arms. “We’ll see you later!”
You kiss Jungkook and watch them get in the car, gushing at how attached your children are to both of you. 
You get back in the cabin and look around, checking every corner to see if there’s something you need to clean or put in order. After rearranging some things, you head out to the backyard and see the remaining slabs of wood that Jungkook didn’t use for the second floor. Those might be for your daughters’ chest and dresser, you think. Some of his tools are still outside, including the one ax that he accidently broke. 
You’re reminded again of all the work Jungkook did to continuously make this place a home for your family, and you don’t think you can ever thank him enough. You suppose that a good dinner of rabbit stew and some chicken spinach pies would be a good start. 
**
“Just a little more to the left,” your mother instructs you, and you do as she says before she releases another breath. “Good, you did it. You’re fine.”
“You do know I have superhuman strength now, right?” You laugh at her, knowing that she tends to still worry whenever you lift heavy things. “I can do all this and not break a sweat.”
“I know, my dear. I still need a lot of getting used to,” she smiles. “Both my daughters are incredibly strong beings and well, good on us for not needing to hire more people to fix the house.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll try to learn to paint for you,” you tease. “Jungkook could be your foreman or something.”
“Ah, I don’t want to add to his responsibilities anymore,” she hums. “He’s doing so much fixing your own place and being an amazing father to your 2 girls. He needs to spend the remaining time he has of not working and patrolling with you.”
“I know, but it’s not a big deal,” you assure her. “We spend time together as much as we can. And it’s been a tough few months for him, too; he’s just been needing care and reassurance more than anything. Being mates allows us to just know what the other needs, you know?”
“That’s good,” your mother smiles, cupping your cheek as she walks towards you. “And you’re good at that - giving care and reassurance.”
“Am I already?” You wonder out loud. 
You hate to think of a time when it wasn’t the case, and the thought of those months of ignoring Jungkook, shutting him out, and putting him in danger causes an ache in your heart. You’ve tried to make up for all those times but you don’t know if anything you do will also ever be enough. 
“Of course, my dear,” she nudges you, acting upset that you’d think otherwise. “He wouldn’t be looking as happy as he does whenever he talks about you if you weren’t. It makes my mornings.”
“And when does this happen?” You arch an eyebrow.
“During the days when he comes over some with meat after a hunt. About twice a week,” she informs you. “He has that glimmer in his eyes, you know? It makes me so thankful that you were fated to him. I just knew he’d love you so well, the kind that would let someone as hurt as you open up completely to him and love him just as much.”
The words are meant to be comforting, and you know your mother means well - she laid witness to you shutting out the entire world after all, and she’d been one of those to ask you to give Jungkook a chance. You just can’t help sometimes but think of how hurt he must’ve been feeling so unwelcomed, unwanted.
You’ll never know what that’s like; that’s the last thing Jungkook would ever make you feel. Even when he’s hurt and dealing with his own pains, he seeks for you. 
Like that time a townsman was attacked by a wild boar, leaving him in critical condition, and Jungkook blamed himself for failing to protect him. Or just recently when Mr. Roi, the owner of the workshop he works at, passed away due to an aneurysm and Jungkook was upset that he hadn't sensed it sooner. 
He was hard on himself both times but he let you hold him. He was upset and grieving but he let you comfort him. He let you share all that pain with him, and not once did you feel like he wanted to go through all that on his own. 
“You okay, sweetie?” Your mother’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 
“Yeah, just… thinking. You’re right,” you manage a smile. “Jungkook loves with all of him. The girls and I are so lucky.”
“Well, they’re lucky they have you, too,” she comforts, kissing your forehead. “So I was wondering… what do you think about redesigning your bedroom so it could accommodate your family? Perhaps getting rid of your desk and bookshelf to fit 2 double beds?”
“What for?”
“Well, your father and I were thinking that it would be nice to have you and your sister and your families here some weekends,” your mother says. “Your kids are growing so, so fast and we don’t want to blink and miss all that. And well, it gets lonely here sometimes. And with your grandfather gone…” she trails, her voice dropping low at the thought of how much she misses him. “It’s just… we want to spend time with all of you, all at once. Is that alright?”
“That sounds good,” you say. “The girls will outgrow the double bed but uh, maybe sometime in the future, we could build an extra room just off the living room? Or we could convert grandfather’s—”
“No,” she interjects. “I mean, not yet. I’m… I’m not yet ready to let him go like that.”
You mirror the sadness in her eyes, and though it broke you when your grandfather passed, you can’t imagine how it must’ve been for your mother who’s spent all her life with him. You understand wanting to keep people who have passed in spaces, in things. It lets us feel like they’re still here. 
“Okay,” you say. “We can redesign the rooms. I’ll ask Jungkook to help out one weekend.”
Your mother returns your smile and you both get back to work, emptying the living room so the painters could prepare it for tomorrow. 
It’s mid afternoon by the time you finish, and you say your goodbye to head home and start preparing for dinner. You work on your dough and filling for the pies, deciding that you’ll go for a hunt while they’re setting. 
You’ve never joined Jungkook on a hunt. Ever since your transformation, you’d only ever shifted to run into the mountains or when you feel like your family is in danger. Jungkook had always insisted it was his job to do that, and he knows this area more than anyone; hunting is his thing and there was never a need for you to do it. 
Not unless you want to surprise him, of course. 
Rabbit stew has become his favorite ever since you prepared it for him one night years ago, when you redid the Ceremony dinner at the cabin. That was the night you admitted what you felt for him, and you have a feeling that Jungkook ties that meaning to the dish. So every time you feel like showing him how you feel - however that is - you make him stew. 
There were no rabbits from yesterday’s hunt so you decide to look for them yourself. You shift into your wolf form and head out, trying to remember Jungkook’s hunting strategies that he’s shared with you. You look for fresh prints, sniff their scent, and let the animal in you dictate where to go. 
It doesn’t take long for you to sense movement from the meadows a few kilometers away. As you follow the sound, you know it’s what you’re looking for. There are 2 of them and their prints are heavy; they’re big, enough for your family of 4.
You run faster, not wanting them to wander farther. You sneak up on the pair and instantly catch one, alerting the other. You follow, scanning the field before you and knowing that you could easily outrun it, back it into a corner and then call this hunt a success.
The rabbit is fueled by adrenaline, running faster than you expected and heading towards a body of water that you know it hates. But you take this opportunity by outrunning it, growling as you go and then pouncing on it once it nears a boulder. 
You’ve got it, the wolf in you rejoices. You know once you shift back into human form, you won’t remember much of this; it’s your first time, anyway. It’s why Jungkook doesn’t let you hunt; once you do it regularly, it becomes a part of you, and killing prey is not something he wants you to get used to, much as it’s for survival. He’s there to do it, it’s in his nature unlike you, a human by birth. 
One thing you learned after your transformation is that you don’t retain much of your memory as a wolf when you’re in your human form. But when you’re in your wolf form, your memory as a human remains, balancing you. Amma has said once that it's what reminds you of who you are by nature, that having your human memories is one way to ensure that you don’t remain as a wolf. 
It’s why once your forelegs hit the water, you remember. 
The breeze that evening. The cold water. The sound of the river’s current. 
You remember the feel of the boulder against your soaked body. How hard it was. How it diluted the blood that was seeping out of your head.
The sun had set then, like now. There were wildflowers on the riverbed, like now. 
You’re growling, but back then, it wasn’t yourself that you heard - it was another wild animal, big and black and angry.
It was here, years ago, when that bear attacked you, when you were close to giving up, and when Jungkook saved you. He took you on his back and ran as fast as possible to take you to safety. He was frantic in the pack house as he demanded the doctors to save you. It was the same night when you broke his heart for the millionth time by saying that the cabin wasn’t your home, that he wasn’t your home. 
You haven’t been here since that night. You hate that it took away from the good memories you had here with Yoongi before, and being back here brings you back to that time when you almost gave up on yourself. When you almost gave up on Jungkook.
The human fear and sadness from that time alerts you that you have to leave, that you have to shift back. So you run as fast as you can and head back home, prey in hand, and tears in your eyes. 
**
Standing in your shower as you wash away the blood from your body, you feel betrayed. You aren’t supposed to remember much of what you saw but you remember it. You remember everything.
Perhaps it’s because those were your human memories and that’s why it’s as clear as day; being in that place as a wolf doesn’t mean you’ll forget what you experienced. 
Because you’re here now, unable to move, feeling an unnameable type of pain that’s familiar, and it hurts so bad. If it wasn’t for your timer going off to say that your pot is boiling, you’d be staying here for hours.
It felt so vivid. You didn’t think that being back there would make you recall how it was that night even if you didn’t remember much right after. It’s been years, after all, but as you caress your neck to feel the mark of your bond, you know why you feel empty yet heavy; you know why you feel like your heart is being ripped apart even as it beats rapidly. 
It may be your memory, but it’s Jungkook’s pain you’re feeling. 
The sight of you helpless. The thought of you giving up, of losing you for good. 
The thought of him withering away at the loss of you. 
The thought of never having this home, this family, this love. 
You exit the bathroom and see your bed, and you remember the nights you spent holding his hand because he’d been weak, because you’d selfishly taken all his energy, because you’d taken so much of him without giving anything in return. 
You remember the fear you felt of losing him, the guilt of hurting him, and the worry that you might never be able to make it up to him.
You feel Jungkook’s pain. And yours. All at once.
**
You’re surprised you manage to make a decent-tasting rabbit stew and not burn the pies given how absent-minded you’ve been since you got back from your hunt. You suppose it’s due to muscle memory; you’ve made these dishes so many times before. Just like as it’s reflex for you to turn to the door once to hear it unlock, even if you’re unable to fully process what’s happening. 
“Mommy!” Eunjoo and Hayoon greet in unison as they run to you for a hug. 
“Welcome back,” you coo, taking them into your arms and giving them a tight hug. If there’s anything to remind you that everything from earlier is a memory, it’s them - the manifestation of the love you share with your mate. “How was your afternoon?”
They yell over the other about things they did, but you pick up that they listened to some stories, planted flowers, and fed the fish in the pond. 
“I’m glad you both had a great time there,” you kiss their noses. “Did you give daddy a hard time?”
They look at each other before smiling and squealing, in unison, no. You cock an eyebrow at them before looking to your husband for the truth.
“They wanted to follow the ducks into the lake,” he playfully shakes his head. “They said they want to learn to float in the water or something.”
“Oh, my babies. You’ll learn to do more than that,” you smile, kissing them again before letting them jump on the couch and turning the TV on.
“Hey,” Jungkook kisses your lips now. He turns his head towards the pot and his eyes get bigger. “Rabbit stew? How… how did you get the meat?”
“I hunted,” you smile, letting it fade right after. 
“You, what? Hey, that’s my job,” he pouts.
“I know, but I wanted to surprise you with your favorite dish,” you reply. “It was a quick hunt. And it won’t happen again.”
He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to say more, but he just kisses your forehead and whispers his thanks when you don’t.
“Can you set up the table, please? I should be done soon.”
Jungkook does as you ask, and it’s not long after when the 4 of you are seated on the dining table, with Eunjoo and Hayoon taking turns narrating - with more details - what happened today. You’re amused, as you always are. They’re only 3 but they can do so much; they’re still babies in your eyes and perhaps they’ll always be. 
You nod and ask questions, but you think that Jungkook can sense something is wrong, as he takes your hand under the table and catches your eye when you look his way. You fake a smile to assure him, even if you know he can see right through you. 
“Mommy, I’m tired,” Eunjoo says after squealing about how cute ducks are. She lays her head on the table and Hayoon does the same, facing her. 
“I’m sure you both are,” Jungkook says, taking both girls in his arms. “Why don’t mommy and I get you 2 ready for bed, huh?”
“Okay!” They both speak at the same time.
“Leave these here first,” he tells you. “Let’s tuck them in, together.”
You nod and follow, with Jungkook leading the way to their bathroom. 
Your daughters imitate ducks as you bathe them in their tub, and you watch in awe as Jungkook plays along with them. He knows just what to do to get their attention, and you adore the way he takes care of them - making sure the water’s not too hot or cold, massaging their heads as he shampoos their hair, then wiping them dry once they decide another time that they’re both tired. 
Snug in their towels, he lays them on their beds. “Tell mommy how much you love her, okay?” He whispers in both their ears, although it’s something you hear. He turns to you and says he’ll start cleaning up downstairs and you nod in response.
It’s more quiet with you and your daughters now. You want to savor this time with them as you gaze at their eyes that are just like their father’s. Energetic as they are, they have his warm heart and his affection, too, as they hug you tightly and tell you that they love you very much, and it’s not just because their daddy told them so.
You wish them goodnight and head down the stairs, no longer surprised when you see that in a short amount of time, Jungkook’s managed to clean everything up. 
“I’m outside,” he calls out once he hears you’re back.
You walk out onto the porch, letting the cool wind embrace you. He’s sitting on the couch, looking out into the forest. He turns to you with a comforting smile. 
“Hey,” he says.
There’s so much warmth in his eyes. You often wonder how the fiercest wolf of the pack can have so much tenderness in his body. It’s in the way he speaks to you, looks at you, holds you. You don’t want to imagine a world where you don’t experience this; you hate to think that there was a moment where it could’ve been taken away from you, where all this could’ve been taken away from him.
You give in, knowing that at the end of the day, he’s all you need.
You sit yourself on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, your face finding refuge at the crook of it. You breathe against his skin but the tears sting your eyes. You let them fall anyway.
His large hands envelope you - one holds your hip against him, the other caresses your back. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after a while.
“I was chasing the rabbits and I ended up at the river,” you finally say. “The one… the one where I fell, where there was, uh. Where you saved me.”
You turn to face him, tear-stained cheeks hurting him as he looks at you.
“And then I remembered,” you continue. “I remembered almost giving up. I remembered almost letting go.”
The words pierce through. Jungkook remembers it, too. He remembers your faint heartbeat and the way you’d slowly loosened your grip on that boulder. He remembers feeling like his world was ending, seeing you helpless and scared.
“I haven’t gone there since that day. And being there again just… I…”
You break into a sob before you can say more. It’s overwhelming to feel this much sadness, this much regret. It’s as if seeing where it all happened after you’d buried that memory made your life in the past few years flash before your eyes, as if all that’s good was being stripped away from you. 
And it almost felt like your heart was being torn into pieces. The way it tore Jungkook’s. Perhaps that’s what you felt - his heart at that moment, breaking. 
He wishes he was there with you so you didn’t have to go deep into the memory, that he could protect you from all that hurts you. He can, but not from this. 
“I wasn’t good to you, Jungkook,” you say this time, eyes glazed from all the tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey,” he exclaims. “We’re past that. There’s nothing to apologize for anymore.”
“It’s so heavy,” you sigh, breathless, as you clutch your chest. “It’s hard to breathe. I keep thinking of everything I put you through, of every time I pushed you away and kept you out, all the times that I made you feel unwanted, that I made you feel like I would never love you. I keep thinking that I… hurt you. So much. And I didn't… I didn’t stop.”
“Look at me,” he urges you, his own eyes glassy now at the sight of you carrying all this burden. “Feel this.”
Jungkook takes your hand to his chest. 
“My heart is beating, the way yours is. They’re connected. We’re alive and we’re safe and we’re home. We made it that way because we chose to try, because we chose to move past all that happened because we wanted this. We wanted to love each other. And I don’t doubt that love even for a second,” he says, desperate for you to listen to his words. “Whatever parts of me you hurt, you’ve healed them. Everyday that I come home to you and our children, I heal. You heal me. That’s all that matters.”
Jungkook always said he’s not good with words. But you disagree. Every time he speaks like this, he heals you just as much.
“I don’t ever want to live a life that isn’t with you,” you manage to say. “I don’t ever want to live a life where I’m not loved by you.”
“And you won’t ever know a life like that,” he assures you. “I’d save you in a heartbeat, ___. I’d save you a thousand times a day if I have to.”
**
It feels like hours that Jungkook holds you - on his lap while your head rests on his chest. You just want to feel his warmth, feel his heart, the one that’s connected in so many ways to yours.
“Let’s have a bath, okay?” He says.
You wrap your arms around his neck again. “Okay.”
This attachment tells Jungkook you don’t want to let go, so he stands up and carries you in his arms, walking both of you towards the bathroom. You remove yourself from him once he places you on the floor, and he tells you to wait for him as he fills up the tub.
He returns to you right after and kisses your forehead before undressing you, slowly removing your shirt and then your jeans. He helps you get rid of your undergarments, leaving you bare for him. 
Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off you as he undresses himself, but he keeps them on your face, studying the sadness emanating from it. 
He’s bare in seconds, and he takes your hand and guides you towards the tub - the one he built, wooden and deep and spacious for both of you. 
“Come,” he whispers. 
You follow, sitting yourself between his legs and laying against his chest. 
You and Jungkook do this often. Though neither of you ever gets tired, your shared warm bath helps your bodies relax. It lets you feel close to each other, too, and it’s times like this when you feel what he’s said - that your hearts and your bodies are connected. 
He kisses you tenderly, starting from your temple to your cheeks, inching downward until he reaches your neck and then the mark that bears your oneness. 
There’s a certain kind of emotion that stirs within you whenever he does that, and you sigh in relief, because that’s what the act usually does - it assures you, comforts you, unburdens you to some extent and lets you breathe. 
You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re starting to feel lighter with just this. 
“You held onto me, you know?” He speaks after a while. “During those times, you made me feel like you still needed me in your own ways. Even if it was just my warmth, you’d move closer, and anytime I could see that you liked what I could give, it made it all worth it. And then you called for me that night. I… I knew then that you needed me and I wasn’t ever gonna let you go.”
You turn to him with questioning eyes. 
“That night? After the attack?” You ask. 
Things were hazy for you but you know nothing about calling for him. You turned him away after all, and said he wasn’t home.
“You did,” Jungkook hums, recalling the car ride home and taking you to your room. “We were back at your parents’ house and I was… well, I was a mess. It was hard seeing you in pain and I just cried. I kept crying, actually.” He chuckles, trying to make light of it. “You were asleep but you were tossing and turning. A bad dream, I think. So I just held your hand and then you called my name. It was a whisper but I heard it. Whatever the reason, I just felt like somewhere deep down, you needed me.”
“Maybe I did,” you nod, smiling despite the tears in your eyes. “‘Maybe I didn’t know it then but my heart did. My heart knew it needed you.”
“It’s a good way of looking at it, right?” He smiles back.
“It is. But it doesn’t mean I’m any less sorry,” you pout now. 
“I know, and I wish I can change your mind.”
Jungkook has a forgiving heart. You’ve always known it. He told you once that he lacks the strength that you have but you know it takes courage to forgive. And he forgives you every time. He does it without fail. 
You think about this as you both finish your bath. You gaze at him and watch his every forgiving and loving movement as he wipes you dry and leads you back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him bare against you, you trace his face as you hover over him, having slid in between his legs again so you can look at him fully. 
He’s a lot softer now. You remember you used to see tenderness only in his eyes. His face was always so hard, so strained. You’d find out later on just how much he was holding back on a lot of things. But  now, he melts into your touch and it says of how much that’s changed. 
You wonder if you’ll ever stop thinking about it - how much you hurt him, how close you were to not having him. Everything he is now may be because of you, but a lot of who he was back then was because of you, too.
You lay on top of him, your chest flushed against his. You listen to his heartbeat while his fingers trace patterns on your back. It’s soothing more than anything, and it’s what prompts you to ask.
“Do you think it’ll ever go away?” You wonder out loud. “The guilt of what I’ve done?”
You push yourself up to look at him, curious if he’d fallen asleep because of his silence. 
“I wish it would,” he finally says. “I can’t… I can’t lose you to your thoughts.”
Not again, he doesn’t say. 
You feel things. Too much sometimes. Guilt is not an exception. And he worries that if you keep that with you, it might be what would pull you both apart.
But you know what he means without him saying it. You lived in your mind and in your pain all those months, and he lost you to them before he could even have you. And this… this might not be any different.
What is guilt but chains, you think. Guilt isn’t love. It doesn’t make the other person feel loved. Maybe it’s what would drive them away. 
“We should be enough, don’t you think? Me, this home, our girls?” Jungkook asks, almost desperately. “Love got you this, not guilt.”
“I’m scared that the more I think of how much you love me, I’ll think of how you’d done that so selflessly. And that’s why the guilt creeps in, like it did today,” you try to explain. “Because you had to lose so much of yourself for me to see how much I needed you. And you still had so much to give.”
“I’ll always have a lot to give. Because I take from you,” he says, caressing your mark. “That’s what’s so beautiful about this - we give to each other and we take from each other. And we’ll never run out. And so that guilt? I’ll take it from you, I’ll share it with you. Maybe that’s how it goes away.”
“I don’t want to feel it anymore. Because I don’t want you to feel it,” you pout. 
Maybe that’s how it goes away, you think. 
“Then we won’t feel it,” he chuckles softly. “But know that whatever it is that’s inside you, it’s mine, too. You’re my mate, ___. I’m here because of you.”
You nod vigorously as tears slide down your cheeks again. “Okay. We’ll share it all. We’ll share everything.”
There’s clarity in your eyes. There’s acceptance. There’s understanding and remembrance of the promise you made to the Moon and to each other. And as you look back at him, he feels you slowly give all that guilt up so he can take pieces of it from you.
You kiss his lips once, and then another time. The next is long and deep, and the way you pull the tips of his hair and push against him tells him what you need.
He needs it, too, so he helps you mount him, your hands now on his shoulders as your lips glide against his hard cock. His hands on your waist guide you as you move until you give him that look that lets him know where you want him this time. 
Jungkook lets you slide down on him, his tip hitting your edges right away and this is how you want it tonight - you want to feel it all. You want to take control at the beginning and give it all to him. You want to look into his eyes as you move up and down on his shaft while moaning his name. 
He matches your movements, pushing upwards just as hard so he could feel every inch of you, too. He sits up and you come the first time when he swallows your breast, his tongue swirling around your pert nipple. He lets you come down from your high as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head against your chest while it heaves to let him know how good he made you feel. 
There are no other words said. You both know what the act of mating does and with how heavy it’d been, doing this all night is what you both need to once more feel that oneness, to feel that sharing of pain and hurt, to give and take each other’s strength. 
Because behind the pleasure is that trust, that undeniable connection. It’s the love that courses through your veins and that you hear in each other’s beating hearts; it’s the loss of breath and moans of your names, the glassy eyes and trembling lips as you let each other know just how healing this love is because it’s meant to. 
Because that’s what it means when you’re fated with someone - you feel their pain and their joy like it’s yours. You trust that at your most vulnerable, they’ll hold you like you’ll break but they won’t treat you like you’re fragile. And they’ll kiss all the broken parts of you and love you hard until you’re whole.
“Sleep,” he tells you after you come for the fourth time, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “It’ll all be better in the morning.”
**
The sun is high, almost blinding. Your book isn’t big enough to block its shine but it still works. The wind is cool and the day is too nice for it to not be spent outside.
And it’s where you are - at the meadow where you’d fallen asleep before the incident by the river. Jungkook thought it would be nice to bring the girls somewhere new where they could ride their new bicycles after having just learned, and you were the one who suggested this place. 
He was unsure - you’d cried about the painful memories of that night and its aftermath just last week - but he gave in after you said that you’re feeling better, and that maybe the guilt can completely go away if you replace the bad memories with good ones. Eunjoo and Hayoon were running around and picking flowers earlier, and their squeals and sounds of wonder have been all worth it. 
Jungkook’s smile is worth it, too. Laid on his lap, you lower your book to get a peek of your mate, and the look of pure joy he has on is indescribable. The sparkle in his eyes whenever he watches your daughters is something you hold dear in your heart; you’re glad it’s the one image you can’t ever get out of your head.
“Careful, you two!” He calls out after Eunjoo falls to the side. 
She quickly stands up and waves at both of you. “I’m okay, daddy! I’m strong!”
“You’re still a child, though,” he answers back.
“But I’m a strong child! See? No booboos!” She counters, earning you and Jungkook a laugh.
“Look at them go,” you say, humming when he combs your hair with his fingers. “They were latching on to me not long ago and now, they’ll bike and run around for as long as they can.”
“Our kind really grows too fast,” he chuckles. “They’ll probably be jumping over rocks and running up mountains in no time.”
“I wish time would stop,” you sigh. “Just so we can savor these moments with them. And just so we won’t have our babies no longer needing us so soon.”
“Well, time won’t stop but you do know that we have a lot of time,” he says. “You know what that means.”
“Uh, I’m not sure I do?” You sit up and face his smirking form.
“We can always have more pups,” he shrugs, the statement so casual as if it’s that easy to just decide on having more children. “The girls are grown. We can handle things. I… I’d like to think we love each other even more now. What do you think?”
The thought of it excites you. Sure, there are so many things to consider. But you’d like to think that with all that’s happened in the past years, and especially last week, there’s so much more for you to give. 
You look at Jungkook and the way his eyes shine and his smile softens when he talks about your daughters. There was a time when all he had was an empty cabin and himself - none of your nightly family cuddles on the porch, none of the snowball fights during winter, none of the laughter and giggles and homemade pies and handmade wooden toys that you all bond over. 
Home has become more than a structure for Jungkook, it’s now more than a dream - it’s people he loves and he’ll continue to love. And you know you want to give that to him. You want to give him that joy of being able to create a bigger home with more children he’ll care for, because you know that there’s so much space for his incredible heart for that.
“Okay,” you smile. “I’d love to have more children with you, Kook.”
He can’t contain his smile, and all he can do is hug you tightly and let you feel through this how much it means to him. You hug him back and kiss his cheek, and he can tell that you want this, too.
“Family hug!” Hayoon squeals once she turns towards your direction, and it’s not long after when both girls are running towards you, squeezing themselves in between the spaces and hugging you and Jungkook.
Their giggles are music to your ears, and the image of more of them doing this with you makes your heart jump. Your home will be bigger, and you can’t wait for that, too.
##
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theladyofshalott1989 · 3 months
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Hello.. 👋🏻
I read your answer about the motivation to write with low engagement and want to thank you for your words, because I currently struggle a little with this topic.
I love to write, always have, but beeing in the HL fandom helped me to (more or less) consistently write and publish something. For the last months I changed from writing mainly little snippets, to focus on my long fic, because I finally want to put everything on paper, that lingers in my mind. 😅
And I will keep writing, because it has become very personal and some sort of healing for me.
But from time to time I struggle, because I think it's not good enough. There are people who read it, but barely any engagement. And I want to learn and become better so badly.
Sometimes I think, it's because my first language isn't English and I can't convey all the feelings with my translation. But then, it's not that the original is doing so much better.. 😅
I'm sorry for venting to you and it feels a little weird because I don't want to fish for compliments.😅
But maybe you have some tricks up your sleeve that can help with the feeling to be not good enough? Or writing better in general? 😊
Hi! Thank you so much for your ask. First off, you are not alone. Your feelings are valid and shared by many, myself included. <3 I am so glad that HL brought you back to writing. It was the same for me too, and I will also be forever grateful for that. Before I share my practical tips, I want to establish that engagement does not always equal quality. It could FOR SURE (I am not calling out anyone here!), but, like with all things, certain tropes/pairings/topics are more popular in one fandom than the next. Sometimes someone started writing at the perfect time, usually right when a new fandom pops up, or they are uber talented and can provide not only a story but also fan art! Those people blow my mind and I have so much respect for them.
But I digress! Onto the practical tips... Keeping in mind that I do not always follow my own advice, so typing this up is making me laugh at myself. (It's good to laugh at yourself sometimes though.) 1. Pick up another hobby so writing isn't your only one. For me, it's classes at my local gym. IMO, an active hobby is the most helpful because the endorphin rush helps a lot. 2. Set a day aside each week where you do not go online at all. I did this during peak Covid, and it was so therapeutic. Our minds are not designed to be constantly on. We need a break from social media and the internet every so often. 3. If you can, find a small group of buddies and interact with them. <3 My HL buds keep me sane a lot of the time. They're lovely people too and they've introduced me to other fandoms as well. 4. Block tags and/or blogs you're not interested in seeing. I have only blocked one blog (I'll be transparent here: it's the Hogwarts: Legacy Confessions blog, just for my own personal sanity; no hate toward the creators at all), but I block a lot of tags for personal reasons, and it really does help a lot.
5. Have you tried a review exchange? On Reddit there are groups that swap and review each others' stories. I've done this a few times for some of my one-shots and it's great! You can even specify if you want critique (or not). I can send you links to these subreddits if you wish. Just let me know! I really hope these tips help. Also, please never apologize for venting. Putting yourself out there creatively is a very vulnerable thing; it's only natural to be upset when you feel like you don't get out what you put in. <3
My messages are always open too. Please don't hesitate to reach out!
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minban · 3 months
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zed relationship with yasuo had been rather tumultuous, the off again and on again where one encounter might be passionate and the next full of vitriol. So, when he had shown up unannounced to his apartment and been greeted with a startled blonde, whose wide eyes had made him almost hesitate to ask where yasuo was, the last thing he had anticipated was that the two of them would get along.
They sit across from each other at the dining table, the whole process of zed making them the hot chocolates that now separated them, billowing steam, had felt familiar and fluent, as if he had always lived there. Lissom hands cradle the beverage as if warming themselves, Kaveh’s eyes had wandered along the tattoos weaving their way from his wrist to his bicep and the conversation had begun. “ I designed them.” He said coolly. The geometric shapes that eased into vibrant koi with delicate line-art, the sharp, dark edges of tribal tattoos that encompassed them. The way they all flowed elegantly made no sense considering the incongruous art styles flushed together but to the eye it was appealing, he had made sure of it.
“ I wasn’t always into it but when I moved from music I had to go somewhere.” His smile held the vestiges of sorrow that originated in those years dedicated to learning guitar and writing songs that had withered away into a new beginning in tattooing. “ tell me about yourself, other than being someone yasuo is fucking.” He says it so casually that it almost felt disconcerting, as if they were discussing the weather. “ As someone he was also fucking I know he has a liking for interesting people.” Which could have been considered a compliment.
@raytm / an uninvited and most wonderful guest
there is no denying the shock and confusion that kaveh feels upon opening the door for the stranger to have a wisp of his roommate's name on his tongue, said with such familiarity and longing that kaveh's weariness quickly morphs into concern. if this is truly someone that yasuo knows, then kaveh would be rude to not invite his guest into their house, and it's with that thought that he ushers this man into the apartment. they learn of each others names quickly as they walk around each other in the kitchen to get themselves situated at the table with drinks and snacks. kaveh smiles merily at this easy exchange, finding it quite nice that man is so comfortable with making himself at ease, stranger he might be, he is yasuo's acquaintance and kaveh would be besides himself if he were to make zed feel uncomfortable. he pushes the plate of sweets closer to zed, beckoning the man to eat as much as he pleases.
a touch of embarrassment brings a flush to his cheeks for being caught staring so openly at his new friend's tattoos. he can't help it, finding the array as fascinating as they are pretty, meshing different styles together in a way where kaveh would wish to study, taking his time taking apart each piece and admiring the beauty them all. it is a small blessing that zed does not point out how rude it is to stare and instead pushes on to speak of himself. and kaveh finds this man even more intriguing with the knowledge that the tattoos are of his own making, each one designed by the man who sits across from him. he takes a sip of his own hot cocoa as he takes in that knowledge, questions upon questions already pouring into his brain to inquire upon.
for now, those questions are withheld and stowed away for a later time. "i understand," kaveh nods, "channeling your creative outlet into another form of art can be soothing even if the medium is different to what you know. as someone who is into the arts, keeping my hands busy means that i'm also keeping my mind busy." the reason for the shift is another point that peaks kaveh's interest, and it is just another piece of information that he will have to stash away until the topic is brought up again. politeness in refraining from asking the question on kaveh's end does not stop his mind from trying to slot together information, already well aware of yasuo's career and what might have intertwined these two together.
"ah..." one of those questions is answered as they continue their conversation. crude as the statement is that it brings color to kaveh's face, it would be hard to disprove that yasuo has already had his hands on him when there is so much proof in both their conversation and the marks showing on kaveh's skin where his blouse does not cover. in his own home, he did not even consider how he might have looked to a stranger when he had opened the door to allow zed in. just the same, kaveh is not at all surprised to hear that zed is also someone who has been victim to yasuo's clutches. zed is pretty, charming, and he has been wonderful company in the short time that kaveh has come to know him. it is no wonder that yasuo had been well acquainted with zed.
kaveh wonders, then, what it would be like for yasuo to still find interest in the man who sits across from him. there is no jealousy that comes to him as he had originally thought, just a mere curiosity that may allow kaveh a moments break from his roommate's rather intense attention. to have someone to share with would not be so bad, and the prospect has him smiling to himself. he will keep zed here until yasuo gets home and gauge how that interaction will go, whether it is something that zed had been planning for or not.
"asides for our... relationship, as you have said. i don't think i'm all that interesting. i found this place online because yasuo had been searching for roommates, and to split rent was exactly something i had needed at the time. i'm an architect, and i would like to think that i have made a name for myself, however that doesn't mean my work gets any easier." kaveh thinks of all the clients who try to micromanage his drafts when they have no concept of what makes a stable construct. he thinks of how many of his juniors praise his work and name, and he thinks of how it had caused him deep distress when all that fame could not soothe the torment his life had once been. the title of genius had been a shackle that bound him, and sometimes he still feels as if that were true. alas, he does not believe zed is asking for the thoughts that had once plagued him. "i like to dab my hands in other mediums as well. sketching is an artform that i love to practice, and i have pages filled with nothing but portraits of the people i have met."
kaveh pulls out his phone and swipes to a folder in his gallery that showcases images of his finished constructs. "here," kaveh says as he pushes his phone in front of zed, encouraging him to scroll through the collection. "these are some of the buildings i have designed. i'm not in charge of the actual construction. despite that, i'm still responsible for all of the aspects, so sometimes i have to oversee the construction and work with mechanics and engineers. i'm not sure if this is what you would call interesting, but this is what i do, and i rather enjoy the process of creating a design that resonates with my clients."
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rosedmuse · 6 months
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point(e)less; haruseonne 1000 days
happy 1000 haruseonne days!
i originally wanted an a10-related au but it didn't feel right for my 1000 days with haruto so instead of overcomplicating things, i went with the au that encapsulates the essence of who i am as a person. :3
so here's a very smol piece of the whole a3 ballet au gig i have going krazy in my head and in my heart!
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚
Port de bras. Pique, step, developpe. Glissade. Assemblé into a double cabriole; hold the arabesque. And then, chasse, pique turn once, saute de basque, and land in attitude derrièreー
"Stop. Do that one more time, from the top."
"Hah!? What did I even do wrong now?"
Another late night, overtime stay at the studio. It's way past rehearsal hours now, so no dancer's supposed to be within GOD-za vicinity anymore; save for some of the staff and guards. But then, audition day for the role of Prince Siegfried in the ballet classic 'Swan Lake' is closing in very quickly, and my desired partner and I still have quite a lot of our work cut out for us.
"You have to elongate your developpe en avant more, really hold your arabesque, and make sure you land facing the audience in your attitude." I try to keep my critiques as concise as possible.
"Oh. That so? But I thought I was already doing all those..." Haruto furrows his brows and frowns. It isn't an expression made out of frustration per se, but more so of confusion.
It hasn't been that long since Haruto started ballet; in fact, his promotion from first artist to soloist happened only earlier this season. And if he does get casted as Prince Siegfried this time around, who knows, maybe another sweet promotion to first soloist is what's in store for him next. But he's improved so much in such time; even if he often rides high on praise, he'll insist mentally to himself that he's got an even longer way to go. He never changed being a hardworker, and I like that about him.
Well, I like everything about him to begin with.
"Enjoy watching me struggle with my variation?" He asks, while he takes a short break to secure the laces on both of his worn out shoes more tightly.
"Hm, not always. But I do love seeing your progress critique after critique." I hand over a water bottle to him, forgetting not to sneak in another one of the many compliments I have about him that he deserves to hear every now and then.
"So you do enjoy seeing me struggle," he says, accepting the bottle and shaking his head in disbelief. "You can be a real meanie sometimes too, y'know? More than I ever was before, even."
A lighthearted laugh escapes my lips and reduces the built up tension caused by hours and hours of practice inside the quiet room. The playful banter exchanged amidst our exhaustion leaves a creative rhythm in the air that can only be heard and recognized by us, two. Our unwavering devotion and yearning for the stage binds not only our careers together, but also our very hearts, most importantly.
"Stay with me, Seonne," Haruto requests, ignoring completely the beads of sweat forming all over his forehead and dripping down either side of his temples. "Just a few more runs and we'll call it a day, I promise."
I abruptly rise, toes aching a fair but tolerable bit from moving around in pointe shoes for more than eight hours now, eager to convince him that that is no where near a good idea. Setting down the music player containing recordings of each of our solos and pas de deux, I walk over to his crouched figure and kneel before him.
"Haruto-san." My index finger's right in front of his nose. "I'm sure you mean, just one last run, yes?"
"But, Seonneー"
I place my raised index finger over his lips, cutting him and his almost unreasonable reasons short.
"We're both well aware that GOD-za, as a ballet company, is extremely driven by the results of our shows. Just what do you think will Reni-san say when he finds out we're overexerting ourselves with our own set of rehearsals every night? If we become physically incapable of performing our roles due to overfatigue, then we're doomed!"
Haruto brings his eyes down to his lap, where his hands rest, seemingly in contemplation. I didn't want to sound too harsh, but it's the truth. We can't keep doing this until audition day. He can't keep forcing himself to go beyond the limits of his body. I can't afford to risk seeing him seated among the audience members with a broken ankle while I'm stuck on stage.
Clearing his throat, he tries for a compromise. "What if Iー"
"We run the whole thing?" I firmly insist. "From Allegro, to the Adage, to your solo, then mine, and lastly the Coda."
A couple moments more of careful consideration, and my Prince Siegfried understudy finally gives in. "Fine. Let's settle with that for tonight."
"Yay!" I happily cheer, throwing myself at him and wrapping my arms around his neck is an act of pure instinct. The fact that we are still technically in 'public' flew way outside my scope of consciousness. "Oops, sorry. Got a little excited there..."
"It's alright," Haruto flashes that cheeky grin of his, before quickly leaving a small peck over my browline. "After all, I can't have my dearest first soloist and soon to be principal dancer ruining their Swan Lake debut now, can I?"
"Absolutely not!"
With a race to see who gets to press play on our music player first, Haruto and Iーno. Prince Siegfried and Odile take over the rest of the night. For just how point(e)less would it be if we hadn't gone all out like it truly is our last?
Dancing to the beat of Tchaikovsky's greatest masterpiece is one thing; but to be sharing this beautiful work of art together with the person who I consider is the other half of me, is everything I ever dreamed of.
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thanks for the encouragement! *sticker of paimon flexing her buff arms*
yeah i get the feeling, unfortunately, nowadays whoever tries to compliment me will get a "no" as a response, although i'm trying to get over this :') so i will help you throwing you in a sea of affection and compliments both for you and your writing 🤺 (in case it wasn't obvious, i'm the aggressively caring type)
ahh for xiao i can see so many places where he could get a tattoo, just like you, so yeah go grab a pen and make him your canvas! that's a beautiful love language imo, exchanging art by using your loved one's skin for it, it's just so cute and intimate ;^; like a little secret that is not so secret unless you gave the drawing/writing a special meaning only you two know :'3
that indigo menace better like japanese food cuz i only had it like thrice in my life and want more!... or i'll bite his neck tattoo as if i don't do that on a daily basis ahah
i agree tbh, when people are like "HOW COULD YOU" you know you did a good job in squeezing their hearts like a sponge <3 kazuha and xiao are like, trying to cope healthy maybe out of the love they had for their lover, childe is... well, childe, and aether reminds me of those "i will sacrifice the world for you" kind of guy (we love bloodthirsty lovers)
overall, as usual, you did such a great job TvT
— ❄️
i’m trying to get better at taking compliments, if only to make the people giving them feel less awkward, but i’m always scared of coming off conceited when reality couldn’t be further from that, so i always brush them off or just don’t react to it; aggressive caring types are so wholesome, i can be like that too though
i love that love language so much!! i need myself an irl xiao to give and receive it with!! i answered an ask about it before but i can’t dig it out now… tl;dr it combines physical touch with a creative outlet plus it’s so so intimate it makes my heart weak!! it’s why i had to include it in kazuha’s and i’m very sure we’ll see it again in other parts (i wonder why i have so many xiao centred thoughts around it, hmmmm)
i think you’re fine as long as it isn’t sweet!! actually, i think he could cook it for you!! do you want to hear about another prompt that makes my heart flutter? dinner dates but homemade <3 it’s such a classic but having an attractive guy someone cook dinner for you in a dimmed apartment and watching a movie afterwards while cuddling sound so so good to me (i’m projecting this onto this rn but it’s normally very childe-coded to me ㅠㅠ)
i’m always more nervous about posting angst than fluff bc i want to make it hit hard, so strong reactions are always welcome; bloodthirsty lovers are (in fiction) so attractive and what for? what? you burned the world down for me? aww babe, you didn’t have to!! >///<
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The Impact of Personal Blog
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An entirely new personal blog can be really thrilling.  A personal blog is one kind of blog that can be very rewarding to start.  You get decide on all the details of your site, from the fantastic content you will create to the personal touch you will put on your blog’s design.  With a blog like this, you may motivate or inform your target audience by sharing real-life experiences.
First of all, choosing to start your own personal blog has several benefits.  It is not just about keeping your wonderful memories on your social media accounts; you can also print them out and stick them in a photo album.  If you want, you can also take a few moments to think back on them.  (1) To motivate other people. Every action we take in life, in my opinion, is motivated by the desire to see if it encourages others to do the same things we would love to do. Not only can it benefit others in terms of inspiration, but as bloggers, it may also make us feel good. (2) Is to communicate our ideas and opinions. Knowing our ideas and opinions would be fantastic in addition to inspiring our reader. They need to realize how you will assist them in a particular topic or thing in addition to simply reading your articles. (3) Is to make money, of course. We lost our jobs due to the pandemic, so you must find a means to earn money on your own.  Being able to generate money online by having quality material or articles would help.
Additionally, it has a drawback. (1) Magazines are an antiquated and formal means to exchange thoughts and experiences. We are all aware of how much easier the internet makes our life, thus people frequently use it to communicate with their readers more effectively. I didn't mean to imply that magazines were gradually losing their appeal, but since everyone is familiar with the internet, they will just choose a simpler route. (2) If you are a novice in this field and run out of content ideas for posting. We can categorically state that in order to sustain your material as a blogger, you must have a creative mind. The more ideas you have, the better your material will be whenever you upload it according to your own timetable. (3) You feel lonely, but that's only because you work alone. You don't have a co-worker on your side, and you don't get any feedback on your work before posting it. We can develop wonderful relationships not just with them but also with your supervisor if we work with other people or with our co-workers.
Last but not least, when you begin to work in this field, be sure that the information you produce will make you feel alive.  Any criticism you may encounter is a compliment. Also, anything you do or share will always make you feel delighted and overwhelmed at the same time.
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whoacanada · 4 years
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Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU
Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.
A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.
“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”
It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.
“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”
“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”
As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.
“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”
Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”
“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“
Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”
“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”
“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”
“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”
Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.
“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”
“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”
Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.
Five Years Later
There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.
“Hey. Hi.”
Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”
The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.
“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”
“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.
“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”
“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”
“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”
Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.
“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”
“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”
“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”
“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”
“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”
Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.
______
True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.
That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.
(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)
Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.
________
After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.
The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.
“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”
Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.
“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.
“You know, I must have been mistaken.”
“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.
“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”
Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.
About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.
________
“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”
Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.
“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”
“No shit? Beer-league?”
“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”
“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”
“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”
“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”
“What could you do?”
“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”
“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.
“So.”
“Mmm?”
“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”
Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight. 
“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”
“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”
“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”
“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”
“Papa.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”
“Goodnight, Papa.”
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melodiesofblueroses · 3 years
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Hey, i saw your requests were open so :D
I would like some fluff with Lucifer, Levi, Beel, and Satan
With a flirty s/o that when they flirts back she is shutter mess and just "s/o.exe stopped working"
(and I'm so sorry about my english, it's not my first language and I still learning)
This was such a cute request omg I love it sm. I can feel myself getting flustered just thinking about it! Thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy it! Btw, your English is pretty good so don’t worry about it :)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
✦ Lucifer
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Lucifer certainly thought that you were a peculiar exchange student when you began flirting with him
i mean, here stood one of the most powerful and feared demons of the Devildom. hell, even his brothers feared him, and they were some of the most powerful too
you seemed so fearless and flirted with him so easily that Lucifer honestly couldn’t help but admire it
he’d usually roll his eyes or give a tiny smirk whenever you tried a pickup line on him or tried to flirt
(i could totally see him telling you which were good pickup lines and which ones needed more work)
he’s lived with his brother’s shenanigans for thousands, if not, millions of years by now
Lucifer can put up with a human’s flirtatious nature for a year by now
one day, however, Lucifer decided to flirt back just for the sake of it. you were always flirting with him, so why not try it back?
well, for someone so bold, Lucifer certainly wasn’t expecting you to become a nervous mess
you were immediately taken aback. Lucifer was so cold and stoic, you couldn’t imagine him even flirt back
and the fact that his voice just sounded so...hot? gosh, you could feel your heart begin to beat rapidly. was he always this attractive??
you could feel your face getting warmer by the second, your mind went blank, and any words you attempted to say either got stuck in your throat or ended up as an incoherent mess
y/n.exe has stopped working
to Lucifer, it was a bit, well, cute and satisfying. seeing you get all flustered over him was such a good feeling and boasted his already high ego
he uses this new information to his advantage, always flirting back whenever you did and smirking triumphantly afterwards
your shy and nervous reaction never got old. it was just too cute
»»————- ♡ ————-««
✰ Leviathan
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when Levi heard that they were expecting a human exchange student, he was expecting you to be somewhat troublesome
but not this troublesome
your compliments, teasing, and flirts would’ve damn near killed him the first time he heard them, although he never would get used to them despite having to live with him for a year
he never could hide the massive red blush or his shock whenever you tried to flirt with him
he didn’t think that he was the most attractive demon necessarily or even an interesting one
so why were you even flirting with him? even if it was just who you were, Levi would overanalyze every little move
but he did like the attention, so naturally, he would get jealous if you were to flirt with anyone else
it felt nice when he was the only one that received such attention from you
even if he had no idea how to flirt back or if he would even be able to, Levi would want to respond to your attempts
and when he finally gathered the courage to do so one day, he was a bit shocked yet smug at your reaction
you were exactly like him after all! it certainly did make him feel a bit better about himself, though it also flustered him at the same time
just how could a human look so cute??
your flustered face would become an immortalized memory for him, one that he was quite fond of
even after knowing how you’d react to such responses, Levi wouldn’t really respond on most days since he wouldn’t know how to until a few hours later (he always went blank immediately after you attempted to flirt with him)
on the off chance that he would flirt back, however, Levi would get a little ego boost and just enjoy the moment
guess you weren’t such a strong human after all
»»————- ♡ ————-««
✣ Satan
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at first, Satan is taken aback from your flirtatious nature, but that’s only because it’s been quite a while since someone approached him in such a way
it amuses him, so he flirts back from the get go, which made him learn of the fact that you easily get embarrassed if someone does it back
it became even more amusing for him
Satan just found it so fascinating that a human who so easily threw out compliments and flirts couldn’t handle someone else flirting back
he already found you to be cute since you were a small human amongst many demons, but this just added to your cuteness
Satan couldn’t help but tease you for it
get prepared to endure teasing for the next year
every time you attempted to flirt with him, Satan would always have a comeback, and a lovely one at that
seriously, how were they even better than your attempts
being at the receiving end of flirty comments was so much more different. i mean, Satan was just so well-spoken and attractive that you couldn’t help but blank out when he responded back
was this demon that you were crushing on really responding to your attempts? this surely wasn’t a dream, right?
he’d probably even start the flirting at times, which would only leave you both speechless and flustered which was exactly what Satan was aiming for
“hey y/n. would you care to hear my latest pickup line? i think it could be improved but i’d like a second opinion.”
cue the stutters and rosy cheeks which Satan grew to love oh so much
he’d always chuckle at your reaction which would only annoy you even more
gosh, he was such a tease
»»————- ♡ ————-««
✯ Beelzebub
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he would probably be kinda confused at first or just brush it off
you were human after all, so of course Beel wouldn’t really know of any human customs (at least he assumed it was one)
however, i do think that he’d find it a bit fun
(he loved all of your creative and new compliments, they were such a joy to listen to)
so he’d occasionally play along and flirt back
when he finds out that you get so embarrassed by it, Beel would laugh and find it adorable
like Satan, he’d find it fascinating that you could so easily dish out flirts but couldn’t take them
he couldn’t recall the last time he’s seen someone so flustered and speechless
even though Beel finds it adorable, i can see him getting a bit worried that you hate it so he’ll most likely stop flirting back
i mean, just seeing you so speechless and stuttering whenever you tried to respond made him extremely worried that he said something wrong
was his flirting inappropriate? did you perhaps not like it?
he didn’t want to do anything that you were uncomfortable with, so he’d stop responding with flirts altogether
although he would stop flirting back, Beel would still respond back to your flirts by smiling or chuckling at one that he found to be good
he didn’t want you to think that he was ignoring you (i swear he’s paying attention he’s just busy trying to satisfy his endless hunger)
honestly, that just made you even more flustered, especially the sight of his cute smile that you’d somehow fallen for
how did he look so good with a smile?? why was the sight of him smiling riling you up??
gahh, Beel was just too cute for his own good
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Text
Recess sobs and bedtime resolutions
Pairing: fem!Reader x Spencer
Request: Ok so the reader is a psychologist and is married to spencer and they have a 5 year old daughter who gets in trouble for punching a kid because they picked on her because they didn't beleive her dad was in the fbi If that makes sense any who if you don't write this i get it I just want to see speancers reaction
Trigger warnings: bullying, physical violence. (let me know if i forgot something)
Category: fluff, slight angst.
A/N: thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it. The daughter sounds a bit older than 5, in my head she’s in the early stages of elementary school. Let me know what you think about it! I’d be glad to receive some feedback. (Btw I hurt my own feelings writing this, you can’t even imagine...)
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You were in your office, a typical Tuesday afternoon until you heard your office phone ring once more. You held up your finger to make your client pause what they were saying, you picked up the phone only to hang up.
“I apologise for the inconvenience. Now where were we ?” you said trying to get your client comfortable again despite the ringing. As she was about to speak up again, your cellphone rang, Spencer’s name lit up your screen and that’s when you were starting to get concerned.
“I’m so sorry I have to get that.” You said exiting the office to take the call. You were happy to hear your significant other’s voice nonetheless you knew he wouldn’t normally call you during working hours.
“Hi darling, is everything okay ?”
“No, not really. The school called, there’s an emergency.” he responded wrapping his scarf around his neck as he was making his way to the elevator.
“What happened ?” you asked getting more and more worried.
“She punched a classmate in the face. Can you believe it ?!” he pressed the button 0 waving goodbye to his coworkers.
“What ? Our daughter? Jane ? Are you sure it’s not her evil twin ?”
“Eviler twin you mean ? No offense, Y/n, but if she had one, I’m pretty sure you would remember…”
“Alright, I’ll tell my secretary to cancel all my appointments for the day. I’ll meet you there.”
“Love you, bye.”
“Love you too.” You answered before hanging up. You made it a little bit of a rule to yourself to never say ‘goodbye’ to him because you thought that if you did it may increase the chances of you never seeing him again. You knew it was a bit silly but with all those times he was close to death, you’d believe in any superstition if that meant he would get home safe.
After taking care of your client and letting your secretary handle the rest, you hurried out of your office to drive to your daughter’s elementary school.
You pushed the interphone button, once you were allowed entrance you walked to the principal’s office. You softly knocked, when the door opened it showed Spencer sitting in a chair right across the desk, next to it was an empty chair meant for you.
“I’m sorry, I came as I soon as I could.” you apologized.
“Well, I assume you’re Jane’s mother. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Principal Walker.” he greeted shaking your hand. As you sat down, Spencer gave you his best polite white smile.
“Do you know what you’re here for ?” he inquired.
“You said our daughter was involved in a conflict with a student...” you answered.
“Your daughter punched a student in the face.” He said bluntly.
“Right…”
“Are you sure it’s Jane ?” Spencer asked still struggling to believe it.
“Wait until you see her knuckles...”
Spencer put his face in his hands in defeat, you rubbed his shoulder to bring him comfort.
“What happened exactly ?” you asked.
“Well, it was during the 10AM break. Jane went out to play with her classmates when a boy started arguing with her. Next thing we hear is a scream, the boy is on the floor crying.”
You and Spencer both looked at each other with an immense look of stupor.
“The boy, did he bully her ?” Spencer asked trying to find some innocence in the sweet child of his.
“Not that we know of.” answered the principal.
“Is he okay though ?” you questioned.
“Yes, just a minor injury. He went back home.”
You nodded, “So what happens next ?”
“We are giving her a warning but the next time something like this happens there will be harsher consequences than a simple punishment. Understood ?”
“Yes. we understand. Thank you for your time, sir.” you said as you rose up from your chair. Spencer and you both exited the room finding your daughter in the waiting lounge looking guilty as ever. You saw Spencer’s face look puzzled and hostile. To torture your daughter with even more guilt you told her to ride back home with her dad which she did not love but couldn’t protest.
Spencer hardly spoke to Jane the entire drive. He was dry, so much it looked like he ignored her. Jane was desperate to get him to talk to her.
“Please, dad. Don’t be mad at me!” she exclaimed.
“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.” those words he pronounced cut like a knife. You knew that by seeing her dad’s reaction she would become aware of the gravity of her actions. And he actually wasn’t mad, at least not until he saw her pouting face. He loved her too much to be angry.
“Okay but can you just talk to me!” she whined.
“Oh we will, back home with your mom.”
That car ride lasted longer for Jane than usual. No music, no anecdotes nor laughs, just plain silence and introspection while gazing at the landscape.
Your house was in the suburbs near a forest, Spencer had all sorts of scientific arguments as to why living near nature was beneficial but you just loved the paysage before your eyes when taking your morning coffee. The location was perfect; in nature which means less pollution, noise and lower criminal rates yet a short car ride from the city which was full of cultural spots and with high quality education.
Jane tried to run up the stairs in hope to avoid her parents’ correction but was interrupted by your strict toned voice; “Not so fast, young lady.”
She shut her eyes stopping dead in her tracks, she lifted her stuffed animal and said to it “It was nice knowing you, fluffy.” She then turned around and sat on the couch.
Spencer was pacing around, “Why did you do it ?” He asked his daughter his voice slightly higher than before. She started melting in tears which truly pained him. You walked up to her, as you were sat on the couch next to her you started stroking her arm and drying her tears.
“It’s okay. We’re just trying to understand why you did that. There’s no way you would’ve done it without a reason.” you told her.
“Jeremy kept making fun of me…” she struggled to get out whimpering.
“How long has he been making fun of you ?” Spencer asked.
“Since Valentine’s day when everyone was exchanging cards but my box was empty.” You glanced at Spencer in shock of how long you hadn’t known your daughter was getting bullied, silently suffering.
“Honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through this.” you reassured her kissing her cheek and running your hands through her hair. “But what happened exactly that made you punch him ?”
“He made fun of dad, he wouldn’t believe he was in the FBI.” She answered tilting her head up. “I asked him to stop but he wouldn’t so I defended myself.” she affirmed seeming not so guilty anymore. You unwrapped your arms from her giving her a frown.
“That’s not how you deal with problems.” Spencer said sitting on the low table across the couch.
“Yeah, you could’ve talked to us first but you didn’t even try. You know you can tell us everything ?” You backed him up.
“I know but I thought I could deal with this problem on my own. You guys always seem so good at it. And I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
You glanced at Spencer both slightly smiling at each other.
“If there’s one thing I learned from my job at the FBI is that violence is never the answer. It’s only justifiable if it’s legitimate defence; when you life is in danger.”
“Dad, do you still love me ?” she asked watching her feet swinging on the edge of the couch.
“Of course, I love you. I always will, no matter what.” he responded taking hold of her hand. “Okay?” She nodded. She didn’t seem to understand that punching someone is wrong. You needed to have a talk with Spencer;
“Now go to your room and do your homework, we’ll talk punishment tomorrow morning.” You said.
“But-“ she protested.
“No buts, go to your room.” You ordered.
You joined Spencer on the couch, he looked completely defeated. “Hey, are you alright ?” You asked him while taking a seat next to him. “Yes.” He answered a bit too quickly. “I mean…No…Not really.” You knew exactly why he was feeling like this. “It’s not your fault, Spence.” you reassured him playing with his hair.
“This whole time…And I didn’t know she was struggling. What kind of father am I ?”
“I come home every night and I didn’t know about this. It’s not because of your job, it’s not because of us. I’m blaming the school, here. They’re the ones who are supposed to prevent bullying from happening.”
He rummaged his hair with his hands whilst his elbows rested on his knees.
“Plus it’s a good sign, she doesn’t get along with kids her age…” you said slightly smirking.
“How?!” Spencer asks slightly irritated due to his public middle school flashbacks.
“It’s a sign of high intellectual potential. Her emotional age is too advanced for kids her age to understand, they tend to be too insensitive for her. She believes animals and inanimate objects have emotions and that they are intelligent. She talks to her stuffed animal like it’s a pet. She took the pepperonis out of her pizza! Also she has an enormous amount of creativity and she’s highly sensitive to her surroundings. Have you seen how she profiled your every move and suddenly her emotions followed ? Just like you she’s protective of the ones she loves. She only punched that kid because he wasn’t exactly talking highly of you…”
“So you’re saying…”
“Our daughter could be a genius.”
“As mother as daughter.” he complimented with a smirk.
“Oh come on we know who’s the genius here!” you said slapping his shoulder playfully.
You both chuckled. You kept talking for at least half an hour to come up with a plan you both agreed to. It’s not good for a child to watch their parents disagree.
~slight time lapse~
An hour after dinner, you went up to your daughter’s bedroom as it was her bedtime. You leaned on the door frame admiring Spencer, sat next to Jane on her bed, reading a story to her about conflict to teach her what to do in the type of situations she got in. He learned that from you since you were a psychologist. He admired how resourceful and clever you were. He couldn’t be more proud to have you as his significant other and the mother of his child. Your foot made a cracking noise on the hard wood floor which caught Jane attention.
“Mommy! Come!” she exclaimed shaking her little hands.
“What’s up?” you ask sitting next to the bed.
“Me and dad were reading this book you got me and now i understand. I’m sorry for not coming to you first. I just didn’t like what they said about dad.”
“Honey, it doesn’t matter what people think of you. Seeking validation from people can be so unhealthy. If you keep bottling up your emotions you���re going to explode like a bomb and that’s no good.”
“Can you forgive me, mommy ?”
“Of course. You’re still growing, as long as you learn from your mistakes I’m confident you’re going to be alright.” You answered squeezing her hand. Spencer watched in awe, it reminded him how in love with you he is.
“Yes, please don’t ever do that again!” he said a bit too quickly with a high pitched voice that made you all burst in laughter.
“Alright, you should get some sleep.” you told her giving her a kiss on the cheek and tucking her in; “Good night, my love.”
Spencer kissed her temple and set aside the little book he was reading to her wishing her good night as well. You walked out switching the lights off. As you walked down the stairs you asked Spencer to stop in his tracks pointing your finger up; Jane was talking to her stuffed animal. You both had to muffle your laughs. The future looked bright.
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Text
Creative planning
Word count: 2144     
Genre: I think a bit of angst mixed with fluff???
Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader 
Warnings: Swearing but not much and in a friendly way (let me know if I need to add more)
Request: Can u do natasha x reader where natasha fall in love with the reader because they always have stupid atypical plans that always work. And at first none of the avengers believer that the plan will work but it actually work. That’s it!
Summary: Reader always has creative plans for missions that always work and Nat seems like she doesn’t like them except she actually does and is just bad at feelings.
A/n: So this was requested by @fayhar so I hope you like it but if I’m honest I didn’t follow the request exactly so I’m sorry about that, but I hope you like it anyways. Also sorry this is a few days later than I said but I procrastinated but I’m writing a lot now so hopefully all other requests will be out soon.
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You glance around at the rest of the team, biting your lip when all you can see is frustrated faces. It’s your first time making a big suggestion and it is not going over nearly as well as you had hoped. You thought your plan was pretty solid, albeit weird, but the team doesn’t seem to agree. 
“We need a real plan, not the plot of some animated action movie meant for kids.” Tony says, his annoyance coming through with his voice. 
Clint shoots Tony a look and softly says, “Y/n, I know you’re trying to help but Tony is right, this doesn’t seem realistic.”
“I agree,” Natasha interjects, “anyone have any more viable plans?” The room is silent after that and you can tell everyone is thinking hard. You’re trying to help as well but your mind is consumed with doubt. Although it wasn’t the most conventional plan, you really thought it could work but they thought it childish. Clint was the nicest to you about it but that’s only because he saw you as a kid he had to protect. You loved being a part of the team but sometimes it was hard to prove yourself when you were both the youngest and newest avenger. You rack your brains trying to come up with a new plan but your mind keeps getting stuck on what you already came up with. It was different from what the team normally did for sure, but you just knew it could work. 
“I know you shot it down already but please consider what I’ve suggested,” you speak up, “it’s different but I think it will work. Besides it’s not like anyone else has any great ideas.” 
While they don’t seem to accept your plan right away this time they seem to give a little more thought. Wanda whispers something to Steve and you can see Natasha and Clint exchange looks. 
Finally Steve speaks up. “Y/n is right, maybe not about the plan but we don’t have any other ideas. I think this is our best change against Hydra for now.” 
“Hydra is a formidable enemy whose goal is to control the world and you expect us to follow a plan that is completely ridiculous.” Natasha argues harshly. You struggle not to let any emotion show because you knew you had to appear strong but what Natasha thinks means a lot to you, so it hurt she had absolutely no confidence in your plan. You have always admired her a lot and if you were to be truthful you’ve always had a little bit of a crush on her.
“This plan does seem a little out there,” Wanda interjects, “but maybe that’s what we need for this mission, Hydra won’t be able to predict it.” 
“Ok,” Tony agrees, “what the hell, let's do it.” 
Fifteen exhausting hours later and you were all on a jet heading back to the compound. Even though it had been one of the hardest and most tiring missions you had been on to date you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were the one that helped the team out. 
“Good job Y/n!” Steve praises seeing your grin so you smile back even harder and go to respond when you hear a scoff from the other side of the jet. Natasha is sitting there and although her face betrays nothing, everyone who heard knows it’s her. You don’t know why she hates your plan even though it worked but although it bothers you, you try to brush it off, as Steve squeezes your shoulder in silent support. Even when Natasha exits the jet and heads straight to her room without a word to anybody you manage to keep a smile while talking with a few of the other avengers before you get too exhausted and decide to call it a night. 
As you lie in your bed after you showered and were drifting off you think about the day. You understood the lack of confidence in your crazy plan at first but you finally feel like you proved yourself and showed why you were asked to join the avengers. You also question Natasha’s dismissal of your success but you can never tell what she’s thinking so you brush that aside and fall into a peaceful sleep, optimistic about what is to come. 
---
“Hey Y/n can you look over the plans for the next raid?” Tony asks, shoving some papers in your hands as you walk past him in the hall. 
“Of course!” You respond cheerfully, taking the papers and continuing to make your way into the common room. It had been around ten months since you had first helped create a plan and ever since then the other had been turning to you for help with stuff like this and you became known for coming up with the craziest ideas that always ended up working. 
When you got to the common room you plopped yourself on the couch and started brainstorming beside the only other occupant of the room, Natasha. Out of all the avengers you were still slightly wary of her. You admired her a lot (not to mention kinda wanted to kiss her) but although she didn’t seem to hate your plans as much as she first did she didn’t seem to like them either. You did your best to impress her especially when she would help train you but sometimes it got discouraging because she never seemed to care that much. She was also the only avenger you didn’t consider yourself friends with, which is why you were fairly surprised when she spoke up. 
“What are you working on?”
“I’m just reviewing the mission plans for our raid of the Hydra base in a few days, Tony did a pretty good job though, so I won’t change much.” You respond honestly. 
“None of your weird ideas?” She asks. 
“Probably not, don’t worry,” you say laughing slightly although you don’t feel like it, “I’m just going to see if Steve has any ideas, see you later.” You leave the room in a bit of a rush, making sure you have all the plans. Natasha watches you go with a frown. She can tell she offended you when she asked that but she was just meaning to tease because although she was skeptical at first, she now really loves your plans. 
While she unhappily stares into the hallway you left through, she feels a tap on her shoulder and turns around to see Clint hanging upside down from the vent. 
“What’s wrong Nat?” He asks. 
“Y/n thinks I hate her. Or at least that I think she’s stupid.”
Clint laughs. “Once she gets to know you I’m sure that will change. Remember how long it took for the others to warm up to you?”
“But I like her and I want her to like me now!” Natasha replies in a tone that has a small whine to it. 
“So you like her, no biggie,” Clint says, “eventually you’ll become friends. WAIT-do you mean you like her, like you want to date her?” Natasha doesn’t respond and instead just nods, looking away from Clint. 
“You know it may seem complicated but just be nice to her and give her compliments out loud instead of in your head.” Clint advises.
“You know I think that’s the only helpful thing you’ve ever told me,” Natasha jokes, wanting to change the topic, “when did you get so good at this?”
“Well I do have a wife after all,” Clint answers, “maybe you should trust me on this.”
The past month has been confusing to say the least. You brush your hair in the mirror, wanting to look presentable for when you were having dinner with Natasha later because she randomly asked you to. It isn’t a date or anything, in fact you don’t know why you’re doing this because all she said is that she wanted to talk to you, but the idea of eating dinner along with her makes you nervous. This was the first time the two of you were going to do something without any of the others. At first she didn’t seem to like you at all but recently you noticed a huge change in the way Natasha was acting towards you. She seemed to actively seek you out to spend time together and started complimenting you more, especially on your ideas relating to avengers missions. You take a glance at your watch and decide to head down to the kitchen to meet up with Nat. The whole way down you can feel your entire body almost shaking with nerves but you push it aside. 
“Hey Y/n,” Natasha says softly upon your entry, “I made us some pasta, I hope you don’t mind.” 
“I’ll never turn down pasta.” You respond while smiling and grabbing a plate. 
“Great,” she says, looking a little relieved, “Are you good to just eat at the counter?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I, I’m not the queen.” You answer her, laughing slightly. She mumbles something under her breath but you can’t hear it properly. 
“What was that Tasha?” You ask her. 
“Nothing.” You look down at your food and both of you lapse into silence. Neither of you speak for what feels like an hour but was probably closer to ten minutes before you start to get a little annoyed. 
“Are you going to speak?” She stares at you and doesn’t answer. “Well are you? Because you said you wanted to talk to me but now that I’m here you don’t say anything. Not to mention I can’t even tell if you like me or not.” She seems surprised by your outburst but you can’t find it within yourself to care. It was all true you had no clue what she thought about you with her acting cold towards, then suddenly switching to being nice and as much as you liked her you would much rather just know what she thought than be constantly confused. 
“I do like you.” She says after a few moments of very awkward silence. “I just don’t know how to talk to you properly.”
“You didn’t know how to talk to me???” You ask, completely shocked. 
“Yes,” she replies honestly, “at first I just didn’t talk to you because I didn’t like you-”
“Ouch.” You interrupt and she rolls her eyes at you. 
“Anyways as I was saying,” she takes a pause to playfully glare at you, “the reason why I didn’t like you was because unlike everybody else you were unpredictable and I don’t like not being in control. You are just so different from people I’m used to-I mean this in a good way, like how you always have super creative plans.”
“Oh wow that’s not what I was expecting at all,” you tell her, “I just thought you hated me.” She nods looking remorseful. 
“Sorry, at the very start I may have but honestly that’s the last impression I wanted you to have of me. If you can’t tell recently I’ve been trying harder to be more open.”
“I have noticed actually and although I was a bit confused by the sudden change it was nice.” Natasha smiles at that and sits up a little taller before shrinking back down and biting her lip.
“For the sake of honesty, there was another reason I didn’t like you much,” she pauses to take a deep breath, “you made me feel things, things I can usually control.” You can’t believe what you are hearing right now and think you must be dreaming because unless you are interpreting things very wrongly it sounds like Natasha is confessing feelings for you. 
“Tasha,” you say slowly, “you have feelings for me?” She nods and you can’t even begin to process it. You must have been silent for too long because she stands up and starts to move away. 
“I’m sorry Y/n, we can drop it if you want just please say something.” 
“No, we are not dropping this,” you say seriously, watching Natasha’s face drop as you inwardly smirk, “at least not until you take me on a date first.” 
“You’re an asshole.” Natasha deadpans before coming over to hug you. “I will definitely take you on many dates.” 
She’s true to her word and two days later you find yourselves cuddled in your bed after having dinner at a restaurant. She’s spooning you, pressed up against your back and you can tell by her breathing that she’s almost asleep. 
“So you like my plans?” You ask cheekily, remembering your conversation from last night. 
“I love your plans,” She responds before planting a kiss to the top of your head that nearly makes your heart melt of happiness, “even if you are an asshole sometimes.”
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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years
Text
Taking Care of Business (Chapter Eleven)
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Summary: (Y/N), Mando and the child arrive on Nevarro and meet with the town’s magistrate and marshal, and (Y/N)’s time on the planet brings back difficult memories of the Rebellion.
Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings/Disclaimers: Brief description of a panic attack
A/N: I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Eleven The Siege (Previous Chapter)
“Okay, now ease down on the lever…”
While Mando piloted the Razor Crest through the clouds of Nevarro, he glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N) and heaved one of his trademark sighs of exasperation. “I thought I hired a partner, not a piloting instructor.”
“I’m sorry but out of the two of us, which one crashed a ship onto an inhospitable ice planet and then straight into a harbor?” (Y/N) asked, sarcasm lacing her words; the Mandalorian didn’t say anything as he turned back around and her smile only widened. “You know, it’s funny how I can’t see your eyes and yet I always know when you’re rolling them at me.” She looked down at the child in her lap, who was busy playing with his silver orb. “Mando’s pretty silly, isn’t he, little guy?”
The child squealed in delight when she wriggled her fingers at his sides and she laughed; she’d never been very good with children but the longer she’d been near the small green child, the more comfortable she’d become with him. To her surprise, the feeling seemed to be mutual; although he still preferred to be held by Mando, there were times when he’d practically demand her attention no matter what she was already doing. It was a little odd at first, to have another being want her around so much, but she’d grown used to it.
Despite her earlier teasing, Mando managed to land the ship as smoothly as he could at the outskirts of the small town; he took the child from her and waited for her to finish strapping her blaster to her waist before lowering the back ramp. It succeeded in lowering itself halfway before seizing up and after exchanging identical sighs of defeat, they both walked out onto the ramp and jumped the short way down to the ground.
A man and a woman, who (Y/N) immediately recognized as Greef Karga and Cara Dune, stood by and watched as they approached them. Karga was the first to speak, exclaiming, “Looks like someone could use some repairs!”
Mando firmly shook his hand. “How’s my credit around here?”
“I think something can be arranged. Isn’t that right, Marshal?”
Cara smiled beside him, reaching forward to affectionately stroke the child’s large ear. “I’m sure we can work something out.” When she straightened, (Y/N) caught sight of the tattooed stripes on her right bicep and instantly recognized them as the marks of a Rebel drop soldier; before she could say or do anything, though, she met Cara’s gaze and finally noticed the small Rebel Alliance tear tattooed at the corner of her eye. (Y/N)’s blood turned to ice at the sight; she’s from Alderran, she thought with dread, hoping with all her might that the marshal couldn’t detect her hint of a Mid-Rim accent and realize she was Naboo. Within the Rebel Alliance, those from Naboo were treated with resentment by the survivors of Alderran, as they blamed the planet for the rise of the Empire, and (Y/N) quickly learned to hide her planet of origin from other Rebellion smugglers. Thankfully, though, Cara only looked at her with a curious gleam in her eye. “I see you brought a friend, Mando. Aren’t you gonna introduce us?”
“This is (Y/N), my newest crew member; I brought her on to help with my quest. (Y/N), this is Cara Dune.”
“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cara.” With a nervous smile, (Y/N) shook the marshal’s outstretched hand. “Mando’s told me a little about you.”
“All good things?”
“Oh, I’m sure; Mando’s our pal, after all!” Karga clasped her hand between his and grinned. “Greef Karga. It’s an honor to welcome any friend of Mando’s to Nevarro, but especially one as charming as you.”
While (Y/N) raised a brow at his compliment, Mando rested his free hand on his hip and tilted his helmet. “The ship, Karga?”
“I’ll get my best people on it.” Karga turned to a couple of mechanics working nearby. “Hey, fellas, let’s fix this man’s ship! I want it good as new!” In the crook of Mando’s arm, the child cooed and Karga’s grin widened. “And you. Come here, little one!” Karga lifted the child up and laughed. “Have Mando and (Y/N) been taking good care of you, huh?” The magistrate looked up from the child and shot them both a stern look. “Have you two been taking good care of him?” Hearing the child coo again, Karga chuckled. “Yeah? Yeah, he said ‘yeah!’”
Still talking to the child nestled in his arms, Karga turned and began walking back to the town; the three of them followed, (Y/N) with carefully concealed reluctance. Just as she was about to tell Mando she’d rather stay with the ship and oversee its repairs, Cara glanced over at them with narrowed eyes. “So, how long have you two been working together?”
“A couple of months. We met when she hired me to help her with a job and once I saw her piloting abilities, I asked her to join my crew.” Mando didn’t elaborate further and (Y/N)’s shoulders nearly sagged in relief; she suspected that her partner had picked up on her discomfort but she wasn’t positive until he rested a comforting hand on her lower back as they made their way through a bustling market. “Looks like you two’ve been busy.”
“I myself have been steeped in clerical work,” Karga called out over his shoulder. “Marshal Dune here is to be thanked for cleaning up the town.”
Cara merely shrugged, turning her attention back to Mando. “Your ship’s not lookin’ too good.”
“We had a run-in with the New Republic.”
(Y/N) bit back a smile at her partner’s purposefully vague explanation and listened as Karga muttered, “They should leave the Outer Rim alone. If the Empire couldn’t settle it, what makes them think they can?” They stopped in front of a large building and he reached for the door’s control panel. “Here we are.”
While Karga was busy pressing buttons, Mando tilted his helmet and let out a contemplative hum. “I’m surprised to see this place still standing.”
“Just wait ‘til you see inside.” The marshal smiled before turning and following Karga into the building.
(Y/N) and Mando trailed behind, standing beside the two and taking in the scene before them; they were inside of a school room, and she’d visited enough cantinas in her lifetime to realize what the building had formerly housed. Rows of children seated at desks were listening with rapt attention as a protocol droid pointed to a star chart and lectured about the galaxy, and (Y/N)’s heart warmed at the sight.
“A school?” Mando asked, and judging by the tone of his voice, he was also endeared by the peaceful sight.
Cara grinned and nodded as they looked on. “Things have changed a lot around here.”
“We’ll leave the little one here so we can talk business.”
Her brow furrowing in concern, (Y/N) held up a hand to stop the magistrate from leaving. “Wait…”
“Wherever we go, he goes.” Mando added, worry lacing his words as he glanced down at the wide-eyed child in Karga’s arm.
“Mando, (Y/N), please. Where we’re going, you don’t wanna take a child. Trust me.”
Karga glanced between them before turning and moving to place the child at one of the empty desks near the front, and (Y/N) nervously bit her lip as Cara quietly reassured them both; the magistrate walked back to where all three of them stood and gestured for them to follow him back out to the street. Mando hesitated, still looking over at the child, and (Y/N) grabbed his gloved hand to urge him along with her; he eventually relented, walking by her side out of the school room as she reluctantly released his hand.
They followed Karga and Cara through the busy streets to an administrative building; before (Y/N) could enter behind the two men, Cara’s hand shot out and grabbed her elbow to halt her. “I haven’t done anythin’ to offend you, (Y/N), have I? I only ask ‘cause you seem a little skittish here.”
Quickly shaking her head, (Y/N) met the marshal’s concerned gaze with an apologetic smile. “No, no, of course not! It’s just that…well, I saw your stripes and…I’m a veteran, too, I was a Captain in the Alliance Fleet,” She blurted out, instantly regretting her words as she hurriedly continued. “I’m just not used to seeing other veterans, that’s all.” Realization dawned on Cara’s face and she nodded in understanding, walking alongside (Y/N) as they entered the administrative building together.
“…Mythrol here’s taken care of my books since he was a pollywog. But then he disappeared one day after a bit of ‘creative accounting.’”
(Y/N) looked on as a nervous Mythrol seated at a desk tried and failed to smile. “Magistrate Karga was generous enough to let me work off my debt. Thank you, by the way.”
“Three hundred and fifty years but who’s counting?” Karga muttered darkly, shooting the Mythrol a hard look.
“Well, if he runs off on you again, let me know.” The Mandalorian beside her remarked, and she arched a curious brow; the Mythrol must’ve been one of his last bounties before retiring from the Guild, she thought to herself, no wonder the guy looks so nervous. Not that (Y/N) could blame him, of course. From the stories Mando told about his old bounty hunting days, she thanked the Maker that no one had ever hired him to bring her in; she knew she’d never stand a chance against such a formidable hunter.
The Mythrol chuckled nervously. “Let me assure you, I do not wanna spend any more time in carbonite! Still can’t see outta my left eye…”
“Can we talk business?” Cara interrupted as she made her way over to another desk, a grim expression on her face.
Mando glanced over at (Y/N) before curtly replying, “We’re only here for repairs.”
“Which will take a while, which means you two’ll have free time on your hands, right?” Karga exchanged a look with Cara before letting out a small sigh. “And we could really use some help.”
“Help how?” (Y/N) asked, already on-edge by the magistrate’s cryptic words.
Cara leaned forward and switched on a hologram projector resting on the desk. “This is Nevarro.” She pointed to a green-hued section of the map. “We’re here. This entire area’s a green zone, completely safe. But over on this side is the problem.” After tapping the map, they watched as she zoomed in on a red-hued area not far from where they were located.
“It’s an old Imperial base.”
“It’s where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon,” Cara elaborated and Mando tensed up at the mention of Gideon’s name; (Y/N) knew a little of Mando’s adventures on Nevarro, and she also knew why her partner was so wary of the dead Imperial officer. “This base has been here since the Imperial expansion. It’s got a skeleton crew but for some reason, it hasn’t been abandoned.”
Karga nodded. “There’s a lot of heavy weaponry in that place the black market would love to dismantle and get their hands on.”
“And you wanna mop up the last of the Imperial forces before they do.”
“Mando, I just want them off my planet,” The magistrate heaved a sigh and looked over at the hologram. “If we could take out that one last base, Nevarro would be completely safe. We could be a trade anchor for the entire sector.”
“And the planet would finally be free.”
The marshal’s compelling words stirred something within (Y/N), and she immediately thought of the school room that they’d just visited. Those children have a chance to grow up on a planet free of any Imperial influence, she thought to herself, and they could be the first generation to have the childhood that none of us got but had always dreamed of. She looked over at Mando and into the visor of his helmet, giving him a barely-discernable nod.
After a moment, Mando turned back to Karga and Cara. “What are we looking at?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The journey across the lava flats of Nevarro was quick, much to (Y/N)’s relief; the Mythrol’s land speeder was small, so she sat sandwiched in between Mando and Karga in the backseat. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve been nervously excited to be seated so close to the Mandalorian, but all she could really think of was how uncomfortable it was to be squished into the backseat of a speeder beside a towering man wearing full beskar armor. Definitely not as comfortable as when you sat in his lap on Trask, she thought to herself, biting her lip as she remembered how his strong arms had wrapped so protectively around her body and how touchingly concerned his voice had been when he spoke. Giving her head a small shake, she returned her attention to her companions’ planning.
“…The whole base is powered by a reactor.”
Cara nodded from her spot in the passenger seat. “We sneak in, overload the reactor and get the hell out of there.”
“Let’s be fast, and keep the speeder running.”
(Y/N) bit her lip, silently agreeing with her partner as they turned a corner and approached the Imperial base. Once they parked the speeder, she clambered out and drew her blaster the moment her feet touched the hardened lava; she followed the others to an elevator door nestled into the rocky wall, her blaster raised as Mando examined its control panel.
After a moment, he stepped back with a frustrated sigh. “These controls are useless; they’re melted.”
The others began complaining about the poor Imperial craftsmanship, but (Y/N) was only half-listening. Her eyes were drawn up to the landing pad that was jutting out at the top of the cliff, and it might’ve been her imagination but she could’ve sworn she saw movement. Sensing that Mando had moved to stand beside her, she mumbled, “I’m getting the feeling that there’s more than a skeleton crew up there.”
“Yeah, me too; let’s check it out.” Tearing her eyes away from the landing pad, (Y/N) glanced over at Mando in time to see him holster his blaster and awkwardly raise his arm. “Um, may I?”
Her brow rose in surprise and she couldn’t help but smile. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve asked permission. Who says you can’t teach an ex-bounty hunter some manners?”
Mando tilted his helmet as he looked down at her. “Watch it, alor’ad, I could always drop you.” But as he spoke, his arm wound securely around her waist and he held her against his side while looking over at the others. “Hold tight.” Activating his jetpack, they shot up into the air and landed on the top of the cliff.
“Blast ‘em!”
(Y/N) pulled herself away from Mando and ducked down in time to avoid a blaster bolt, quickly drawing her own weapon and shooting the Stormtrooper that had missed her; another Stormtrooper jumped out from behind a pile of machinery and she shot him before he could aim his blaster. She glanced over in time to see Mando shoot one before kicking another off the landing pad and turning to look at her, and she could tell by his body language that he was just as surprised as she was. “I knew something was wrong about all this. Why would an empty base have armed Imps stationed at it?”
“I don’t know.” The doors of the elevator opened to reveal the others, their weapons drawn as they glanced down at the dead Stormtroopers. “Empty base, huh?”
Cara moved to peer over the edge of the landing pad while Karga stood beside the two of them. “The reactor should be set in the heat shaft. If we drain the cooling lines, this whole base will go up in a matter of minutes.”
Frowning, (Y/N) opened her mouth to voice her concern but was interrupted by the Mythrol, who excitedly called out, “Look, it’s a mint Trexler Marauder! You know how much we can get a lot for this on the black market?”
“And it’s gonna get vaporized like the rest of this base.” Mando snapped before gesturing towards the base’s entrance. “Now, let’s go.”
(Y/N) crouched behind the edge of the entrance beside Mando, clutching the handle of her blaster as the Mythrol opened the door. Parked inside were a handful of speeder bikes but no Stormtroopers, so they quietly began making their way through the hall to the base’s control room, holding their blasters at the ready while the grumbling Mythrol knocked out the security feed. Once they reached the control room, Cara hurried forward to take out the officer seated at a row of monitors while Mando and (Y/N) holstered their blasters and examined the controls.
“This should buy us some time,” (Y/N) mumbled, switching off all the different security feeds for the base. “Mando?”
The Mandalorian looked up from the monitor he’d been scrolling through. “I’ve found the heat shaft.” They drew their blasters as the others moved away from the dead Imperial officer. “Let’s go.”
Hastening through the hallways of the Imperial base, the five of them were on high alert for any Stormtroopers or Imperial officers. (Y/N) was on-edge as she fell into step beside Mando; she would’ve preferred a full-on assault to sneaking around, but she had faith in her partner’s plan. “The access corridor should be right past this junction.” Right as they came to the junction, Mando’s arm suddenly shot out and stopped her in her tracks just as a pair of chatting Stormtroopers walked by; she looked up into his helmet’s visor and nodded in silent thanks before following Cara down the now-empty hallway. They soon came upon a closed door and Mando gestured to the control panel beside it. “There, Mythrol, slice that door.”
(Y/N) anxiously kept watch while Karga quietly ordered, “Use the code cylinder.”
Moments later, the door slid open and (Y/N) turned away from the empty hallway, following the others through a second doorway and into the heat shaft. The first thing she registered was the strong smell of sulfur emanating from the shaft and when she moved to stand beside Mando, she looked down and saw the glowing orange lava bubbling down below.
White-hot flames. A village in smoldering ruins as people ran away screaming and crying. Stormtroopers raising their flamethrowers and blasters, leveling them at the retreating villagers and firing without hesitation…
“(Y/N)!” Two familiar strong arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her backwards, away from the edge of the heat shaft that she’d nearly toppled over; her knees gave out and she felt herself being dragged to sit against the wall as she realized that her body was shaking. In a flash, Mando was kneeling in front of her, his gloved hands resting on her shoulders. “(Y/N), what’s wrong, are you hurt?” Her voice wouldn’t work, so all she could do was shake her head and squeeze her eyes shut to block out the glow of the lava. “Osik!” He swore and she heard him hurriedly ask, “What do I do?”
“Captain. C’mon, Captain, I need you to look at me.” Cara’s voice was clear and strong in front of her, and (Y/N) forced herself to open her eyes; the marshal smiled and nodded in encouragement. “That’s it, Captain. You’re safe here, okay?” She glanced over at Mando beside her. “Stay here and try calming her down, I’ll cover Karga and Mythrol.”
Once Cara stood and made her way back to where the others stood, Mando scooted closer and held one of (Y/N)’s trembling hands between his own. “I’m here, alor’ad, but you’ve gotta snap out of it. C’mon, cyar’ika…” While she continued struggling for air, Mando took the hand he’d been holding and, without any hesitation, brought it up underneath the bottom of his helmet to rest against the skin of his face; (Y/N) blinked in surprise, unable to move her hand or look away from the visor of his helmet as he continued. “You feel that, ner cyar’ika alor’ad? I’m right here with you, no matter what, but I need you to pull yourself together so we can get the hell out of here, okay?”
Her partner’s words, spoken with such earnest conviction, combined with the grounding feel of his stubbled cheek gave (Y/N) the strength she needed to take a deep breath and nod. “I’m good, I’m good…” With Mando’s help, she eased herself up off the ground and held her blaster in her hand. “How’re we looking?”
A blaring alarm rang out and mixed with the sound of the lava churning more violently below, but Mando was quick to usher her out of the heat shaft before she could see anything else; from somewhere behind the two of them, the Mythrol called out, “All right, she’s gonna blow, let’s go! Let’s get out of here!”
The five of them ran down the hallways, their blasters still drawn and escape being the only thing on their mind. Beside (Y/N), Cara asked, “How long do we have?”
“Ten minutes at most!”
They ran faster, only stopping to flatten themselves against a wall when they heard a group of Stormtroopers running to their battle stations; at Mando’s command, they turned down a different hallway to avoid the soldiers. Soon, they rounded another corner and found themselves in a large room, where two Imperial officers stood before a computer monitor.
One officer drew his blaster. “Destroy it!” He shouted to the second officer before firing on them; (Y/N) fired back along with the others and allowed Mando to usher her off to the side for better cover. Moments later, both men were dead and the room was silent once again.
(Y/N) was about to turn towards Mando when a light-blue glow caught her eye and caused her to freeze in her tracks. They were standing in front of a wall of oval-shaped tanks, and floating within each of them were vaguely-humanoid creatures. This isn’t an Imperial military base, she thought to herself, her blood running cold at the gruesome sight.
“I thought you said this was a forward operating base.” Cara’s horrified whisper broke the silence.
“I thought it was.”
“No, this isn’t a military operation,” (Y/N) swallowed the lump in her throat and tore her eyes away from the tanks to look at her companions. “…This is a lab.”
Cara nodded. “We need to get into the system and figure out what’s going on.”
The Mythrol whimpered in fear. “What about the reactor?”
“Do it!”
Scrambling to comply with the marshal’s orders, the Mythrol hurried over to the computer monitors and began pressing buttons while they returned their gazes to the tanks. Mando stood beside (Y/N), his free hand clenching and un-clenching as he stared. “I don’t like this.”
“…replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure.”
They turned to see a hologram of a be-speckled man playing, and they slowly approached it as their words continued on.
“There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we’ll find a donor with a higher M-count, though. I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him.”
(Y/N)’s mouth fell open in horror and she brought her free hand up to cover it. Based on everything that Mando had told her about his past adventures, she knew that the man speaking was Dr. Pershing, the man who’d briefly experimented on the child before Mando rescued him.
“If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon.”
Her head snapped up just as Mando looked down at her, and she didn’t have to see his face to know what he was thinking. “This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead.”
Shaking his head, the Mythrol nervously replied, “No. This recording’s three days old.”
(Y/N) stared up into Mando’s visor, her eyes widening in fear. “If Gideon’s alive, then-”
Blaster fire forced them all to duck and take aim at the small group of Stormtroopers entering the room; (Y/N) shot one directly in the chest as her partner shoved her towards the wall of tanks for better cover, using his beskar-clad body to shield her as they continued exchanging blaster fire. Once all the Stormtroopers lay dead on the floor, (Y/N) pushed herself off the wall and moved to stand beside Mando, her fear for the child’s safety being the only thing on her mind.
“We need to get the kid.”
“Jet back, you’re faster that way,” Cara ordered, her blaster still raised as she nodded. “We’ll head back to the speeder and meet you in town.”
(Y/N) and Mando turned and ran out of the room, sprinting down the maze of hallways and blasting any Stormtroopers that got in their way. She realized that her partner was leading them back to the heat shaft but she set aside her discomfort for the sake of the child she’d grown to care for.
“Hold tight and don’t look down!” Mando called out to her over the loud churning of the lava as they skidded into the heat shaft. (Y/N) did as he asked, throwing her free arm around him and looking straight up at the shaft’s exposed opening high above; he held her tight and was about to activate his jetpack when a Stormtrooper appeared on the ledge across from them and fired his blaster, the bolt ricocheting off of Mando’s chest plate. (Y/N) quickly aimed her blaster and shot the Stormtrooper just as Mando spun her out of the way and shot at the two other Stormtroopers in the hallway behind them.
“Just go, I’ll cover us!” Tightening her hold on the Mandalorian, (Y/N) felt his body tense as they flew up the shaft; she quickly spotted two Stormtroopers standing at the top of the shaft and fired her blaster, killing them both with two shots. They landed harshly on the top of the cliff, and Mando let out a grunt of pain when another blaster shot rang out; she was quick to shoot the Stormtrooper and turn her attention back to Mando, who was clutching his side. “Mando! Are you hit?!”
“It’s just a graze, let’s go!” Before she could get a look at his wound her partner swept her into his arms, one arm holding her around the back and the other wrapping underneath the crook of her knees, just as he activated his jetpack again and flew them into the air.
They sped through the skies of Nevarro at breakneck speed, and all (Y/N) could do was worry about the child. Neither of them spoke, but she knew that Mando was just as anxious as she was; he kept urging his jetpack to go faster and she could feel his gloved fingers digging into her side. In no time, the town came into view and they were landing on the ground near the entrance gate.
Mando set her down and began backing away while he spoke. “Get the ship prepped for take-off, I’ll go get the kid!”
With a nod, (Y/N) turned and sprinted to the Razor Crest while he ran towards the town, her shoulders sagging in relief when she realized that the ship looked as good as new. Two mechanics tried calling out to her but she ignored them, dashing up the extended ramp and climbing the ladder into the cockpit. She threw herself down into the pilot’s seat, buckling herself in and preparing the newly-repaired ship for take-off; her experienced hands flew across the buttons and switches and in no time at all, the engines were rumbling to life.
“That’s it, baby,” (Y/N) muttered proudly, patting the side of one of the control panel’s and glancing over her shoulder in time to see Mando climbing into the cockpit, the child resting securely in the crook of his arm. “Thank the Maker!”
Mando set the child, who was preoccupied with the package of cookies in his hand, down onto one of the passenger seats and stood beside her as she slowly guided the ship upwards. “You booted everything up that quickly?”
Raising a brow at his impressed tone, she cockily replied, “I told you ex-smugglers were the better pilots. Now, strap yourselves in and let me show you how it’s done.”
The Mandalorian hurriedly secured his and the child’s restraints and once she was sure they were strapped in, (Y/N) engaged the thrusters and piloted the ship through the clear blue skies of Nevarro back towards the Imperial base. It didn’t take her long to spot their companions down below; they were in the Trexler Marauder instead of the Mythrol’s speeder and were being chased out of the rocky ravine by three TIE Fighters. The Imperial ships fired on them and began breaking away for another pass, but (Y/N) clutched the joysticks tightly in her hands and fired, shooting one ship down in one blast. The two remaining TIE Fighters broke off into opposite directions, so she pushed a lever up and followed the one on the right, climbing higher and higher into the atmosphere.
“You’d better hang on, little guy!” (Y/N) called out over her shoulder, smiling to herself when the child let out an excited squeal. As they reached the white clouds of the planet, she fired on the ship, managing to hit its wing and hastily swerve to avoid the exploding wreckage. The child giggled in delight as she switched off the engines, letting the ship fall backwards and stall in the air while the thrusters finished charging.
“Alor’ad…”
Grinning widely, (Y/N) slammed a lever up and steered the speeding ship into a corkscrew spin towards the third TIE Fighter; the small ship fired at them without landing a hit and with a simple squeeze of her finger, she fired their guns and watched with a satisfied smile as the Imperial ship blew up. After dodging the wreckage, she smoothly pulled out of their nosedive and leveled out the ship, switching the controls onto autopilot as she turned around to look at her passengers. “Not too bad, huh, guys?”
Mando merely stared back at her in stunned silence and while she flushed in embarrassment, the child blinked and threw up blue-tinted vomit onto his robe; quickly turning his attention to the guilty-looking child, her partner heaved a sigh. “Oh boy.”
“That was some impressive flying, Mando! What do I owe you?”
While the two of them used the edge of his cape to hurriedly clean up the child, Mando called out through the ship’s communication radio, “That wasn’t me flying, Karga, I told you I’d hired a hell of a pilot.” (Y/N) ducked her head to hide her bashful smile and he continued. “With the repairs, let’s call it even.”
“Can I at least buy you two a drink? I need to find out why an impressive woman like (Y/N)’s hanging around with a bum like you!”
“Sorry, we have some…onboard maintenance we’ve gotta take care of.” Seeing that the child was looking better, (Y/N) turned her attention back to the ship’s controls and switched back to manual piloting.
“Then we’ve gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.”
Karga sighed. “Well, good luck flying, my friends.”
“And Captain? May the Force be with you.”
(Y/N)’s hands stilled on the controls and the corner of her mouth curled into a small smile at Cara’s farewell. “And also with you, Soldier.”
The ship flew through the upper atmosphere of Nevarro and in no time, they were traveling through hyperspace towards their next big adventure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!
Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain Osik-Shit Cyar’ika-Darling, Sweetheart Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain
Chapter Twelve
Taking Care of Business Masterlist
Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​
127 notes · View notes
jenosslut · 4 years
Text
sugary euphoria
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pairings: mark lee x fem!reader
genre/s: fluff, suggestive, angst, romance
details: strangers to lovers!au, high school!au
warnings: suggestive content, suggestive humor, explict language
word count: 3k
synopsis: where two sunset lovers experience feelings they never knew existed through the journey of adolescence.
a/n: i absolutely hate how this turned out im so sorry. a special thank you to @navyhyuck, @heartyyjeno and @neojaems for beta reading this. an even more special thank you to @hunjins for always believing in me no matter what.
taglist: @hunjins @neovrse @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @jjikyuu @mellowvoidexpertfriend
couldn’t tag: @markslovelymaid
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02.09.2016
you got me breathless, got me begging you to drive me insane
The weather stays warm, in hopes of smiling on everyone. The buoyant sun rays travel directly into the brunette’s eyes, though he doesn’t whine in exasperation like many would do as he is surrounded by his most favored people.
Ecstatic is how he feels around people he loves, and Mark absolutely adores his friends. Those six people- whom he labels as ‘idiots’- aid him to hold onto an endless amount of belligerent days, especially at school.
Even though Mark isn’t exactly the best with words and doesn’t prefer to demonstrate verbal affection, the legitimately adorable laugh escaping his lips whenever he’s around them is enough to let everyone acknowledge the amount of adoration he holds for the six boys.
“Are there two butts or one butt?” He hears Donghyuck question, who has an over dramatically serious expression accompanied with lips shaped in a pout pressed on his face.
“One butt Dongfuck, one butt.” Renjun is the one to respond between gritted teeth and heavy breath, thoroughly devastated with the unnecessary discussions Donghyuck never seems to leave alone.
“There’s two! They’re separate!” Chenle exclaims in an avoidably resounding manner, causing a couple heads to involuntarily shoot towards their direction in inquisitiveness; silently judging the group of boys.
“Why are we having this conversation again?” Jeno states, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulder who happens to nod, displaying agreement in the older’s words.
“Ask Dongtruck.” Renjun says, raising his arms upwards in defence.
“Yeah ask Dongtruck- wait what?” Donghyuck continues, then widens his eyes at the realization; turning his head towards Renjun as his jaw commences to part.
“I’m selling a Dingdong for free, contact me for details!” Chenle screechs, throwing his hands towards the air as the boys surrounding his figure stare at him in incredulity. Many people’s attention switch onto the group of boys again, allowing them- except Chenle- to give reactions out of embarrassment.
“When will you learn to like, shut the fuck up?” Renjun silently shouts at Chenle’s face in exasperation, biting his bottom lip as he runs his hand in between his hair.
“We’re supposed to bully Yuckie here, not me! Gosh, what a traitor.” Chenle responds, letting a dramatic sigh escape his lips, poking his tongue inside his cheek.
“If only you used the creativity you use for Hyuck’s nicknames for pragmatic reasons.” Jeno states, shaking his head.
“How do you even know what pragmatic means?” Mark questions- more to himself- in a lower tone, glancing at Jeno.
“I’m not Renjun, Mark.” Jeno replies, patting Mark’s back as Mark nods at his friend’s words.
The moment Mark Lee turns his head towards the side, his eyes witness a smile; looking dazzling as ever. The sight of you standing exquisite, the most guilelessly enticing expression sitting delicately on your features is enough to cast anyone under your spell.
Your friend says something, you laugh again. Your eyes meet as you involuntarily turn your head towards his direction. Mark’s breath gets caught in his throat, thoroughly overwhelmed. You send him a wave, then boom.
Spark.
Mark Lee bewitches under your spell.
13.11.2016
I see rainbows when i think of us
First Date
First dates are cute, adorably delighting. Kind of awkward. But that’s fine, because it’s delirious. Maybe not euphoric, but definitely a form of ecstasy.
A new experience, a new person. Something contrasting, something exciting.
It’s not the transcendence that makes it appealing, because no first date is perfect. It’s the imperfection, the sheepish smiles shared throughout the day, the embarrassing-feeling sentences that appear cuter than embarrassing.
Maybe the occasion is cliché, maybe it’s not worth enough to be included in a million-selling novel. But the experience is worth it. A simple exchange of ice cream flavors, simple exchanges of words as you amble around a keenly alive park. Cliché, but new. Cliché, but delighting.
Things are a bit less expected in Mark’s case.
The arid leaves fall as a gospel choir, harmonized in such a way that celebrates each hue and shows how they complete each other. The fallen leaves create an alluring pathway as you amble exquisite with Mark besides your figure, hand in hand.
“I think i’m seeing rainbows.” You state breathily, head falling on top of Mark’s shoulder; coming in contact with the soft fabric of his maroon jacket.
“Where? It’s dark though, i don’t think that’s possible,” Mark responds, his eyes scanning through the sky involuntarily as he takes your words legitimately.
“It didn’t rain, it’s not sunny either.” He continues on analyzing his surroundings, not exactly sure of what you meant with the words you had previously put together.
“You make me see rainbows.” You smile, astonished at his oblivious nature.
“How do i do that?” He asks, eyes slightly wide as his lips unintentionally form a small pout.
“I was trying to be poetic, Mark. I know it was bad, you could've just gone along with it.” You let out a playful scoff, the small yet absolute smile continuing its appearance on your lips.
“No no it wasn't bad, i just-” He rambles.
“Oh my god, i’m joking. Calm down, i was just trying to say how you made me happy.” You let out a full hearted laugh this time, clearly amused.
“Oh…” Is all that Mark lets out at the realization, head turning towards the side in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat.
Cute, you think to yourself.
And yes, Mark Lee is indeed an adorable boy who enchants you in even more bewitching experiences.
01.02.201
I love the way I light up when you call me
Your feet play with the treacherously empty and dry looking sand while concentrating on the undulating sound of the shallow turquoise ocean. The majestic ocean seems to be wrapped in a darker color, which could easily be blamed on the endless darkness of the sky caused by the time being nearly five in the morning.
Your head lays on Mark’s shoulder while the jacket he had given you minutes prior- insisting that you were shivering- sits on your shoulders. He holds your body close to his own, feeling an- what he labels as- unreasonable urge to protect you from anything that could occur.
You sit there, a serene feeling captivating you as you listen to each other's alleviating breaths and heartbeats. You throw small sets of words here and there to create some type of a conversation, delighting in the consolatory atmosphere.
"Your heart is beating so fast." You softly speak in incredulity, eyes slightly wide at the unanticipated moment.
Mark widens his eyes, a sheepish smile commencing to play on his lips. He starts mumbling and stuttering as he tries to put together meaningful words, though they don’t make any sense to say the least.
“Mine is beating fast too, if that makes you feel better.” You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from, yet you keep on staring right into his sparkling orbs with your own; the most ravishing smile sitting buoyantly on your lips.
Mark muttres out a few “Oh”s before lazing his visibly tensed body, slowly melting in your arms as you pull his body even closer to your own.
As the sun begins to rise, a song along with a valse melody commences to play out of the speakers Mark had brought. You softly grab the brunette’s hand, taking it into your own; signaling him to dance with a playful smile on your face.
Mark lifts himself upwards as the sheepish smile from earlier commences to display its appearance back on his features. He uses some help from your hand as he lets out a nervous chuckle, youthful hysteria running through his body.
The two of you sway your bodies according to the mellifluous melody rhyming behind. You recline your head on Mark’s chest, getting into a more comfortable position.
"You're beautiful." Mark’s graceful sounding whisper is heard clearly in your right ear after finally gathering up the courage to state a compliment, causing the smile on your lips to grow uncontrollably.
Before leaning in, you go through a whole debate about whether to kiss him or not inside your head. Finally, you lean in; mixing both of your uniquely ambrosial scents as you catch his lips in between your own.
Although the kiss isn’t exactly perfect, the experience is.
“Be my girlfriend?” Mark asks in a whisper as he uses his right hand to keep your chin up, staring right inside your eyes fervently.
“Yeah.” You whisper back with a heavy breath, not able to control the smile growing on your lips.
The newly rising sun accompanies your bodies as you try to move your lips against each other’s in the middle of a beach. Youthful giggles get thrown around as you share your first kiss, a feeling unfamiliarly intriguing enchanting you.
Maybe, maybe you had a future with Mark. Maybe he was someone who would be there for you during your worst nightmares, a shoulder to cry on after calamitous fights, a soul to share your overwhelming ecstasy with.
Though, you don't know that just yet. You never know what the future holds for you. So you completely give your all to him, living through each second of one of the many euphoric moments you share.
Mayhaps this is the beginning of a new journey...
14.03.2017
I lose my mind when you whisper sweet nothings
Gratuitously, Mark guides your body towards his bedroom; hands all over each other’s bodies as giggles out of hysteria escape your lips. You run your hands through his brown locks, plunking them eagerly as your already plumped lips messily move against each other’s.
Mark lets out another breathy giggle as your noses brush, your hands traveling on his body. Your hands find their way towards the hem of his shirt, fingers fiddling with it; contemplating on whether to take it off or not.
Mark gives you a short nod, displaying approval within his actions as he sends you an adorable smile. You glance upwards to steal a glance from his features, only to get lost inside his doe orbs; sparkling in youthful enthusiasm.
He pushes your body onto his bed, trying to be as meticulous as he could. He helps you slide his shirt off as the kiss gets even messier. After unintentionally biting his bottom lip, you mutter out multiple apologies as Mark assures you; running his hands through your hair soothingly.
He pulls your body onto his lap, blushing when he sees your eyes glued onto his upper body. Your eyes meet when you move your head, both shying away at the shared stare. You land him a kiss, on his cheek instead of his lips. Giggles continuously flow through both of your lips as you keep on planting kisses on his cheeks.
Your lips land on his nose on accident when attempting to shower him in sweet cheek kisses, allowing another giggle out of timidity to be shared.
“I love you, like a lot.” Mark whispers admiringly, the adorably sheepish smile never washing away from his lips as the first ever “I love you” effortlessly falls out. You involuntarily smile at the statement, melting into his honeyed words.
“I love you too.” You whisper back, exchanging the specific three words for the first time.
You spend your night blissfully, not precisely knowing what you are doing. Yet you sure are delightful inside Mark’s tight embrace, heart clenching inside your chest at every amiable touch.
23.05.2017
You’re my favorite mistake
“Mark,” You speak out, fidgeting on his bed uncomfortably as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt.
“Yes, baby?” Mark replies; not exactly paying the most attention as his eyes stay still on the laptop seated on his desk, trying to get an essay done.
“Love, are you okay?” He questions when you don’t respond, diverting is doe orbs towards your direction.
“I’m leaving,” You say as your teeth immediately find their way towards your bottom lip, biting and peeling the skin off in apprehension.
“For university, i’m moving.” You continue, explaining yourself when he doesn’t display any type of reaction.
Mark finally lets out a small yet heavy “When” as his lips part, staring at you dispiritedly.
“This sunday.” You reply faintly after a pause.
“And you decide to tell me about it now? Three days before you leave?” Mark’s eyes go wide as his voice raises, visibly accustomed.
“Calm down.” You attempt to calm him down, though it doesn’t exactly work as he shouts even louder each time he parts his lips.
“Do you even care about my feelings?” Mark clamors.
“Mark, what are you saying?” You ask in incredulity, aching to believe you didn’t hear him accurately.
“Look Y/n, I support whatever you do. But not when you tell me right before it happens!” He continues as a scoff out of mockery follows his words.
“I’m sorry i just-” You start rambling, not having an idea on how to ease his emotions.
“A sorry doesn’t fix everything!” He extends, not allowing you to speak.
“I know-”
“Good that you know! I hope you don’t make the same mistake next time with someone else.”
“Someone else? Mark, are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” You ask as a feeling of overwhelming incredulity captures you. His words allow your eyes to widen as your lips part afterwards.
“What’s there to not break up over, Y/n? How do you expect to continue this once you���re away?” He shouts again, making you pause.
“Okay, i wish you the best.” You state with a shaky voice as tears commence to gliss up inside your eyes, causing them to look glossy. You try your best to not blink, holding your tears in.
You can’t cry. No, you can’t cry in front of him.
So you get up and leave.
--
You are still young.
Not everything lasts, not everything is meant to last.
Each moment is worth living without allowing a knot to form inside your stomach in worry. Experiences have reasons, purposes. So do you, you have a purpose. Cry your heart out after agonizing fights, laugh in delight with all you’ve got; enchanted in an overwhelming euphoria.
You are shaped by awkward encounters, innocently sheepish grins, pernicious altercations, anguished tears. Mistakes you make at eighteen become experiences you thank at thirty.
Sugary moments come to an end, so do the bitter ones. Nothing is permanent, nothing is promised. You can’t live with worry, you can’t live in pain.
Life is short, short enough for you to give each moment a chance. Short enough to feel everything, to live and not just exist.
Somewhere out there, there’s someone for you. Someone willing to cherish all your imperfections, someone willing to shower you in love as immense adoration dances in their sparkling orbs.
Love...love is alluring, fascinating, breathtakingly dazzling. There’s so much to explore within love, so much to explore within a person. New euphoric moments to be shared, new eyes to get lost in, new hearts to beat together.
Love with all you have, give people every ounce of what they deserve without worrying about the ending. Every moment comes to an end. Every kiss has a final share, every breakdown has a final tear.
There is a beginning to each journey, there’s also an ending to those journeys. No time is worth spending cooped up in your room with tears drenching on your features, no time is worth contemplating on whether or not to do something in worry.
Although this is an anguished ending to the previous chapter, it’s a sugary euphoric beginning for another one...
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sleepylixie · 4 years
Text
I Hate to Admit
College! AU Bang Chan X fem! reader
Imperium Universe || Jisung || Seungmin || Chan 
2k (I’m so sorry), fluffiest fluff 
Request? Yes! Hope you like this, Anon!! Apologies about getting a wee bit carried away. >.<
Warnings: None!
A/N: I liked writing this, even though it’s waayyyy longer than I expected it to be oops. This is an extension of the same universe as this Jisung fic and this Seungmin fic, but you can definitely read this as a standalone! Do let me know what you think about this fic, I’d love to hear feedback!! ONTO THE FIC :D
Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist
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The skate park right outside your campus was always an interesting sight. There were always a lot of people around, enjoying themselves on the gentle slopes and plateaus. You were always mystified by the way the skateboarders could so easily throw themselves into the air, seemingly unafraid of taking a tumble to the concrete floor.
You’d pass by the skate park thrice a week in the early evening, on your way to a part-time shift at Imperium- the closest bar to your university. Your shifts ran late sometimes, bordering on midnight when you’d step out of Imperium’s back door.
More often than not, you’d encounter the same lone figure in the skatepark on your way back- an average-sized, lean figure who had a way with the skateboard that you’d never seen anybody have before. The first time you spotted him, you stopped and watched for a few moments as he made his way up the slopes like it was nothing at all- he was that good.
Skateboarding wasn’t your thing as much as people watching- there were so many interesting people in the world, so many different kinds of personalities that you couldn’t get enough. You would write them into stories of back-alley romance, tales of rippling fantasy and chronicles of traitorous woe,  reveling in the way your worlds and characters built themselves up along the plot.
It became an unconscious habit, seeing the boy(it seemed like a boy, judging from his impeccably built shoulders and a penchant for extremely sleeveless muscle tops.) on your way back from your late bartending shifts.
He was curious, you decided. Who only visited the skate park when it was at it’s emptiest despite being so good? Did he not like attention? Was he shy? You made a mental note to try and talk to him one day- you weren’t hesitant with your curiosities. Someday, when you weren’t bogged down by your already numerous Works in progress and university, you would approach him and find out more about this midnight skateboarder.
But as it turned out, you didn’t have to wait too long.
//
“Y/N! Where were you, it’s almost 1 a.m!” Your sorority sister Chaeyoung sat up on her bed as you walked into your shared room. Her short blonde hair fluttered around her face as she slipped off the bed, bounding towards you. “I had a longer shift than normal, Imperium was weirdly full.” You responded, pulling your bag off your shoulder.
“Alpha Phi Alpha is throwing another rager. Do you want in?”
That’s when you heard it. You’d been so absorbed in the music from your own earphones that you didn’t even noticed the deep bass thumping through the air, the muffled cheers and screams of enjoyment. Of course there was a party going on, it was a Friday night.
Life next to a fraternity house wasn’t the most peaceful, but you didn’t mind it. Your sorority, Delta Kappa, was housed right next to the Alpha Phi Alpha frat house, close enough to share a fenced wall.
The Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity was the most sought after fraternity on campus; acceptance meant instant skyrocketing of social worth. It was all extremely cliché: the best frat on campus, filled with the smartest, most attractive guys, throwing the most memorable parties and yet maintaining their stellar record of being good at pretty much everything.
“Sure, why not? I have some energy to let off.” You smile, throwing open your shared wardrobe. Chae’s eyes shone wickedly, she was sold by the idea of any kind of party. “Are any of the other sisters coming??”
“Jennie, Lia and Yeri already left. I thought I’ll wait around for you.”
“How nice of you, Chae,” You huff out another laugh as you held out an outfit for her to see. “Ooh, I like it. Now hurry up, right?”
“Okay, okay!!”
20 minutes later, you were walking into your next-door frat house with Chae, already warmed by the electric vibe. “Y/N!!! You’re here!!”  There he was-tall, blonde and devastatingly handsome. Also seemingly tipsy, by the looks of it. Hwang Hyunjin was one of your closest friends, but he had a hard time handling his liquor, even though he would stoutly disagree when sober.
“What took you so long?” He slurred slightly, slinging an arm around you and giving you a tight, alcohol-smelling hug. “Unlike some of you, I have a job, Hyunin,” You quipped, returning his embrace and pecking his cheek- your usual greeting.
“Whatever, you’re here now.” He scoffed and ruffled your hair. “ We just made some new additions to the frat, you should come and meet them.”
“Sure, why not?” So Hyunjin took your hand and led you through the throngs of partying people. Soon enough, you stepped onto the roof of the frat house, a fairly clean space for being set up by a troupe of boys. Fairy lights left the people on the terrace bathed in soft yellow lights, a rather aesthetic sight.
There were around a handful of people lounging around on the couches and carpets, but Hyunjin led you to a particular group of people nearest to the railing, laughing and talking in a circle. You knew he had a gang of friends from all over the campus that just seemed to have an inexplicable pull towards each other.
You knew some of them by appearance from other ragers- music major Jisung with the cheeky smile, law student Seungmin with the puppy-eyes and an acidic tongue, Changbin with his almost flawlessly built body (you always paused for a second to admire his physique) and Minho, the guy who for some ominous reason always had bruised knuckles.
“Y/N! Hey!” Jeongin exclaimed, eyes brightening up in an endearing smile. “Hey Innie,” you grinned, happy to see another familiar face in the junior from the same major as you. “Yes yes hello and all that, Innie,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, ignoring the look of mock offense he got from Jeongin. “I brought Y/N to meet Chan, coz he’s new to the frat, and my favorite sorority girl should be the first to know about the new fish.”
He threw an arm out, pointing to one of the guys leaning against the railing of the terrace, all smiles and black hair. You extended your own smile towards him, already giving him a casual once over- He wasn’t too tall, with impeccably built shoulders in a muscle top….wait. The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it.
“Are you the weirdo that goes skateboarding at midnight?”
A pause rippled across everybody in the circle, the smile on Chan’s face reducing to an incredulous splutter as Jisung choked on a giggle- that did it. All of the guys dissolved into peals of laughter, loud and unrestrained.
“Sorry about that,” You said, letting out an embarrassed sigh as you stepped around the circle to get closer to Chan. “I’ve seen you in the skate park when I’m getting back after work.”
He shrugged, his handsome features still splashed with sheepishness. “It’s fine, it was just a matter of time, I guess.” Over the laughter, you could hear how smooth his voice was, like melting chocolate.
“If it counts for anything, I thought you’re really good at it.” You weren’t the beat around the bush with your words. “You made it look so easy.”
A light blush reddened his ears as he grinned at the compliment. “Thanks.. Y/N, was it?”
You spent the rest of the night with the boys, caught in easy banter- but particularly, you got to know Chan. He had been living off campus until he’d decided to apply for the fraternities on a whim, ending up with an acceptance to Alpha phi Alpha. He was a business major, with a creative minor in music producing- just like Changbin. He was a natural extrovert, effortless with conversation and people skills, a man married to his work-to the point that he regularly lost sleep over it. He was also a bit of a dork, you noticed, with his random bursts of exaggerated hand movements and lame jokes.
The sun was beginning to rise when you decided to get back home. “It was nice getting to know you, Channie,” you grinned, pulling him into an easy hug and pecking his cheek.
“Likewise, Y/N.” He smiled his captivating smile at you, before walking you to the frat house door. “Before I go, what do you say about exchanging numbers?” You asked. He was a good sort, the kind of guy who’d make a really good friend. Why not?
Chan agreed amicably and sent you off with promises to catch up soon, leaving you feeling light and happy.
To your surprise, he ended up dropping by your sorority the very next morning, asking if you were up for waffles at a nearby café. You happened to be awake at the time and decided to tag along with him- even though it was 6 in the morning.
“The guys refuse to wake up early and join me,” he complained, holed up in the café with plates of waffles and orange juice in front of you. “Chan, be honest,” You chuckled. “The only reason we’re awake at ass o’ clock is because both of us can’t sleep to save our lives.” He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Stop wise cracking and get on eating, Y/N.”
That café run cemented your day-old friendship into one of peaceful camaraderie, a safe space for each other within the chaos of your friend circles.
//
Winter melted slowly into spring, bringing tidings of new beginnings, assignment and semester exams and subsequently, end of semester parties. As always, Alpha phi Alpha was throwing a rager of a party that was expected to be the best all semester.  Your entire sorority had received invitations and were all excited to drown out the stress of exams week. You, on the other hand, were also thinking about something else. Someone, rather-Chan.
You and Chan had only grown close over the course of the past months,  gradually bonding over ungodly morning cafe runs, late night texts between breaks and video calls asking for outfit opinions.
You frequented the frat house more often, a fact that Hyunjin rejoiced (and teased you relentlessly) over. Chaeyoung only gazed at you with a suggestive look in her eyes when you slipped into the room at 2 a.m in the morning with one of Chan’s many black hoodies hanging off your shoulders. What, it was winter, it was cold on your way back from Imperium and he offered! Chan, to his credit, seemed to be just as invested in this newly growing friendship as you were. He walked you back from Imperium whenever he was at the skatepark, invited you on his midnight skate runs,  even almost breaking his arm trying to teach you how to balance on his skateboard.
It was an outlet for his energy, he explained one day. Sometimes working on music or going on a run didn’t give him the same sense of calm that skateboarding did. It wasn’t about the attention for him- with Chan, it almost never was. Not surprisingly, you liked that about him.  You liked Chan, for all his insomniac, stress skateboarding, black hoodie hoarding self.
The party was already in full swing when you and Chaeyoung knocked on the main door. One of the frat boys you didn’t know opened the door, smirking at you before yelling over his shoulder. “Yo, Chan, your girl’s here!”
Your eyes widened, exchanging an amused glance with Chae, who was openly laughing at your expression. Chan’s girl? Not that you hated the sound of that.. But you were just a friend- a friend who had a crush on him.. Right??
Chan hurried to the door that very instant, shoo-ing his frat brother off. “Sorry about that,” he murmured , exchanging hugs and cheek kisses with you and Chae. “To the usual spot?” he grinned, comically offering you his arm.
“Of course, my dearest,” you gushed, the two of you bursting into a fit of giggles as you linked your arm with his, allowing Chan to steer you towards the staircase leading up to the terrace. Once on the rooftop, you were met with a familiar sight- 7 boys giggling and talking amongst themselves in a loose circle near the railing. “Chan, don’t hog all of Y/N’s attention, she’s here for the party, you know?” Jisung called out the second he spotted the two of you heading towards them.
Amidst a gale of laughter, Chan frowned indignantly, opening his mouth to give Jisung a tongue lashing before you broke in, a sly smile stamped across your own face. “Who says I’d mind it??”
A chaotic chorus of 7 male voices responding to you had you laughing aloud, scanning Chan’s face for any discomfort. But he only had flaming ears, shifty eyes,  and a shy smile trained on you- a smile that shifted from shy to teasing in split seconds.
“If that’s the case, then I’m stealing Y/N for the night, you guys!” He declared, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door the two of you had just walked through. “Chan, what are you doing?” You breathed out in amusement, not pulling your hand away. Your heart was beating out of your chest at everything going on, especially with Chan’s warm hand enclosing yours and the way he’d just smiled at you-
“Something I’ve wanted to do for a while now,” Chan’s voice was exactly as you knew it, smooth, warm melted chocolate. “Come with me to the skatepark. Just for a while.” Who were you to say no to that voice?
//
Chaeyoung opened the door to the sorority early next morning, squawking in laughter when she saw who stood in front of her. You in Chan’s hoodie, your hand in his, your lipstick staining the side of Chan’s jaw and the kicker- you hugging Chan, quickly landing a soft kiss on his lips before skipping into the house.
Chaeyoung could only look at the adoring look on Chan’s face as you disappeared into the house and close the door, laughing quietly.  Ah, young love. 
179 notes · View notes
kurtstinypurse · 4 years
Note
for the prompt meme thing: 18. celebrity!au + 9. strangers to lovers + “i’m rambling again, aren’t i?” pretty pls. for the rambling of it all and us etc
so this is way longer than that prompt post had in mind, but. I needed to give this the length it (and you) deserved!!
-
Kurt shouldn’t be checking his Instagram comments, and he knows it.
In fact, he makes a point not to, usually, because he knows what he’ll find - a sea of half-assed compliments and ass-kissing that, as nice as they are, all run together, and a scattering of rude remarks that will inevitably stick out to him and ruin his day.
And so he doesn’t check them, simple as that.
Well - until now, apparently, and he isn’t even really sure why he’s doing it as he opens the app, goes to his own page, clicks his most recent post.
Maybe he’s a masochist looking for reasons to feel insecure and beat himself up, or maybe he’s a narcissist and looking for an ego boost, or maybe he’s bored, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s home alone on a Friday night, two glasses of wine deep - but that part of it is pretty much business as usual.
But regardless, there he sits, scrolling through the comments on his latest picture - a snapshot of a model wearing his newly finished suit, floral and understated, a design he’s content with every stitch of.
As to be expected, the comments run together. There’s a lot of them these days, a larger following than he ever expected to get, back when he was an up-and-coming designer.
He’s not so up-and-coming anymore, though.
He’s established, made a name for himself and kept it, a big name, actually, becoming one of the most sought-after designers to create custom suits for events in New York - and, ironically enough, for most events in the Broadway world, for premieres and awards shows and the like.
It’s a small connection to the very world he once thought he’d be immersed in, but at the end of the day, he’s happy with what he has.
Kurt is scrolling, and he’s scrolling, and then- he pauses.
A blue verified check mark sticks out to him next to one username, and so he stops to read the comment, finding a name he recognizes, one he hadn’t expected to see.
blaineanderson ✔️ this is incredible! your designs are always great, but this one really captured me. fingers crossed I can wear one of your pieces one of these days!
Oh.
It’s interesting, actually, that Blaine hasn’t worn one of Kurt’s pieces before.
Kurt’s been aware of Blaine for a while now, vaguely tracking his progression from a stand-out off-Broadway to an understudy on Broadway to, finally, a full-fledged lead role.
He’s a hot topic, having been labeled as one to watch more than once, and Kurt knows Blaine attends the events and premieres Kurt often designs for, but they just...never crossed paths.
Or apparently they had, and Kurt’s just been missing it.
He blinks, and he reads the comment again, and he takes a long drag of wine, and he swallows, and he blinks, and he reads it again.
He realizes he’s smiling, down at his phone all alone in his apartment, no one to see it, no real reason to be doing it.
There’s no real reason why he clicks on Blaine’s profile, either, and there’s definitely no reason to explain why he clicks to follow Blaine, but if that wasn’t enough -
He clicks again, and he pushes away all room for logical thought, and he composes a message.
kurthummel: hi! this is really random, but I thought your comment on my post was really sweet, plus if you meant it, I’d love to design for you. anyways, just thought I’d say hello and thank you.
He presses his phone onto the couch cushion beside him, and he drains the rest of his wine, and he goes into the kitchen to refill his glass, and when he’s back - there’s a message there waiting for him already, much to his surprise.
blaineanderson: hey, kurt! this message was really exciting to see! I’ve actually been following your work for a long time now, and...wow. do YOU mean it? I’m not sure I’m worthy of wearing one of your designs, but at the very least, I’m so glad you said hi!
Blaine’s gracious, and he’s sweet, and Kurt already knows he’s handsome, and-
Kurt has had far too much wine.
And he has been single for far too long.
But Blaine… In a single comment and a single message, Blaine has managed to make Kurt feel more special than he’s felt in a long time, and he’s not sure why.
It’s probably the wine.
The wine is also why he writes back again - and another time, too.
kurthummel: of course I meant it! and why wouldn’t you be worthy? I actually happened to see the falsettos revival on opening night, and yours might be my favorite interpretation I’ve seen. I’m a big fan of the show, of course, and being such a lover of broadway, too… I’ve seen quite a few boots at this point, but your whizzer might have tugged at my heart the most. and your voice!
And your eyes, and your face, and your smile.
Shit.
The wine, the wine, the wine.
kurthummel: sorry, I’m rambling...
He wants to apologize for a lot more than that, but he manages to stop himself.
blaineanderson: no need to apologize! I...wow. again. you’re so kind, and it means even more because you’re so talented, too. your visions for your designs are just so thoughtful and original, especially that last one, and so I’m sure your ear is just as well-tuned so…yeah. wow. now I’m the rambling one! anyways, whizzer quickly became such a personal role for me, and I’m so happy to hear that shines through even a little bit. 
And they kind of go from there.
They keep complimenting each other for a while - there’s probably a ridiculous amount of compliments traded, actually, but they’re both doing it, and it feels like a creative exchange, almost, on topic and essentially business-related. It’s meant to be a precursor to business, actually, hopefully culminating in a project for Kurt and an attention-grabbing, show-stopping outfit for Blaine.
But then they just...keep talking, about their careers and how they like the city, about how they got to the city and where they were prior, about the songs they like and the shows they’ve seen and the movies they’d managed to miss.
It turns out they have a lot in common.
They keep talking, as Kurt finishes off his bottle of wine, as he moves to the bedroom and crawls under his sheets, burrowing into the pillows and blankets with no light but his phone screen illuminating the dark room.
At some point, he realizes he’s smiling, and he’s been smiling, to the point where his cheeks hurt, actually, but he just kind of lets himself.
Just for tonight.
-
But then it’s the next morning, and Kurt wakes up to a message from Blaine, and the conversation continues, direct messages scattered through the morning, during Kurt’s commute to the office, at work when he has the chance to sneak a moment on his phone.
And he finds himself looking for those moments to sneak a read of a message or a reply to one, kind of whenever he can.
Which is exactly what he’s doing when his boss, Isabelle, pokes her head into his office.
“Why are you smiling at your phone?” she wants to know, raising a curious, knowing eyebrow when Kurt shoots his head up to look at her, phone clattering onto his desk. “A new guy?”
“There’s- There’s no guy,” he stammers, because there isn’t, at least not the way she means, and he’s not sure why his face is getting hot.
Blaine is nice, and Kurt is nice back. That’s all it is, really - it’s nice to have someone new to talk to, to get to know, especially when they’re so- well, nice.
Isabelle hums like she doesn’t believe him, and Kurt suddenly isn’t completely convinced he believes himself.
Blaine posts a new picture of himself on Instagram that night, a classy shot from behind as he watches the sun set over the city from a tall skyscraper’s balcony, and if Kurt falls asleep thinking about the narrow lines of Blaine’s waist and the way his ass looks in those pants, well.
Kurt’s only human, after all.
-
He’s not sure when things start to change, exactly.
He can’t pinpoint the moment, but their conversations go from friendly and sweet to something more - deeper, first, a gentle delve into Blaine’s complicated family, a brief conversation about Kurt’s mom and his stepbrother, and then just- just more.
He’s sitting at his desk at work, poking at his salad with his fork and grinning at a silly picture Blaine sent him when he realizes - he feels light, and he feels giddy, almost, and he feels towards Blaine a sort of way he thought he couldn’t feel, not anymore.
But he’s feeling it, and he’s been feeling it, and he realizes, too, that he just kind of knows Blaine feels the same way.
It’s in Blaine’s messages, and it’s in the compliments that reappear when Kurt least expects it, and it’s in the emojis he uses, and it’s just-
It’s everywhere, and Kurt sits there, and he blinks, and he blinks, and he chews thoughtfully for a moment, and he decides, yeah.
He’s not going to question it.
It’s that night that Blaine asks for his phone number, and it feels like a step, and Kurt can’t help but wonder if maybe Blaine’s going to ask him out for coffee or for dinner or for drinks - they live in the same city, after all, and they know a ton of the same people and essentially run in the same circles, and it would be so easy, so easy to just take another step forward and make this real.
Kurt should be scared of that - and in the past, he would be, with a string of brief failed relationships and over three years of being fully single in recent history. He has no reason to think - well, anything.
But he’s just...not scared.
He’s cooking dinner when his phone vibrates, and he reaches for it with his free hand, expecting to find some sort of question or invitation, but instead he finds-
A video.
Unknown Number: Hey, you. It’s Blaine. I know I haven’t told you about this, but it’s only because I haven’t really told anyone about it. But besides just singing on stage, I like to try my hand at arranging my own songs, too, and I felt like sharing this one with you. xx
The attached video is just about three minutes long, and it’s of Blaine on his couch, dressed down in a sweater that screams cozy, and he has a guitar in his lap, and he smiles shyly at the camera before starting to play and to sing.
It’s an upbeat sort of song, and Blaine sings about being a king, about thinking he has it all worked out but figuring out he’s wrong, about his kingdom falling apart but being okay, about being foolish and unexpectedly falling in love.
Kurt knows it’s not for him - he isn’t stupid.
But his heart is stupid, and it’s racing in his chest, and his mouth is stupid, too, because he can’t force away his grin, and his hands are worst of all, because when the song is over, he presses to replay it, and then he replays it again.
And then he picks up his phone, and he types.
From Kurt: Blaine, that was… I don’t know what to say! The lyrics were so clever, and you’re so wonderful at guitar, and you know how I feel about your voice. I listened to it a few times, honestly, and I already want to listen to it again. Sorry, I’m rambling again, too, aren’t I? I...guess I tend to feel kind of foolish around you, actually.
From Blaine: It’s funny, I wrote this song almost a year ago with nothing to apply it to. But it’s starting to make more sense, I think. Or maybe I’m foolish, too.
From Blaine: Besides, I love to listen to you ramble.
Kurt breathes out shakily, and he blinks, and he reads the message again, and he blinks, and he smiles.
He doesn’t hesitate, and he knows he won’t regret it.
From Kurt: Are you free tomorrow night?
Blaine’s reply is near instant.
From Blaine: For you? Anytime.
-
It’s only been a week, Kurt realizes the next night as he fusses over his hair in the mirror, picks an invisible string of a thread from his vest.
A mere week since he messaged Blaine, a mere week since Blaine messaged back, and yet-
It feels like so much longer, so much more than that.
Blaine has agreed to meet Kurt at a cozy, low-lit cafe a few blocks away, one of Kurt’s favorite spots that’s coincidentally one of Blaine’s favorites, too.
It’s funny, really, how connected they’ve always been, even when they didn’t know each other yet.
Kurt isn’t used to not wanting to cancel at least a little bit. On every first date he’s been on in the past handful of years, he’s had to practically force himself out the door, force himself to try, already knowing nothing will come of it.
But now, he has to force himself not to leave for the restaurant too early.
Of course, time moves forward as it inevitably does, and it comes time, and so Kurt heads out, and he walks down the street with a rush in his chest, pulling his jacket close around himself, ready.
A breath catches in his throat as he sees Blaine waiting outside the restaurant, rocking slightly up and down on the balls of his feet in an impossibly endearing nervous motion, a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hand.
Kurt can tell the very moment Blaine sees him, too, eyes locking with Kurt still about a block away, and Blaine positively beams, radiant and happy and beautiful, and wow, Kurt made him do that.
Once he gets close enough to say hello, close enough to see all of the colors and the softness and the warmth in Blaine’s eyes, close enough to touch, Kurt is pretty much done for.
He isn’t the type to kiss on the first date, particularly not before actually having the date, but he’s not the type to pay so much attention to his Instagram comments or send someone a direct message out of the blue, either.
As he pulls Blaine close and presses their lips together, Kurt finds he’s never been happier to surprise himself.
-
(A handful of months later, Blaine wears a Hummel Designs original to the premiere of the Waitress revival, an adaptation of the very suit he commented on the picture of - with Kurt on his arm, too, there to stay.)
165 notes · View notes
igotyouniverse · 4 years
Text
Kiss me under the Mistletoe
Tumblr media
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Request: Kim Namjoon with drabble prompt 8 please Fluff for Namjoon secret crush they both have a crush on each other and Namjoon is the one to say “Oh wow – who put that mistletoe up there”?? Please??
Prompt: “Oh wow - who put that mistletoe up there?”
Genre: Fluff, secret crush, basically Namjoon pining for the reader in the cutest way
Words: 1,5k
Part of my Seasonal Requests Special - Winter Edition.
a/n: I'm back after my break! So this is the 2nd drabble a lovely anon requested. I hope you enjoy this as much as the first one! ❤️ I was so happy when you requested Namjoon because he is my bias in BTS and overall one of my ults qwq🥺 So this is extra cute and lovely! Hopefully you enjoy it just as much as I do! ❤️❄️
❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄
To say that Namjoon was nervous would be the understatement of the year. For months now, he's had the biggest crush on you – and everyone knew. Except for you. He remembered the day Yoongi introduced you as his new neighbour so clearly in his mind. The way you talked, voice soft and charming like a fairy, completely putting him under your spell. He was hooked immediately. He liked the way you talked with such grace and maturity. The way you saw things just like him, from simple things like food over to books and even the deepest philosophical questions. He couldn't resist from admiring you, following your mouth with every movement, lulled by every word falling from your plumb lips. He was mesmerized by the way you delicately moved your hands while speaking and how your long, wavy hair just fell down your shoulders in the most perfect way. For him, your were the perfect mixture of smart and sexy, just like he always imagined a women who would peak his interest. Yet, he saw your sweet side, like when you passionately talked about your loved ones and job. He even has a blurred memory of you blushing while talking to him, making his heart melt once and for all.
His friends teased him endlessly about him not having the courage to ask you out. Every time you met in your small group of friends  they exchanged conspicuously inconspicuous looks with each other, wiggling their brows at him. It annoyed him. So he knew, today was the day he finally grew some balls and made a move – indirectly. It was holiday season and like every year his friends and him threw a small Christmas party at his place. He wasn't the most creative person when it came to decorations so of course he asked for help.  “Is everyone coming tonight?”, Taehyung asked him while putting up some simple fairy lights on the walls. “Yeah, I think so.”, Namjoon answered, his hands fumbling with a mistletoe he bought in a store just a few hours ago. “Do you wanna hang that up?”, he heard a smirk in Taehyungs voice, who obviously knew about his crush on you. “Ah, I don't know, Tae.”, Namjoon sighed, a hand running through his hair desperately. “What if she doesn't see it?” he asked and looked up at his friend who looked down at him and chuckled. “Then you need to make her see it. Just hang it somewhere obvious – but not too obvious.”, his friend answered and looked across the room, “You could put it in the kitchen door. Not too obvious but easy to get her under it.”, he added and Namjoon scratched his chin, thinking about what his friend said.
“I guess.”, he just mumbled and pinned it on the door frame. He wasn't sure if it would work. And even if he managed to get her under the mistletoe – would she even kiss him? What if she ignore it or just laughed?
“Stop worrying so much. I'm pretty sure she likes you too. We all are, honestly.”, he heard Taeyhung say after hanging up the lights and coming down from the ladder he stood on. “Why are you so sure about it? Have you seen her?”, Namjoon sighed, burying his face in his hands for a quick second to let out a frustrated groan. “Yeah I have. That's why I'm sure. Everyone can see how clearly you two are just pining for each other but obviously lack some balls.”, Taehyung said to cheer up his friend and chuckled as soon as Namjoon shot an annoyed look at him.
Namjoon felt how his nervousness rose with each second passing by and the evening just kept going and going without him even exchanging one word with you, except for a quick Hi when you arrived at his place. He stared at the drink in his hand, taking a small sip, eyes following your every step. You weren't even making the slightest move towards the kitchen and he started to get frustrated. Why couldn't he just ask you out like a normal guy would? Your simple presence made him feel like a lost child, trying to get your attention yet being too shy to actually initiate a conversation. All he did, was listen to you when you talked and agree quietly. He wasn't even sure if you every listened to him when he talked. He even felt a bit confident as the party came closer but as soon as you walked through that door, wearing a dark red dress with a perfectly matched lipstick, delicate golden accessories complimenting your skin tone, looking just way too gorgeous to  be true, his confidence was gone, being a complete flustered mess.
“Okay, honestly. Make a move now.”, he heard Taehyung whisper next to him. “How? She's not even close to the kitchen.”, Namjoon answered and sighed. He wanted to add something but nearly choked on his own salvia when he saw you walking up to him. He coughed before smiling at you, forgetting how to speak for a brief second. “Nice place.”, you said with that angelic voice of yours. Taehyung excused himself, leaving you two in the living room without him. “Oh, thanks.”, he said, scratching his neck nervously. He tried his best to just calm his breath and not stare at you for too long. “I saw your book collection. It's really impressive! I even saw some of my own favourites in it.”, you chuckled and smiled at him once more but this time it really felt like his heart skipped a beat. The way you charmingly smiled at him, made his legs feel all jiggly. “Really? I can lend you some. I mean, ones you haven't read already, of course.”, he chuckled and placed his drink down on a small coffee table. “Ah, that would be sweet. There are some I don't know yet but they look really interesting.”, you said and he watched how you carefully put a strand of hair behind your ear.
He knew this was his chance he just couldn't blow it. “Um, are you hungry? I got some snacks in the kitchen.”, he tried to keep his voice as calm and down as possible but when you nodded and smiled once more he felt how he nearly bit his tongue in excitement. He felt how you walked next to him to the kitchen, his eyes fixated on the mistletoe in front of you. Just a few steps further and he had you right under it – just a few meters until he had a chance of finally kissing you. Anxiety filled his body shortly after, afraid of getting rejected by you – the women he liked just so much. But if he didn't try now, he probably wouldn't ever. So, just as soon as you stepped into the door frame he looked up and chuckled. “Oh wow – who put that mistletoe up there?”, he laughed and scratched his neck once more, before nervously looking at you, seeing how your eyes looked up at the mistletoe before back at him, the corners of your mouth forming into  a small grin. “A mistletoe? I guess we have to kiss now, don't we?”, he blinked a few times, trying to process what you just said to him. His lips curled into a big smile, feeling how his friends stared holes in his back. He cleared his throat, looking at you again, locking his gaze with yours. When he saw you smiling at him, his heart just melt right there in his chest. He carefully cupped your head in his hands, slowly bending down slightly, his breath starting to hitch, before finally connecting his lips with yours. It was like a wave hit him. The way your soft, plump lips felt on his, tasting sweet and endearing. His body filled with a warmth, which spread through his veins, making him feel happy. He was finally kissing you, still unable to fully believe it was really happening right here, right now. It might sound like a cliché but he really felt like a thousand butterflies were set free inside of his stomach. After a few seconds he slowly pulled away, looking back into your eyes seeing them glow as soon as you opened them.
“Finally.” he heard you whisper before locking his lips with yours once more.
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