#cafe beside the sea

[renadosia]

Cafe Beside The Sea - Chapter 1

— pairing: (Seokjin x reader)

— genre: Selkie AU, strangers to lovers, fluff, romance.

— summary; You return a coat to the strange customer that he accidentally left behind. Seokjin receives a marriage proposal from the pretty waitress that took his order. Both are oblivious.

— content warnings: none

— word count: 7.4k

Masterlist / Next chapter

The summer of your eleventh birthday was the first time you saw them. And the summer of your eleventh birthday, you wept into the sea.

Drip, drip, drip, went your tears into the ocean as it pushes weakly against your ankles. Drip, drip.

You kick at the water, sniffling into your wrist as you wipe at your eyes. Drip, drip.

(Seven tears to summon a selkie, they say, go and cry into the ocean. Shapeshifters, both human and seal- they shed their coats.)

There was a lot that happened that summer- for starters, your parents packed up theirs and your entire life and moved to a small seaside town, and among other things, you would enroll into the local school and quickly be swept up into a friend group of rambunctious boys, you would discover your love for the ocean and become intimately familiar with it over the coming months, (namely thanks to your new beachside home), and find that actually- you really loved living in this small town.

But something has to give first, and before it did, in those first few weeks during and after- it felt like hell. And your little eleven-year-old self was sure that your life was ending.

Well that might be an exaggeration- but point is; you didn’t take it very well.

It only took you about two or three days before you had gone off down the beach, crying. Your parents had repeatedly been telling you to go explore while they finished unpacking, and bitterly, you had done so. Trudging through sand in the opposite direction of town, mostly out of spite. It was windy and the sand bit at your skin, feeding woes as you went.

Back then when you had yet to spend hours upon hours walking trails through the grass over the banks and pulling sea glass treasures from the sand, wading through rock pools to reach the edge where the spray of saltwater would spring up and spit against your legs from the waves, you knew nothing about the area. And so a cave carved into an alcove only sparked the calling of curiosity and adventure as you had easily stepped down the dip of sand and into the cove. 

There was only one thing even half as interesting along the beach that late afternoon, and it was a large pod of seals dotting the beach.

What little you knew of them was from your parents brief mentions of their encounters while working as marine biologists (the reason you had moved to the coast in the first place), and while intrigued, you gave them a wide berth out of caution.

Your tears hadn’t quite dried by this point, not fully anyway, and although a few heads with big dark eyes perked up at you moving past them, none of the seals gave you heed as you went right past them and into the cave.

One thing you didn’t notice that day, was a particular seal that watched you go and tumble straight into the alcove. It gave a yip at you, but you didn’t even glance back.

Another thing you didn’t know was that your parents were already looking for you. Having checked weather reports an hour or so after you had left. But you had been out along the beach for hours at this point, and you had gone pretty far out- not to mention, it was getting late.

There was something you did notice though, and had foolishly ignored, which was the tide pushing into the mouth of the cave. All but a thin sheen of water. Your feet get wet, but you don’t give it any thought.

The sun was setting over the blue waves as you savored the sunlight, you hadn’t long until it would get fully dark, and with the clouds swirling in the sky, you would need to head back soon. Even though you wanted to stay out if only just to make your parents worry for you. Maybe then, you had thought, they’ll regret moving to this damn place.

Pushing up and down rocky ledges, you went in. The cave was dark and damp, and you pulled out your phone for the flash as you looked around wide eyed and amazed, at the end of the cavern you could see light and you pushed onwards. Eventually, the tunnel opened into a wide open space, holed up straight upwards so that you could see the sky. You wondered if it was some sinkhole from the ledge above that overhung, and mentally made plans for the next day to go and check it out from above, where you could already see the tree's canopies peeking over the edges. You’d never get to though, because it had started to rain. Little droplets of water tapped against your phone’s screen, and you huffed, wiping it over on your shirt. No reception. But even despite the rain, you weren’t yet worried. You had brought a jacket. The next hour was mostly just photographing and plucking little colorful shells from the sandy earth. In the time it took you, the rain picked up. Now pelting down and bringing a harsh chill to your bone.

A good point to head home, you had thought. But it simply wasn’t that easy. As you climbed your way back through the cave, you noticed the water runoff that ran trails through the rocks. You thought it must’ve come from the open sinkhole space from behind you until you made it to an deadend.

What had been the entrance of the cave was now blocked with a flood of still pushing and pulling water, flooded from the outside in. A complete dead-end, and you felt your heart drop.

After this, there truthfully wasn’t too much you remembered aside from the panic and the seal.

You had panicked, you had tried to get out, you had failed to get out, and had eventually found yourself curled into a ball on the cold hard ground sobbing your eyes out.

Not the most dignified reaction, but you were eleven, so there wasn’t any other reaction that you really could’ve given. And so for the second instance, your eleven-year-old self felt once more like your world was crashing down on itself. (Only you had a bit more of a valid reason for it this time around.)

You were alone in that damp dark space, crying and crying and crying, and then there was a splash, and you had startled, and then suddenly you weren’t alone. The water’s surface broke and the first thing you noticed was a sleek furry body. A seal had popped up and out of the water and the next moment was still. It watched you with deep black eyes, and you had probably cried more, (that day, there was a lot of crying), and only then it started to shuffle over towards you. 

The seal nosed at your arm, but you shuffled back a bit warily, your face wrecked with sobs and wet with tears and rain. It yipped at you, and then at that same quick moment, turned back towards the water, yipped again, and dived away. Under the blocked entrance of the cave and back into the ocean. And you were alone again. The whole interaction only took a moment, but it was one moment enough for it to bring simultaneously comfort and despair, and ever since then you had always had a bit of a soft spot for seals- all since childhood, through it, and into adulthood.

But still you cried, and cried, and cried a bit more, until the search and rescue teams found you. You were hauled up with climbing rope through the open sinkhole, and then in your parents arms you had cried more.

Later, you would come to be slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal. Especially when school had started up and peers and teachers would bring it up. Even on the rare occasion complete strangers had recognised you, usually elderly sharing their relief of your safety while you stood next to your parents, cringing. 

Later, you had asked your parents how they had found you.

And they had said that after they had gone into town and search parties of people had been sent out, a young boy had shown up. He knew where you were, and had taken them to the cave. Just older than you were, with long limbs and broad shoulders, and a wet mop of hair on top of his head. He had slipped away after the rescue team jumped into action, and no one knew who he was, nor did he ever come forward after that. He was dressed oddly, apparently. With sandals and shorts and a plain shirt. Odd because his hair was wet as if he had just gone swimming, but his clothes were completely dry. He said he was on the beach when he saw you, and no one had questioned it out of gratitude to be able to find you. The main thing that stood out to them as odd though, was the grey furry coat he wore. Too fancy and blatantly out of place to bring with you to the beach.

But as all things do, time moved on and you forgot much about the incident and earlier years from when you had first moved to the coastal town. The only real memory remaining that you were dumb to go into a cave when the tide was rising and it was storming. It was then a bit of a funny story for you to tell, and that was all it became. But you had always remembered the seal that had comforted you, and similarly, the story of the boy who had saved you.

You might have never met him, but if you got to, you had decided that you wanted to thank him for what he did that day. (Although you knew full well that the likelihood was against you.) But you knew you wouldn’t be able to find the boy with the strange coat, and so you decided that you would leave it up to fate.

Time ticked by as if stuck in honey, slowly and slowly and slower.

Today wasn’t a particularly busy workday, but in the same breath, it wasn’t particularly slow either. Because of this, it felt as if there wasn’t quite enough work to do aside from waiting for more customers to come in, gaps of time in between filled with slow cleaning and patience. It was only the start of summer, so this pacing was bound to change with an influx of imminent tourists wanting to visit beaches and see the oceanside offered by coastal towns and cities, but all the same, you were just waiting for your shift to end in hopes to head home. 

Home- or a quick detour to wherever your friends would decide to hangout today, ever changing locations between the seven of you in the indecisive way you all could be. (A few in particular, say Jungkook, Hoseok and Taehyung- but that’s not to name names. They just get a bit cooped up in the same spot.)

Scrubbing the kitchen counter for what must’ve been the fifth time in the past hour, you sighed. The last thing you wanted to do was slack off with the owner sitting just a few feet away at one of the booths tapping away at her phone. Yongsun was a lovely woman, and you might be one of the co-managers, but you still rather not chance it with a job that kept you stable for years. This little job paid well, and alongside the allowance your parents would send you from wherever on the planet they were at the moment you were decent. Not to mention, you enjoyed the environment, Yongsun was one of the nicest women you had ever met, warm and friendly, and you didn't want to get in her bad books.

When you hear the chime of the doorbell and the sound of the front door opening, you don't really bother to hide your relief at something to actually do. It’s followed by chatter and laughter as a group of customers enter together, and as the only one working on shift at the moment, you swiftly move to be in front of the register and display-cabinet of baked goods and food. Yongsun stands to greet the group cheerily, and among the group of strangers, each with a coat slung over their shoulders a-piece, you’re surprised to see two of your friends with them. The only thing they're missing is the coats themselves. 

Taehyung notices you first, sending a wave to you as he sits down in the booth and Jimin peaks over his head with a similar grin, laughing at your off guard expression. And you roll your eyes back at them.

You knew they were friendly with Yongsun, and the pair of them are very social- Jimin and Taehyung always seem to know some of the people who pass through town, especially in the summertime. While it's a bit odd to see them hanging out with strangers- you're much more used to passing hellos and warm conversations, you suppose it makes sense, they have to meet all those people somehow. Jimin has always had an extroverted streak in him, even if he never leaves town. And Taehyung is his opposite, an introverted type at first, but out of town in the off-seasons.

There’s a particular stranger that Yongsun greets that catches your eye, with a bashful expression and remarkably attractive face as Yongsun greets him with a big hug and even pinches his cheeks as if he was a child. She was clearly familiar with him, and you don’t even need to imagine the ‘ are you sure you’re eating enough, hun? that you’re sure she’s giving him, much like she does to you and every other person she likes. He looks similarly glad to see her, and you wonder distantly if he’s a son of one of her out of town friends, given you have no clue who he is. Or who any of the other strangers are sitting with them, aside from Jimin and Taehyung, of course. (It’s a small town and countryside in general. So everyone knows everybody here for the most part.)

Yongsun happily wavers you over from the counter, so you aren't left to guess when to approach them. “This is the sweet (Y/n). One of my loveliest workers here.” She smiles as you walk over, already with her menu out and listing the items the table wants. She hums, pausing and looking over towards the man from before. “Seokjinnie, what was it you wanted again?” 

“Ah, I’ll just get a muffin or something please, ahjumma.”

“Alright, chocolate chip muffin for that one, please (Y/n).”

“Of course,” you chime agreeably, finishing jotting down the order. When you look up, you accidentally meet the gaze of the ‘seokjinnie’ man that Yongsun was talking to. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something familiar about him, whether you've seen him before you’re not sure, but his fine features and beautiful black eyes draw your gaze to him and you make yourself pull away. “Is that all for today?” 

“Yes, thank you.” The man replies, his voice is polite and melodious, and it’s honestly one of the nicest sounds you’ve heard in a while. ( If that doesn’t seem too creepy, you think to yourself.) You nod with a smile and head back behind the counter, picking out the pre-made items to serve to the table before heading into the kitchen to start on anything that needs to be cooked or baked. It doesn’t take you all that long, preparing the burgers and smoothies and anything else that needs it for the group.

When you gather them all onto trays, you see out of the corner of your eye Jimin and Taehyung talking to the same man from before, and you can tell from the looks on their faces and personal experience that they were teasing the poor man, but when you walk out, their heads all snap up and Jimin and Taehyung break into laughter while the other just ducks and shakes his head. He seems a bit flustered but tells them off, you just can’t make out the words.

“Here you are.” You say chipperly as you set down the trays and they pick off their orders. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen while Jimin nudges the ‘Seokjinnie’ guy with a teasing smirk. You easily tidy up the dishes and mess you made while the group finishes up, and by the time you finish, they’re all already gathering up their things and getting ready to leave. Picking up their expensive looking fur coats and purses and bags. Save for Yongsun, Jimin and Taehyung, each of the strangers each have one of the fanciful coats. All near matching, all flat fur, all gray. Was this some sort of club? You really hope your two idiot friends and boss didn’t get mixed up with some gang. Were there even gangs out here? By the beach? At some random seaside town? You have no idea, but the fur coat gang doesn't seem too threatening, you giggle mentally.

They all migrate over to the front door, and you pick up the cutlery left behind at the table. Your shift is almost over before some other employees take over for the afternoon, and you don’t think it’s too bad to end off with some dishes. You drop them off in the sink, taking a last peek out of the kitchen at the sound of the door’s chime and catching the customers filter out. The ‘Seokjinnie’ guy is the last one left, the others having left or already walking away from the front of the store, and just as he slips through the store, you watch as his fur coat slips from being slung over his bag and lands right in the doorway, glass door catching on it as he walks off taking no notice.

You blink, and then thoughtlessly follow after and pluck the coat up from between the door, not quite impulsive but more on instinct of manners. On any normal day you would be annoyed, but there’s been something a bit off all day- a feeling as though you’re waiting for something important to happen wedged deep in your chest- but it’s not a feeling that you realize until after.

After when the sun rises in streaked rays and it seeps through the curtains, you press into the warmth of blankets and share soft whispers of words, lazing in bed and reminiscing on the moment with arms wrapped around you.

The door clicks shut behind you as you train your gaze after where he turned, searching for the soft head of hair and broad shoulders amongst the streets. Your eyes catch him easily, a standout amongst others and you take off after him in a jog. It’s your lucky day, dude. You think, You’re not gonna lose your probably expensive fur coat just yet. 

“Wait!” You call out, running after him as you tuck the soft fur of his coat safely into your arms. He doesn’t turn around, neither does he even realize that you’re addressing him. “Your coat!”

Finally, you catch up to him. In a slight flurry of panic you reach out and grasp his arm, tugging him around- it’s a little harsher than you intend, but it gets the job done. He spins around to face you with a confused expression. 

Normally you’re not the type to ever touch a stranger, mostly out of respect for personal space, (both your own and the other person), so you’re quick to yank your hand back and step away. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry for grabbing you like that!” You say, giving an apologetic look and shuffling his coat on your arm to be held out to him. “Sorry again, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that you dropped your coat.”

His eyes flicker between you and the fur coat, and his expression drops. Stunned as he wordlessly reaches his hand out and brushes it over the furry article. He looks half shocked-half mortified and you panic a little, looking over the coat yourself almost praying it isn’t damaged. You really doubt you have the money to reimburse a whole other coat for the guy if it was, and the fact that he seems close with your boss only makes it even worse. The logical side of your brain reasons that you weren’t the one who dropped it- so it’s not really your fault- but god knows that you’ve had your fair share of haughty customers over the years, so you’d rather not take your chances.

“I am so so sorry, it slipped off your bag when you left and I picked it up for you once I saw.” You ramble, dusting it off as gently as you can manage before pressing it into the man’s hands. “Is this alright? You’re not upset?”

“I- um.” His face flushes red, all the way to the tips of his ears. Cute, really you would swoon if the situation was any different. “I think. This is fine, I think.”

“Oh thank goodness, It’s not damaged or anything, but I was worried you’d run off before I could even give it back!” You chuckle softly and maybe slightly awkwardly. Finding the stare that he’s giving you a little confusing as your gaze flits up to meet his. “You walk very fast.” You say lightly, trying to dispel any tension. 

“I do- did.” He says a little dumbly, face still red as he clears his throat and straightens up. “I just wasn’t expecting this.” You raise your brows at his words, unsure what they mean.

“Well, no worries.” You smile as nicely as you can, and it seems to work, him reciprocating it as he nods. “At least you can go home with your coat safe!”

There’s a moment where neither of you say anything, him looking at you intently as he seems to swallow down any previous shyness that lingered. He speaks thoughtfully, as if contemplating; “Yes, much better this than losing it. Or someone else keeping it to themselves.” He smiles, and despite his very very odd words (in your opinion), you're not that creeped out- only the awkwardness that licks at the back of your neck any indication of discomfort. “I’ve been waiting for something like this for a while, and you actually seem quite sweet.” You shift on your feet, not knowing what else to do except smile and nod your head awkwardly. He watches you, observant to your every word and reaction, but his expression is tender and you don’t know where that came from. Your mind recalls with relief that you had left the cafe completely unattended .

“Right.” You say, pulling on your best poker face. “Well, my shift isn’t quite over yet, so I’d best be getting back.” He seems to pull out of a daze at your words, and you try to ignore that it makes you feel a bit bad for him. “Um, good luck! Have a good afternoon!” As you turn and speed walk back towards the cafe, you can feel his gaze on your back. You don’t look around at him, but once you push open the glass doors of the store you can’t help but almost want to peek back out to look for him. Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe you thought he was hot (you did), maybe you’re a bit paranoid- but whichever one it is you stubbornly shove it down and trudge back into the kitchen, sighing deeply as your brain runs over the interaction and the man’s strange words. Well, that was odd . You think, and you really have no idea where the weird words and such came from, but at the very least, you’ve got something funny to tell your friends later on . 

But Goddamnit, Jimin and Taehyung were absolutely going to laugh at you.

The first thing you did once your shift ended and a coworker took over for you, was grab your bag and check your phone. It lit up with a text message from Hoseok, his contact followed by random emojis he had put in years ago when he first took your phone to give you his number.

‘Meetup at the studio after work? The others are coming :D’

A huff of amusement left you as you unlocked your phone and typed a message back.

‘Definitely, wouldn’t miss it, Hobi. Also I've got a funny story to tell you guys lol.’

‘Ookk, but just hurry though 'cause Jungkook keeps complaining that he’s hungry and you know how that goes.’ 

You roll your eyes, typing; ‘That boy is always hungry. But yeah, be there in ten.’ 

You giggle a little at the string of strange emojis Hoseok sends in response before tucking your phone into your back pocket as you speed walk down the streets. You couldn’t have been more eager to get out of there after working most of the day. It isn’t long until you get down to the studio, and you step and round down the hall past the receptionist, (a friendly girl who had been working there for a few months) as you head right towards the studio room you know Hoseok usually works at. Through the glass doors you can see all the boys sitting around- and Jungkook, who was leaning against the wall next to the door, pulls it open for you before you even manage to grab the handle. 

“(Y/n)! How was work? Hobi says you’ve got another one of those funny customer stories to tell us again.” He grins at you, and clicks the door shut behind you before you respond. There’s some takeout containers and burgers sitting around, Jungkook's got one in his hand, and you would take a guess he convinced somebody to make an ‘emergency call’ for him. 

Jimin chimes up from one of the benches. “Yeah, and why didn’t you tell us before when we were there?” 

“She was working, jimin.” Yoongi says reasonably, shrugging lightly. And my boss was there , you go to say, but jimin beats you to it.

“Yeah, but I would’ve stayed behind if I knew there was drama.” He defends jokingly, turning a teasing smile over towards you. “Yongsun wouldn’t have minded, you know. She knows we’re friends. I mean, after all the times me and Tae have camped out waiting for your shifts to finish in booths, and the fact she asks us how you’re doing everytime we speak, I'd say you're even her favorite employee.” 

“It happened after you guys left.” You explain, sitting down next to Hoseok who wavers you over as you set your bag down. “And it’s not drama but I still don’t want to get any grief over this. Tae, Jimin, I’m talking to you two.”

“Huh?” Taehyung echoes, his head flicking up from his phone that was scrolling on distractedly. He gives you a befuddled expression when you look at him pointedly. “What’d I do?”

“One of the people you were with.” You say, sighing dramatically. “Some poor guy dropped his jacket and so I had to run it to him. It was pretty awkward.”

Namjoon shakes his head at you sympathetically, laughing a little bit. “That’s not that bad.” He says, but you huff protest. And no one notices, but Jimin and Taehyung both stiffen up. Their heads snapping over towards you and sitting up alert.

“What?” Taehyung says, unable to help the sharp tone that he uses. Yoongi and Namjoon both raise a brow, aware of the change of mood, and Jungkook glances over at them. Hobi doesn’t notice it.

“Aw man, I was hoping for something like that one time that kid tripped on someone’s foot and spilled a smoothie all over you.” Hoseok complains with a mischievous smile as he lays across the floor, “that was pretty funny. You had a huuge pink stain over your new fancy shirt all day.”

“That was miserable.” You grimace.

“It was funny as shit.” 

“ lHold on - you gave who back his jacket ?” Taehyung speaks up again, cutting off Hoseok and your banter with an edge of urgency to his voice that makes you pause. You look over at him frowning, and he looks a mix of disturbed and worried that only makes you confused. You gave his coat back , so why would he need to be worried? It wasn’t like it was damaged or anything. 

“The guy you were teasing. I gave him back his furry coat when he dropped it.” 

Taehyung’s jaw drops and Jimin shoots a glare at him, kicking him in the leg. He clears his throat, “Did you give it to him or like, point it out and tell him he dropped it?” He seems less concerned then taehyung does, but still so- from his more good natured smile compared to Taehyung's tense demeanor, it relaxes you slightly, but you can still see the uncertainty behind his eyes that makes your stomach churn uneasily. You flicker your gaze between the two incredulously. The others all watch.

“I gave it to him. It slipped from his bag and he didn’t notice. I had to stop him in the street to give it back.” You say, furrowing your brows. Jimin and Taehyung share a look. 

Namjoon breaks in, apparently having enough of the random tension in the conversation. “Okay, why are you two being so cryptic?” he waves his hands gently, looking between you and the other two. “What else was she supposed to do? Let the dude lose his coat?”

“Well- no?” Taehyung splutters slightly, choking on his words. “just- was it Seokjin?”

“Seokjin?” You echo, confused. 

Yoongi passes an eye over the three of you calmly. “Jimin, not all of us are extroverts and know all the random people who pass through town.” He says, the small joke eases some of the rising confusion from the group. He sends a small grin at him, and Jungkook makes an affronted noise at his words.

“We know taehyung! And you!” 

“That’s different.” Yoongi rebutts immediately.

“Yeah, they both grew up here.” Namjoon adds, leaning back and glad to jump on an opportunity to change the subject. 

“Yoongi goes to the city for work for like a week every month! I don’t see how that’s so different!” Jungkook says, shaking his head with a determined expression. “And Taehyung sticks around for summer, sure, but he only visits otherwise.” 

Hoseok gives a hearty laugh, and Jungkook grins at him. “Yoongi literally lives here.” He snorts, and Yoongi nods his head along.

“Yep. So don’t know what you’re on about, kid.”

“Sure you don’t, old man.” Jungkook says with accusation, pointing a finger towards Yoongi, who just rolls his eyes with a smug look. 

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

Jungkook scrunches up his face, cringing. “Ugh, I’ve always hated that word-“ He’s cut off the crack of a phone clattering to the floor and everyone glances over again, Taehyung giving a little mutter of shit as he hastily stuffs it into his bag. 

“Tae? You good?” Hoseok asks. But Taehyung just shuffles awkwardly under the scrutiny of everyone, his gaze flickers from Hoseok, to Jimin, and then to you. You’re a little worried you upset him, but you have no idea how.

“Uhh, something came up so- i’ve gotta go.” Taehyung’s words sound a little forced and his demeanor is stiff, and after all of you having known each other for years at this point, some longer then others, you all raise a brow. It’s pretty obvious he’s making an excuse to go. Which is odd. “Sorry guys.” He says for good measure. 

Taehyung would normally be the last to go, always eager to spend as much time with his close friends whenever possible. He didn’t live full time in town, mainly staying for the summer and then occasionally a little bit after, but never too long. There were occasional visits, but other than that, you all didn’t get to see him much. So his behavior is particularly striking as weird. 

Guilt stirs in your chest, an uncomfortable pressure. Was it the coat thing? You sure hope not. You wonder distantly why it would, but struggle to come up with a realistic answer. You wouldn’t have thought that something so minuscule like that would upset him, or really anyone for that matter. The idea of giving a coat back to someone after they dropped it doesn’t strike you as anything negative, heck, you’d be glad if someone chased your own coat out to you if you had dropped it. Was there something earlier that happened that you missed? Did you say anything else that could’ve been rude? You didn’t think you did, but now you weren’t so sure. Really you were expecting to be teased about it somewhat- but something about Jimin and Taehyung’s reaction has you thinking that there’s more to it then they’re saying out loud, and the thought that you might have upset one of them makes you frown.

“No worries, Tae. It’s fine.” Jungkook is the first to break the few second silence that came over the group, smiling supportively at Taehyung. 

Hoseok chimes in, “Yeah, don’t stress.”

Namjoon speaks up next, “We all get busy. So no worries if you gotta leave on short notice.” he says sagely, “Happens to all of us.”

Taehyung stands there for a moment, like he didn’t quite expect everyone to jump in and dispel the unease lingering in the air. “Yeah, sorry.” He finally says, once more looking over to you in a quick glance. It just makes you feel worse. “um, see you guys.”

There’s a small chorus of byes as Taehyung takes his bag and leaves, waving as he slips out the door. All the boys and you watch silently as he goes, slight degrees of concern or confusion on your faces. It only takes a second before everyone breaks back into conversation, but whatever they’re talking about, you don’t listen, attention fixed on the door where Taehyung had left through as a mixture of confusion and guilt churns in your stomach. Weird, this is all quite weird . But you have a distinct feeling that you might’ve done something to set Taehyung off- you’ve never really seen him run off like that. 

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you turn to Jimin who’s leaned forward towards you and smiles with sympathy.

“Sorry for the fuss, don’t worry too much- you haven’t done anything wrong, so try to ignore us, okay?” He says reassuringly, his voice low enough to not gather the others attention. You guess that he probably doesn’t want to embarrass you. “I’ll talk to you more about it later, and I’ll explain some things.” Jimin promises, and there’s an odd tinge of determination to his tone.

You don’t really know what to think of it.

“Okay.” You say, it’s a little dejected and Jimin almost winces at the look on your face. Taehyung will feel bad later, for running off and leaving you to stew. But you guys have been friends for years, so Jimin isn’t particularly worried this will drive a wedge between you two or something. 

If anything, he’s hopeful that this will mean new beginnings, once the tide clears up. Not between you and Taehyung, nor you and him, but something new entirely. 

He has a feeling it could work out, and he’s always had a bit of a sense for those things.

“Seriously, you haven’t done anything. I’m sorry for interrogating you, neither of us are mad at you- we just gotta make some calls and sort things out.” You snort a little at his phrasing, feeling a bit better about the whole thing. 

“Okay then, I trust you.” You concede, “but geez, the way you say it makes it sound like you’re in some mafia group or something. Top secret business.”

Jimin grins, leaning back as lightly as he winks. “Yep, gotta make sure that it’s not classified information.” 

Though, it’s not far from the truth.

He gives you a small pat on the shoulder and grabs his things, “I’m going to go too guys, so don’t have too much fun without me.” Jimin announces, stretching quickly as he steps around those who are sat on the floor. “I’ll see you later.” He throws a smile over his shoulder towards you, and you smile back. Then the next moment he’s gone, and you wonder if you really don’t need to worry about him and Taehyung, or if his words are just that, words.

Hoseok nudges his shoulder against yours, reeling you back in. “You good?” 

You nod your head, but it feels disingenuous. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Namjoon eyes you, ever observant as he is. “Don’t worry about Taehyung, I don’t think he’s mad or anything.” He says heartedly, and you hum in response. It’s an undecided action, but you bite your lip and pull your bag into your lap. 

You’re a bit tired from the long shift at work, and you don’t feel quite as chatty as you did before, so you decide that maybe it’s time for you to call it a day and head home.

With quick goodbyes and more than one watchful glance in your direction, you slip through the  door and out onto the streets. 

With the day reaching late afternoon, after your exceedingly long shift at the café, a strange customer service interaction with the coat guy, and two of your best friends near freaking out when you recount it to them, you finally head home in hopes to finally catch a break.

Your brain runs loops in your head, juggling between convincing you that you’re the only one making all these things seem weird, and then convincing you that no, all the shit that’s happened today is quite in fact weird, and you’re justified in your opinion of it. Admittedly, you even ponder on whether you could’ve possibly broken some unspoken rule that you’ve never heard off- although you write that off pretty quickly.

Sure, you weren’t born here, but if something was that important, you realistically would have learnt it by now. It wasn’t like your upbringing was that different to anybody else after you moved here. You went to the same old school that every other kid in town did, chasing circles around each other in the schoolyard and pulling fistfuls of grass from the ground when not, reaching over and scribbling smiley faces onto worksheets and crowding around in clusters whenever anything even remotely interesting had happened. You all spent summers visiting the big orchard above town, helping out the old woman who lives up there with her granddaughter by plucking fruits from the trees and berries from the bushes, each of you bringing a big bag full of spoils home, smiling excitedly as you would ramble to your parents about your day and whichever kid inevitably decided to try some kind of stunt to impress all the others (which usually ended up with some bruises and an icepack, the worst you had seen was when some boy broke a pinkie.) You all spent afternoons kicking up sand on the beach and splashing in the waves, only in the colder months did you recede away from it, playing in the town’s streets instead of grainy sand.

Even as you got older, you never gravitated away from the friendships you formed back then. You’re still friends with plenty of the girls you used to go to school with, and you’re naturally still close with most of the boys too. Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, and of course Jimin and Taehyung.

Unfortunately, you have plenty of time to think on the way, considering that your house lays just a touch out of town. 

It's only about an eight minute walk down the road to get there, so you never bother driving. Not to mention, there are plenty of people who live further out so you’re not going to complain either. Your home, which you have affectionately called it so for almost fifteen years now, is a modest place that sits by the beach. Three bedrooms, one bathroom, living-room, laundry room and kitchen. Technically, one of the bedrooms is a converted home office turned storage room in your lack of necessity for it. Since both your parents moved out shortly after your twentieth birthday for their job, it left you with an office you honestly didn’t really need. Then again, considering that both your parents had only moved to this town because of their job, it makes sense that they’d move away because of it too. Being marine biologists isn’t very stationary- you learned that pretty young when they would have to travel for a week or two almost every month. 

It’s lucky you love the beach. Otherwise you might’ve gone a bit insane after a few years. 

It’s easy for you to admire the waves push and pull along the sand, the crashing of it and the constant trull. You particularly love the summers, as it is now- because that’s when the seals show up.

Seals are your favorite marine mammals, and probably just your favorite animal overall. It always brings a smile to your face when you come across photos online of their thick whiskers and big black eyes. Even better when you get to see the pods of seals littering the beaches or peeking up from the waters, which much to your delight, you happen to see today. 

There’s not that many this time, but there’s about ten or so lazing on the beach, taking in the afternoon sun. There are a few more between the waves, and you’d assume more further out in the ocean. It’s a happy distraction, and your lips tug into an involuntary smile as trudge down the path past them. There’s one particular seal however, that grabs your attention among all of them. It’s the farthest up the beach and the closest to you, (which is a little odd- they usually stay pretty close to their pods) but it’s staring right at you and you stare right back. Your house is literally only a minute ahead, you can see it just in front of you and while that should probably be the most interesting thing that you pay attention to, you find you have no interest in it.

Maybe it’s a seal you’ve seen before, but you doubt that it would capture your attention so much. There’s just something about the deep black eyes and the dried sleek coat that strikes you as familiar and pulls at the seams of your brain. The mammal stares at you with wide eyes and it looks almost puppyish, which makes you smile wide with a huffed laugh. If possible, the animal seems surprised at your reaction and pulls its head back a bit. You can’t help but giggle a bit, awww chorusing in your mind as you refocus your attention on the path that veers away from the beach and up to your front yard. 

You jostle your bag on your arm as you produce a key from it and throw a glance over your shoulder back down to the beach. You can see sat on top of the backshore dune the seal from before watching you just as you push open your front door. It’s completely on a whim that you do it, but you randomly decide to give a parting wave to the seal. You weren’t expecting any reaction, but it turns tail and waddle-runs it’s way back toward the ocean. Oh, I scared it off. You’re not sure why, but it leaves you with a slight sense of disappointment as you drop your bag to the ground and pad off towards your bedroom.

With sluggish movements, you barely shrug off your day clothes and take a shower, before pulling on pajamas. You slide under your bedsheets with hopes to drown under the pull of sleep. Today’s strangeness will be gone tomorrow is the only distant thought you let linger as you drift off, comforting and convincing, leaving you fully intent on waking up tomorrow and forgetting most of todays events and letting normalcy take over. Once you wake up the next day, it seems to be near true. You go through the motions of your average morning routine, brain blurry and slow with sleep and yesterday pushed to the back of your brain for the most part. It’s mind numbing enough and really, you’re glad for it.

Then you push open your front door, and you’re greeted with the sight of little ocean gifts settled at your feet on your front porch.

And you think that maybe the strangeness that you experienced yesterday was only the start.

Masterlist / Next chapter

[catsushizz]

Love me until I love myself - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: Spencer got used to his life consisting of books and the BAU he had never truly viewed the prospect of love but when you came it all just clicked.

Warning: no use of y/n

Fluff

WC: 1.1k

----

Spencer got used to waking up with an empty bed beside him and it never crossed his mind that it made him feel lonely or sad it just felt natural. His apartment is quiet and he never noticed that his eyes grow somber as the day passes, it's unnoticeable, subtle but there.

He was in a state where no one knew what was going on with his life but he'd like to think that his life was a mere touch of tranquility whenever there was no phone going off every second of the day.

But a single touch of color changed how he perceived life and gradually he found himself falling in love. It's like the cosmic collided when you first talked to him and from there on public libraries became his solace everything you like became his safe space, benches in the park, the car that you take road trips in, the Lumineers, and your favorite cafe. You were the color that was missing from his blank canvas, no matter how rough he was, you smoothened the edges of his life.

You were the subject of his poems, the muse of his dreams, and the bearer of his heart. Tangled in a sea of messy sheets, your hands draped over his torso, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and for the first time, he was terrified of waking up alone.

His eyes flutter open and search for you and when they land on your sleeping figure he can feel his heart palpitate in adoration. The ever-growing branches of his life continued to grow but were now accompanied by the leaves that were growing between the crevice of his broken branches.

Your touch was addicting, your fingertips would explore every inch of his body. He notices when your finger brushes against his scars you massage patterns with precision and he feels like his heart could burst, he loves you so much it hurts.

He can't even imagine the storm taking you away from him, he would suffer an endless flood if that were to happen.

He loves how you glow so effortlessly under the scrutiny of the sun or the way you hold his hands whenever you feel like he needs it but he especially loves the fact that you love him despite his flaws. There are nights when you fought so loudly and exchanged some hurtful words, and he remembered how much he wanted to take it back but you weren't perfect either and that molded you both together so perfectly that not even the afterglow can rival it.

Spencer never really quite grasped the concept of life solely because he didn't know if he was choosing the right path and it keeps him up at night, what if he chose a different path and completely risked not meeting you? he would rather die, you were cuddled up with him on the couch watching documentaries when he blurted out his concerns, but your sentiments deemed his thoughts.

"I think no matter what path you choose, it will always lead to us, our souls are intertwined, and it's carved in our hearts. There's a possibility that there's a chance for us to meet again in another lifetime I think I will recognize you, purely because I'm sure our souls left remnants of our past lives to help us remember how much we truly loved each other," you whispered, as you ran your fingers through his unruly hair.

His heart skipped a beat, you still make him feel that way despite his youth withering each day, you make him feel young.

"I love you, you're the best thing life has given me" he tried his best to keep his voice stable but it wobbled and you chuckled lightly.

"You know I love you more" You wiggle your brows at him with a grin. He laughed and pulled you impossibly close.

"But I love you most" he replied and you groaned burying yourself in the crook of his neck.

"we're not gonna bicker about this again, let's just say we love each other so much that time can't measure it" you murmured as you kissed the crook of his neck, he giggled at the contact of your kiss making you subconsciously smile.

"But I love you more than everything though" he teased.

"Don't you dare quote Beautiful Boy to me right now" you sternly said and he laughed. Oh, his life was different now but different in a way where you crave for it to last forever.

His broken parts where he learns to hate, you learned to love, and the things you hate about yourself he came to adore. Spencer always felt like an extra piece in a puzzle but turns out you were too, both of you stand out in the best way possible, and to the ends of the earth, he will follow you, his life in the BAU be damned.

If ever old age has its way of finding him then all the light in the world may cease to exist. Time can consume so much in a person, that Spencer wasn't sure if he liked it but growing old with you was a different story.

He'll live and tell a story of how much he loved a single girl who completely changed his life, even if his hand trembles in every movement he makes, and even if his memory fades he'll hold on to you so deep in his heart until his next life where he gets to hold you again.

The theory of everything started when you met and ended when his skin gradually changed and how his wrinkles deepened until he was one with nature.

Buried next to each other as both of you wished, your children visit the sacred place with their kids and then they'll tell the story of how both of you fell in love and they'll add how much the both of you loved your children.

----

You were running late, coffee in hand and it happened so fast that you didn't even notice that he was there. You collided with someone your coffee spilling on the man's shirt and your eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed as you rushed to get the tissues out of your bag to help him.

"Hey, it's fine" came his calm yet familiar voice. Sensing that he was looking at you, you averted your gaze to meet his eyes and you felt the world suddenly stop.

He has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen and his brown curly hair added charm to his chiseled face. He looked familiar you're sure of it, and without you knowing, he felt the same way too.

"Hi," he softly whispered stuck in a daze as he looked at you.

You let out an airy chuckle "I'm sorry, do I know you?" You asked.

So the cycle starts again.

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : established relationship ; reader and Seungmin have only been dating for like 3 months ; Seungmin is a sweetie ; slight angst but mainly fluff ; Word Count : 1.7k Request : L ☆ : I was wondering if you could pleaseee do something fluff and sweet (just like him) with seungmin idk if you want to throw some angst in there, is up to you. thank u very much. A/N : slowly but surely making my way through requests! I got an offer for a job interview (at the time that I was writing this, I'm sure that I'll post about it before this comes out though) I'm so excited though!!

“I want to take you on a date…” Seungmin muttered through the phone, his voice quiet as if he were trying to hide it from the other guys that he was the sweetest, cutest, softest boyfriend in the whole world. “I’ll pick you up tonight. Make sure you bring a jacket, it’s cold.” He finished the call rather swiftly, and you were used to calls going like this, it made it easier for you, especially since you couldn’t get enough of his voice and your mind would always go fuzzy whenever you listened to him. 

As soon as you were sure that the call had ended and the line was disconnected, you allowed yourself a moment to let out a squeal of excitement, clutching your phone to your chest and jumping around in the center of your apartment. Some people would say that you were overly excited considering he and you had been dating for 3 months already, but you on the other hand found no issue in feeling like every date was like the first date. It just meant that you liked him, and you hoped that he felt the same way. 

///

“Dinner was nice, thank you.” You whispered as you walked beside Seungmin. The sidewalks were busy, lined with other couples who had the same idea. You kept close to him though, your fingers practically brushing along one anothers, but they never latched together. 

“Mmhm…” He hummed back, glancing down at you and then straight forward once again. Sometimes it felt like he was getting tired or bored, but you’d calm that thought just as fast as it appeared, reminding yourself constantly that he chose you, and if he didn’t truly enjoy being with you he could leave whenever he wanted. “Are you cold?” He asked when he felt your body shiver, a particularly strong gust of wind making its way through the fabric of your coat. “We can get hot cocoa?” 

“Mm… I’d like that.” You smiled sweetly up at him, unaware that he had been looking down at you again until your eyes met, and you saw the blush on his cheeks darken, although you were sure he’d blame it on the chill.

Seungmin nodded, leading the way to the cafe, making sure to still stay close to you though as the streets seemed to become more and more crowded. “Do you want to sit inside?” He asked when you both finally got to the small building, which hadn’t been that far, but in the sea of people it seemed to take forever to get there. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice was so soft, he had to lean in closer just to hear you, the proximity had you both heating up and Seungmin quickly pulling away as he obviously tried to hide the smile that was pulling at the corners of his lips. “I can order the drinks while you find a table?” You offered, but he shook his head, sending you a knowing smile.

“I invited you on this date, I’m paying for the drinks. Go find the table.” He motioned towards the empty booth at the back of the cafe, and if there was one thing you knew, it was to not try to argue against him, you’d never win. It wasn’t from personal experience, but the other guys had filled your ears with many stories. So you made your way over, shimmying out of your coat and playing it beside you before sliding into the booth and watching Seungmin make his way up to the counter. 

As he made his way over to the table, you could see that his eyes weren’t on you, not that you minded, you didn’t want him staring at you, but it’s like his focus was on something else completely. When you followed the direction of his gaze, you saw that it was perfectly pointed at a girl at the table that was right beside yours. She was gorgeous, and while you weren’t usually the type to be self conscious, you couldn’t help but feel that way when you looked at her. She was there with her boyfriend, but Seungmin was definitely one of the most attractive guys you had found yourself lucky to date. That and he was an idol, you were sure that if given the opportunity, any woman would jump at the chance to be with him. 

“Be careful… It’s hot…” He said a little too quietly, it was more like a mumble, like his mind was stuck in some faraway land while his body was unfortunately at the table in this cafe with you. It felt like he was uninterested, he might as well just pull out his eyes and place them at the table with the other girl since he couldn’t seem to look away from her. 

“I can go…” You mumbled, your head lowering to try to hide the embarrassment that you knew was clearly written across your face. Truthfully, you didn’t want it to be a suggestion, you wanted to leave. There was no one in their right mind that would enjoy sitting across the table from their significant other who couldn’t keep their eyes off someone else. Maybe this was his way of telling you that he wanted to see other people, he was just doing it in the most literal way possible. 

“Huh?” He slowly turned to look at you, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrow’s furrowing. “Why?” The fact that he could still act so clueless, like he didn’t know the exact reason for you wanting to leave, was just a little bit agitating. “Do you want to go? I can walk you back to your place… I just thought that you’d want to spend a little longer together.” His eyes were now burning into the top of your head that had been lowered with embarrassment. 

“I… I don’t want to spend time with someone who just wants to look at other women.” Your voice was quiet, far too quiet, and you wondered if Seungmin had even heard you over the music that was playing over the speakers. “If that’s what you want to do, fine… But… Don’t invite me out on a date and do it.” You hated how weak you sounded when you called him out, it definitely didn’t sound as strong as you wanted it to. You probably sounded just as pathetic as you felt right now. 

There was a silence that filled the small bubble that seemed to surround the table that you both were sitting at. It was tension filled, and you felt queasy just from being in it a little bit too long. “What are you talking about?” He asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as yours was, but his worrying had his voice cracking and rising in pitch, causing him to be louder than he wanted to be. “I’m… God, this is stupid…” He muttered, running his hand through his hair as he leaned back in his chair, his head tilted back far enough to stare up at the ceiling. 

“It is stupid…” You agreed, grabbing your coat and folding it over your elbow as you got up from the table, unbothered by the nighttime chill that you knew would be just outside the cafe doors. You were already heated enough, you felt like you were sweating. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Seungmin.” You gave him the parting words, trying to sound unfazed, but the lump in your throat was building and it felt like your air was being choked off. 

Seungmin wasn’t one to make a scene, and that’s the only reason he didn’t get up and grab your hand to pull you back. He wasn’t into PDA, he wasn’t one to really outwardly show his emotions in general, but watching you walk away had him panicking. “Dammit!” He hissed, grabbing both cups of hot cocoa and rushing out the door after you, trying his best not to spill them in the process. “Can you listen to me, please?” 

He had caught up with you, it didn’t even take him long, he was far better at navigating through large groups of people than you were. Sadly, he had caught you at a moment when it had been just long enough for you to have started crying. “I don’t want to hear about how pretty she was. I know how pretty she was. I know that I can’t be her, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have to be seen with me and not someone as gorgeous and perfect as she was.” 

His eyes were blinking rapidly as he stared at you, his mouth agape, sharp breaths coming out in little tufts of smoke in the cold winter air. “Oh… No… No! That’s… You’re wrong.” He said, his head shaking as the words rushed out of his mouth. “I’m stupid… And I didn’t want to tell you because it’s embarrassing… I wanted you to think I was cool and… And I… I was looking because I wanted to know what to do.” Now it was your turn to be confused, your eyebrows lowering as you waited for him to explain further what the hell it was that he meant by that. “I’m not… good. I’m not good at dates, I’m not good at this…” He motioned between the two of you, sighing dejectedly, his entire body seeming to hunch forward with shame. “I just wanted to do it right… I thought if I watched them I could figure out how to make you smile and laugh and be happy the way she was with her boyfriend.” 

“Minnie…” You whispered out the little pet name that always flustered him when you used it, and this time was no different, his cheeks once again turning a light shade of pink when you said it. “You don’t have to study how other couples are on their dates. You don’t have to be like other guys… If I wanted you to be like them, I would just be with them. I like being with you though, because you do make me happy and you make me laugh and you make me smile. You’re perfect… That’s why I was so worried… I don’t want to lose you…” 

“And you won’t… You’re not.” He reassured you quickly, like his entire life depended on those words leaving his mouth and being heard by you. “I’m sorry I made you worry… I’m sorry I was so stupid… Can we continue our date now? I really wanted to spend more time with you… If you’d like. It’s up to you though.” 

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[deadghosy]

Vlogger! Mattheo x Editor! Reader pt.1/pt.2

“Welcome to my vlog! Today we are metting up with my editor Y/N…I’m kinda nervous because what if they’re a weirdo or something....” he says as he drives over to the cafe you picked out to met him. As he pulls over he grabs the camera and walks over to a table you ordered. As he waits he sees a figure walk over, immediately he felt his throat go dry at the gorgeous person in front of him. They were wearing an [aesthetic] outfit as they wave at the blogger who seems smitten.

“Wassup Matty! It’s me, Y/N!” You said with an excited grin. Immediately Mattheo got into a proper sitting posture and shook your hand. “Hey! I’m mattheo!” He says nervously. But as soon as he realized what he said you laughed. “I know who you are man.” You say in front of him. You guys start to order as he kept looking at you, which the camera definitely picked up as his eyes were gazing at your face only. He can’t believe he had the best editor ever, mostly that his editor was fine as hell as well. He was so stuck on staring at you, he almost didn’t hear what you were saying

“Honestly, I can’t believe I’m hanging out with the infamous mattheo riddle. I bet your fan girls are seething right as of now.” Matthew laughs at your joke as he sets the camera up where it picks up the both of you. “Eh, probably not. They probably are thirsting over you.” He says with his charming smile. You smirked drinking your water. “Hm. Isn’t that right ladies?” You then winked at the camera which earned another laugh from Mattheo.

“So, you’ll be staying for a week right?” You nodded eating a burrito. Mattheo smiled, but he couldn’t help but take a picture of you eating a burrito. “Heyy! I saw that!” You laughed as you try to take a picture of him eating a sandwich. “Ain’t no way!” He then grabs your phone making you chuckle. The lunch was amusing as mattheo offered to drive you to his place. You had Uber to the lunch spot, so why not do the favor of making you save money.

You got in the car and immediately started playing some sza which got the two in mood to sing. His eyes showed admiration as you sang your heart at snooze. “I can’t lose! When I’m with youuuu!” You sang as you touched mattheo’s shoulder. Mattheo grinned, his teeth showing as he to his house. As he parked your mouth was dropped at how big his house was.

And this is where you are going to stay at for a week.

Day 1, you had edited the video he made. You laughed when he said he was scared that you were gonna be a weirdo. But what was more funny was that you noticed how much mattheo glances at you. It’s adorable, his eyes tell a story every time they glance at you. As you finished editing, mattheo paid a pizza guy and brought pizza in. “Hey! [N/N] I bought us some pizza. Grab you a slice.” “Bet!” It was a cool pizza night.

Day 3, mattheo was vlogging as you two were at the beach. Mattheo wearing green trunks, as you wore your own beach outfit. “Guys look at my hot editor picking up sea shells.” He says as the camera zooms on you from afar picking up shells. “Aren’t they just beautiful.” His voice was soft, as his eyes was hidden behind his shades. “Matty!” You ran over to him, accidentally running into him as the sand was very shifty. “Hey, slow down!” He says with a smile, almost dropping his camera. One arm was around you as the other was afar with the camera. Capturing the moment of you against the Riddle man. “Sorry, but look at these sea shells I found! So pretty..” You were excited to show him as you counted them. “Yeah they are..” his eyes softened, looking at you behind his shades.

Day 5, you were laying beside mattheo who was slowly falling asleep by you combing his hair with your fingers. He hummed a little before hugging your waist, his head in your lap. You smiled before frowning. You have two days before you leave and you already love it here…with him..

The last day, it was sad for mattheo and you. As you packed your stuff mattheo was making a small little vlog video of himself. “So today Y/N is leaving back to their hometown…me and them have bonded a lot over this week..and I must say ima miss them a lot.” He says looking at the camera as he gets up walking to the room you had. “Hey, you down packing?” He says as the camera zooms onto you. “Yeah boss, it’s done.” You laughed but it was clear you were upset. You were upset you had to leave mattheo. “Hm..ima miss you.” “I’ll miss you too..” you got up, ready to leave as your Uber was here. As you walked pass him, he had the urged to just grab you, kiss you and make you stay longer. But he can’t risk that. He just follows you as the camera is cut off. But soon as you almost exit the front door, he grabbed your wrist. Making you snap your head at him.

“You can stay with me..” Mattheo says holding your arm. You raised a brow, looking at him softly. “You know that means I have to get my stuff from my home town right?” Mattheo nods. “I can help you..as long as you stay with me of course. If you want!” He lets go of your arm quickly, making you smile. “Of course I’ll stay with you.” You the kiss his cheek as you walk from his porch. Mattheo’s cheeks were a dusty pink as he smiled at the fainting figure. As he was about to go back in his house he heard you yell. “Can’t wait to edit all the love gazes you gave me!” Immediately the man was even more whipped for you

[yuri-is-online]

I love your one sided Floyd vs Ace thing because Ace is just trying to play wingman from the background so Yuu will stop talking about how Floyd's "Such a sweet boy!", like he didn't just try to take Aces head off during practice. And "He visited my class today" , yeah perfect, Floyd visited him today too. For very differnt reasons though. or "He just helped me dye my hair! Doesn't it look good?". It does but that's besides the point.

Bro Floyd is pining SO HARD rn it's not even funny anymore! He's always lost in fantasies but they're not even the hot kind! No, he's daydreaming about holding Yuus hand and going to that one really cute Cafe in Port city that Yuu always calls a "French Cafe". He doesn't know what the hell a French is but you know what! Calling it that makes you happy so that Cafe is French! He wants that excuse to come find you whenever he wants a nap and fall asleep in your lap as you pet him to sleep, and no one can even say shit about cause like! You'd be together.

But he thinks that Ace is trying to get together with Yuu and that just puts his mood way below the poverty line. HES NOT. HE SWEARS HES NOT. ACE JUST WANTS TO TEASE YUU FOR THEIR STUPID GROSS CRUSH NOT BE CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF IT!

AlsoYuuisthepervertintherelationshipthankyouforcomingtomyTEDtalk

ah confused the ducky you. you always see my floyd visions so clearly, i am so happy

I like Ace's relationship with Yuu in pretty much all flavors, when I'm writing floydyuu I think of Ace as the self appointed mom friend/older brother. He likes the feeling of power and responsibility he gets from it since he's used to being the baby of the family. Floyd thinks that little shrimpy is funny and cute at first, someone he could chase around similar to Riddle.

But then they beat Azul. They beat Azul by annoying Sea Lion, who constantly ignores and mocks his attempts to fight him. They got under his skin, that's just on a different level. He's paying close attention now, and he likes what he sees. At first it's exciting, he likes new things and these feelings are certainly new. But it also makes him notice little things. Like how much closer you are to Crabby than you are to him. The jealousy just eats him up because he feels like he shouldn't be? Crabby kind of sucks? He's seen how his color changing magic is, he can't imagine he'd be a better option than him. But shrimpy giggles at his jokes and spends almost all their free time with him. He hates it, and it's starting to effect his... not quite but yeah kind of friendship with Crabby.

Meanwhile Yuu is savoring any sort of contact they can get with him. I love the hair dye suggestion, Floyd says he'll give you one color but really he just wants an excuse to put a streak of teal where his swoop would be on your head. He's too much of a coward to do it, going with whatever you request instead and how happy you are makes it almost worth it until you babble about how you'll have to show your friends how cool it is and what a good job he did. He makes a point of visiting Ace intending to threaten him but he ends up just whining about how he doesn't know how to get through to you, and asking if Ace knows anything about what a "french" is (he thinks it's a dessert) before he lapses into the silence of daydream while Ace wonders if it would be worth it to get Jamil involved.

Yuu gets the perv title for being into a literal fish on top ha of going along with whatever Floyd comes up with. Please do not underestimate his imagination he can be quite filthy when he wants to be, he's just being a good boy and only thinking about extramarital h*nd h*lding for now (•̀⤙•́ )

[mrchiipchrome]

Valerie

W.C. - 1,1 k

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

The sand is warm between your toes, eyes reflecting the bright warmth of the setting sun, orange like the hair of the girl in the cafe. The waves of the sea shine as they crash against the stones of the beach, in your slightly intoxicated state, you can’t help but wonder what she’s doing. 

The woman with flames for hair and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Your mind makes up many different scenarios, all centered around her, painting thousands of pictures of her enchanting locks and enticing eyes.

She’d been on your mind ever since you visited that coffee shop in Manchester, the one tucked away in the most intricate alleyway. It was like she commanded all the attention to be pointed at her, seemingly unknowing.

The fair skinned beauty caught your fixated eyes on her for a second before she turned back to her friends situated beside her. Yet, your eyes never faltered from her form, witnessing her laugh at something they said. 

Unknowingly to you, you’d caught her eye too. The accented English slipping out of your mouth uncomfortably, it intrigued her. She hadn’t even noticed that her eyes were glued to you until she saw your gorgeous eyes and cheeky smile. 

She had you hooked from the moment you first saw her. 

By the time you’d finished your cup of coffee, the two of you had exchanged multiple glances, shy smiles gracing your faces. 

You didn’t even notice when she dropped into the chair in front of yours, only when she cleared her throat did you look up. Her hands were folded before her, on her face was a serious expression.

“Hi, I’m Keira” She smiled at you, one of those cute grins that you knew you were fortunate to see.

“Keira, hmm I like that name. Y/n, nice to meet you.” You stick your hand out for her to shake, her hand oh so soft in yours.

Hours passed quickly in that dimly lit cafe, so swept up in conversation that neither of you noticed the quickly darkening sky.

Her friends were long gone, having left only minutes after her introduction. She was everything you looked for in a person, quick-witted, smart, endearing, kind and so much more. The fact that she was absolutely gorgeous was a plus too.

Her eyes widened when she realized that she didn’t have a ride home, having caught a ride with one of her friends.

“I know that this might sound a bit weird, but you could stay over at my house for the night. Only if you want to though, it’s only a walking distance away…” Her laughter cuts off your rambling, the sound so addictive. 

“That would be nice Y/n.” She answers quickly, wanting to see how you lived after talking to you for so long.

That was the start of 2 weeks of pure bliss. You spent the entire time with the redhead, all the way until you had to go home. Home to Spain, to Barcelona. 

It was with a promise of calling often and a deep kiss that you boarded the plane, suddenly feeling empty.

It had been 6 months since you last saw her in person and ever since you had been nothing more than a mess. She was like a drug and you were addicted, your body was going through withdrawal. 

But both of you had jobs that kept you busy, neither of you had the time to go visit the other. 

You missed her ginger hair that she liked to keep in a ponytail but would let you run your fingers through and the way she liked to dress. You were a fool for falling for the redhead from England, all you wanted to do was scream and yell for her to come over, to abandon her job for once and just spend a week together.

Such foolish thoughts plagued your mind day in and out, you couldn’t get rid of them even if you tried. Keira was the only thought that ran through your mind every moment of the day. 

Did she have to live in England? You take another swig of the lukewarm beer you’d been nursing for the last hour. Did she have to stay in her small Manchester apartment? Couldn’t she just be with you.

You were nothing if not desperate for her touch, for her bright hair between your fingers, for her hand in yours. You crave it, like an addict craves a fix. She’s all you need.

The pictures she sends you doesn’t make it any better, her skin glowing and a content smile on her face. As the days become brighter in England, her hair becomes lighter and you have to restrain yourself from begging her to fly over to you. 

Her busy schedule was nothing new to you, she was just so accustomed to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. That didn’t mean that you weren’t bothered by it, she needed a break sometimes, a break you gave her.

“I’m moving Y/n/n.” She drops the bomb on you one day, the hot summer sun beating down on your skin. Keira sees the way your eyes widen significantly and she smiles, the best news not yet shared.

“That’s great amor, where to?” She felt her face heat up, the shy smile taking over her lips. It was no secret that Keira Walsh loved it when you called her a Spanish pet name. 

“Well, City have sold me to a certain league winning club…” Her voice trails off as she waits for you to catch on to where she’s moving.

“Chelsea?” Keira laughs at the confusion on your face, shaking her head.

“Nope, I’m moving somewhere warm.”

“YOU’RE COMING TO SPAIN?!” The loud sound of your voice carries throughout your bedroom, and cheers soon follow when she nods.

“Barca signed me, I’m flying to Spain in a couple of days.” She smiles softly at your excitement, seeing when you pump your fist into the air.

“This might sound weird, but since you’re moving to Barcelona, is there any chance that you might want to maybe move in with me?” Her beaming smile reassures you that she’s not weirded out by the proposal. Her eyes dart around your face and she feels her heart pump dangerously against her chest.

“That would be great Y/n. I love you so much.” 

“Hey, Kei? Why don’t you come on over?” Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing on it lightly.

When you feel her body slot into your side once more after oh so long, you feel whole, like nothing more than her could make you happy.

[hardlysticks]

The Sea Breeze Carries Unknown Secrets

Chapter 1

You can’t remember much of last night, you remember waking up and seeing two creatures in the ocean. Clearly it was a dream, being back in this town brought back the ideas of the creatures that your grandfather had warned you about.

Besides that weird dream and the splashes near the rocks, everything had been fairly normal. You spend your days venturing into town and reliving parts of your childhood summers that you could remember; that cute little cafe that always served tasty treats, or maybe the little antique shop where your grandfather had bought you a little model sailboat. It was all surprisingly still here.

It brought you a sense of comfort to see that everything was still the same, which meant that those you had met when you were younger still remembered you.

“Oh darling! It’s been so long since we last saw you!”

An older woman broke you from your thoughts as she brought her hands up to pinch at the apple of your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but smile at the affection and her words, you remember the older woman, she was one who would feed you stories of the sea while always leaving a seat open for you and your grandfather open at her restaurant.

“I know I know, college and my career really kept me away from visiting. But I’ve moved into papa’s old home” you mentioned to her.

You weren’t that young kid who would run around town and listen to whatever story you could get your hands on, you were now in your mid thirties and had stepped your foot into the world of publishing and writing books.

“That’s wonderful! We really have missed seeing you around. Now if you ever need a little something to eat then you know where to find me” she gave you a quick pat on the cheek before she had wandered off back to her restaurant.

As the older woman wandered off you pulled your phone out of your pocket to look at the list you made for yourself, even if you finished unpacking you still had stuff left to do. Such as grocery shopping.

With your phone in hand you made your way to the small market that the town called a grocery store, staring down at your grocery list you meandered down the aisles grabbing the food that would sustain you in your new houses.

The fruit and vegetables always seemed to be more ripe and colorful in the coastal town, you don’t remember seeing such a juicy mango in the city. Staring at the display of vegetables in front of you, it distracts you from the feeling of being watched. Coal brown eyes that followed every little bit of your movement, but staying out of your sight.

Your mind played it off as someone not recognizing you in a town of close knit people, with a shake of your head you moved to wander down the bakery aisle instead.

With your gaze focused on your grocery list you managed to walk into a wall, though when you glanced up from the list you noticed that it was in fact not a wall…. And instead a wall of muscle.

“Oh!- oh I’m so sorry! I really should have focused on where I’m going-“ you stuttered out as you started at the behemoth of a man.

The man, now that you got a better look, was around 6’2 and built like a brick house. A black surgical mask covered the lower half of his face, if you squinted just slightly you could see a display of light freckles that dusted his face, and then there was the dark brown eyes but you could have sworn under the fluorescent light it turned to an amber like color.

“It’s fine” a gruff voice interrupted you from your thoughts, the thick Manchester accent definitely matched this giant of a man. The man held a basket filled with summer vegetables and what seemed like tea boxes.

“Right um… still I should pay better attention” you added, before offering your name towards him. The man raised an eyebrow; staring down at your form before letting out another grunt.

“M’names simon” he replied, a tinge of hesitancy lining his voice, all while his eyes held a sort of amusement. With a smile you gave him a nod and glanced down at your almost full basket, you had gotten what you came here for.

“Well… it’s nice to meet you Simon. But I must be off now. I hope to see you around” you offered him with a smile before heading off to the cashier. The line went by fast and you were able to pay for all the necessities you needed for the next few days.

The walk home was nice, the cool sea breeze cools you down from the summer sun all while letting your hair wisp against your face. It was far better than the smog filled air you had learned to live with in the city.

Town wasn’t all too far from your seaside cottage, a long gravel road welcomed you back to your cottage. Carefully balancing your bags of groceries in your arms you tried to reach back towards your pocket to retrieve your key to open your door. As you stopped at your porch you noticed something blocking your way.

Fish… dead fish

As you took a closer look at the fish you noticed it was a small arrangement of cod and grouper… how the hell did they make their way to your porch from the seaside? With a groan you stepped around them and brought your groceries inside, trying to plan on how to deal with the fish.

Eventually the only thing that came to mind was… throwing the dead fish back in the sea. Your lip curled up in slight disgust as you picked up the dead fish and tossed them back into the sea, mumbling to yourself about how gross that was.

A pair of sapphire eyes watched from past the rocks on the coastline, squinting with confusion as they watched you toss the fish away.

Authors note!- y’all I’m so sorry school kicked my ass with exams but I should now be regularly posting each weekend! And also next chapter reader will do some interacting with someone special 👀

[avis-writeshq]

miya atsumu – a lovely night

genre&warnings: rated 16+ for enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and slowburn; mentions of eating and unsafe usage of cooking knives!! fem!reader

a/n: it was meant to be a small drabble but i got carried away lmao (i’ve also been working on this for more than a year so my peep my writing style changes LMFAOOO)

w/c: 10k exact

“i hate it here.”

“you say that every morning,” aneko chuckled, tying her hair up in a ponytail. “what happened this time?”

“i have a biology presentation soon and i’m not looking forward to it.” you side-eyed the window, watching as students begin filing out of their dorm rooms and into the walkways that lead to the campus. 

aneko sighed, patting your shoulder. “you’ll do fine. you do well in every presentation, you know that.”

a lopsided smile made its way onto your face as you shrug your bag over your shoulder. “thanks, aneko… i’m gonna get some coffee. you want anything?”

she shook her head ‘no’, and you shrugged, making your way down the stairs, crossing the dormitories to the cafe next to the campus. 

as soon as you took your place in line, a scalding sensation erupts through your shirt and all over your chest, and you jump back in shock and pain. 

“what the hell?” you demand, hissing as the coffee burned your skin. unfortunately, the perpetrator is nowhere to be found, seemingly fleeing the scene. the last thing you see of the person is a volleyball jacket and piss-coloured hair. 

gritting your teeth in frustration, you storm out of the cafe, ignoring the cries of the cafe staff and trailing after him. “oi! piss hair! you little…” a grunt escapes your lips as he makes a turn, disappearing into the sea of students. 

eyes narrowing into slits, you marched your way back to your dorm, throwing the door open. 

“what happened to you?” sakura frowned, getting up from her seat on the couch. “oh, and aneko’s on her date.”

“first of all,” you scowled, dumping your bags on the ground and retreating to the bathroom, “if you ever see a piss-haired brat, punch them in the face for me.”

“piss-haired brat,” she rolled her eyes in amusement before asking, “are you alright, (y/n)?”

tugging the shirt over your head, you stormed back out into the kitchen. “i have a biology presentation in an hour, i had boiling coffee spill on me and the guy didn’t even apologise! and now aneko has to go and flaunt her non-singleness to the world!”

“well, that guy is a douchebag,” she hummed. “and you know you always get the highest score in biology, so that’s not an issue for you. oh and you’re never going to guess what kou-chan told me!”

you raise an unsuspecting eyebrow, “what?”

she squeals, her hand clapping in excitement. “they knows someone who needs a date! he’s looking for a partner!”

your nose scrunched in distaste, “you set me up with six dates since last september and it’s only the beginning of january. do i really want your help in finding a date?”

“i know someone. trust me on this, okay?” she pats your shoulder and smooths out your hair. “are you free tomorrow night?”

“i think so…” you eye her wearily. “i’m trusting you, got it?”

she grins, the smile stretching across her face in excitement, “i won’t let you down! oh, you should start heading to biology.”

you nod, “alright… i’ll see you later. it’s your turn to buy groceries, so don’t forget!” 

shooting you a thumbs up, sakura goes back to her fashion magazine, and you close the dorm door. maybe the day would get better? it can only go up from here… right? shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, you half-jog to the lecture hall, clutching at the strap of your shoulder bag. the hall is already half-filled with people reading over their notes, doing last-minute editing, and practising. 

finding a seat near the middle, you began taking out all your notes from your bag. as you read through your entire presentation, the chair beside you screeched as someone took a seat there. 

glancing up at the person to say a quick greeting and then you realised — “you!”

you bolted up from your seat, your eyes narrowed and the chair screeched as it dragged against the floor. he gapes, watching you stand.

“the hell ya talkin’ about?”

“you–” you flinched as the sharp hushing of students met your ears and you bowed sheepishly in apology. you turned back to the smug-looking brat, hissing your explanations. “the main issue is the fact that you spilled hot coffee on me. what’s worse is how you didn’t even apologise!” 

he chuckled, “i see. you’re just a fan who wants attention! okay, you can watch our volleyball practice–”

“i don’t want to watch your stupid volleyball practice!” you snapped, gathering your books and shoving them into your bag. “unless you want to apologise, i don’t want to see your ugly face and piss hair.”

“hey–”

flipping him off as discreetly as possible, you stalked your way over to the other side of the lecture hall, sitting in between two students. 

one raised their eyebrow at you. “is miya atsumu your boyfriend?”

you scoffed, muttering under your breath, “atsumu? what a shitty name…” you turn back to them, “no, he’s not my boyfriend. if he was, he would be dead by now.”

they nod, eyebrows raised, before turning back to their notes. 

you, on the other hand, were left to your thoughts. miya? where have you heard that name before? and why the hell did he look so familiar?

*** 

“oi–”

“are you going to apologise?” you asked, not looking at him as you pack up your things after your successful presentation. “listen, buddy, i'm in a good mood. something i don’t want you screwing up.”

“i’m not here to apologise,” he huffed, “but maybe i can make it up to you?”

“i only want an apology, sweet cheeks,” a sarcastic smile bloomed on your face, and you patted his cheek snarkily. “now if you excuse me, i would like to get the coffee i couldn’t get this morning.”

“i’ll treat you,” atsumu offered and you shot him a glare.

“sure. i’ll take an apology with a side of sincerity.”

the smile on your face grew wider and you walked out of the lecture room and into the throng of students. 

*** 

“i sure hope that this date of mine is as good as you say…” you hummed, searching through your bag to make sure you have everything. “why does it have to be at this fancy restaurant again?”

“because the guy just so happens to be extra,” sakura says, taking a left turn and parking in front of a tall building. “you are wearing the heels i gave you right?”

you nodded begrudgingly, recalling how she forced you to wear them before you left your dorm.

she squealed, her bright blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “okay, so here’s the rundown. the restaurant is ise sueyoshi–”

“i’m sorry, ise sueyoshi, as in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of tokyo?”

“i tried to talk him out of it,” she defended, grimacing at the thought of the bill. “look, it’ll be fine. just don’t think about it, okay? after the restaurant, you’ll take a nice walk around the city! oh, and i’m confiscating your keys.”

you blanched, “what, why?”

“so that you can’t ditch him halfway. no one is going to be home until your date is over, so there’s no reason for you to ditch.” she grinned, “you’ll be fine! he’s a good guy, trust me on this.”

you groaned in annoyance but pushed the car door open. “i’ll call you when i get inside the restaurant.”

she beamed, yelling, “the reservation is under hasegawa sakura!” before driving off into the distance. 

a sigh left your lips as you stomp your way inside the building, taking the lift to the 11th floor. after entering the restaurant, you take a seat, looking at the bright city of tokyo below you. 

“what a view, huh?”

no. you scowled, looking up at atsumu. “i’ve seen better.”

he shrugged, taking the seat in front of you and swirling his cup of wine around. “so yer my blind date. i would have thought that sakura had better friends.” 

you sneered as you rose from your seat. “i was thinking the same thing. the only reason i’m on this stupid date is because of her, anyway.”

he grinned, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he says, “so ya asked her to set’cha up with me? very cute, sweetheart, but if ya wanted to go on a date with me, ya could have just asked.”

you scoffed, “i know full well about your reputation with girls, sweetheart. they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts. besides, why the hell would i be attracted to someone like you?”

atsumu flinched at the honesty in your voice. do people really see him as some dream crusher heart breaker? “listen, sweet cheeks–” he relished in the way your cheeks darken at his words– “i am a great person.”

“yes, because every ‘great person’ flaunts about it in the hallways. yes, miya, you’re a great person.” the sarcasm rolled off your tongue fluidly, and he can’t help but roll his eyes when you speak again. “i lost my appetite. excuse me.”

he bolted up from his seat, eyes wide as you throw your bag over your shoulder and make your way out of the restaurant. “woah, woah, woah. do ya know how hard it was to get a reservation here? i even got a suit for this!”

“no, i don’t know how hard it was to get a reservation here. and this is just further proof you’re an asshole. you want to show off your money to some random stranger, knowing entirely that it’s a blind date.” you fake a smile and bow to the staff members.

atsumu faltered in  his step before continuing to run after you. “okay, listen–”

“no, i am not going to listen, because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is bullshit. come on sakura, pick up…” 

“(l/n)–”

“stop! okay, just… just stop.” your nostrils flared, and you turned around to shoot him a venomous glare. “i don’t care about you or your dumb polyester suit–”

“it’s wool.”

“–but you have to be stupid to think that i’d ever fall for you.” 

he groaned, wiping his face in frustration. “we’re both doing this for sakura so can ya just cooperate for one damn night?”

you grit your teeth, eyeing him carefully, “okay. just one night.”

*** 

“i have t’ask,” atsumu begins, your bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. “why are ya on this date anyway? woulda thought that someone as charming as you would have had a date by now.”

“i could ask you the same question,” you quip, eyes fixated on the bright city lights that you could see from the aoyama bridge. “it’s not important anyway.”

he shrugged, “just wanted to know why.”

“both sakura and aneko have boyfriends. it kind of sucks to be the third wheel all the time. they give me hell for not doing anything on friday nights, too,” you shrug, “i mean, it’s not a big deal.”

atsumu snorts at your words. “so you want a date for the sake of having a date?”

“i want a date for the sake of not being lonely,” you correct, “but i think i’m going to have to be lonely for the time being.”

“an’ why do you think that?” a lazy smirk rests on his lips. “i’d be a perfect boyfriend.”

“yeah, that’d appeal to someone who believes in romance,” you laugh, patting his cheek and taking your bag off him. 

to miya atsumu, life is a competition to be the best. who can win the most volleyball games? who can get the highest test result? who can eat the most onigiris from onigiri miya without taking breaks? life to him is a competition. it’s a race to the finish line and the person who gets there first is the winner. and what you just said? it sounds an awful lot like a challenge.

“alright then,” he grins at you, “i’ll make you fall in love with me by… say, end of june.”

“what’s that going to do for you? give you an ego boost?” you roll your eyes, “i’m not doing that.”

“scared, sweetheart?”

crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a glare. “no, i’m not. but i hope you realise that i am frankly feeling nothing.”

“is that so?”

“mmm, no. in fact, it could be less than nothing.” 

he chuckles, “good to know. so, you agree?”

“that this is a waste of a lovely night? yes.”

“you know what i mean. if i can make you fall in love with me by the end of june, you have to be my girlfriend.” 

you snort in response, “if i didn’t know any better, miya, i’d say you’re in love with me.” 

he rolls his eyes, clearly ignoring your first remark. “alright then, choose your prize if you’re so confident.”

“if you fall in love with me…” you hum an evil glint in your eye, “i get total and full control over your social media.”

he smirks, holding out his hand for you to shake. “anything for you, princess.”

*** 

to you, life was about survival. don’t die, don’t mess up, don’t be a failure. that also meant ‘don’t get lonely, because that just screws things up for everyone’. aneko had eito, her boyfriend since high school, and sakura had taniguchi kou, the manager for the ejp volleyball team. that must have been how she even had connections to miya atsumu in the first place. survival was also not doing anything unnecessary. whether it be sleeping at ungodly hours, binge-watching an entire anime, or just studying too much, you couldn’t do that because it’ll destroy your schedule the next day. your life was based on routine. that is, it was based on routine. 

“hey, (y/n), there’s some mail for you!” aneko yells out into the dorm, waving a pristine envelope around.

you raise an eyebrow. “it’s probably junk, just throw it out!”

“i’m gonna open it, okay?” she beams at you as you crack an egg into the pan.

“knock yourself out.” 

you hum quietly to yourself as you turn off the stove and move the egg on top of your rice. grabbing a pair of chopsticks from your drawer, you cut through the egg, just as you hear a squeal.

“(y/n), oh my god, did you buy volleyball tickets? they’re vips, too!”

“what?” you push your seat back, grabbing the envelope from aneko’s hands. “i didn’t buy any volleyball tickets? it’s probably been given to the wrong person.”

“but there was a note for you in the envelope…” she frowned, “are you sure that it’s not for you?”

confusion was clear on your face as you pulled the note out, but it was replaced with a look of pure annoyance when you realised exactly who the note was from. 

‘dear: (l/n) (y/n),

see you in the stands ;)

from: atsumu <3’

a deep scowl plasters itself onto your face and you dial his number into your phone. 

“did you–”

“you absolute asshole!” you yell into your phone, swiftly cutting him off, slapping a hand against your forehead. “i’m not going to your dumb volleyball game, got it? i have things to do and places to be.”

“you and i both know that isn’t true, sweetheart,” he snorts and you can practically hear his eye roll. “you told me yourself - you don’t usually have plans on friday nights.”

you grimace because yes, you did say that. “well maybe i have plans now?” the words came out as a question and he chuckles.

“come on, it’ll be fun!” 

“we’ll see,” you mutter before hanging up. 

*** 

“i’ve never been in a proper volleyball stadium before,” aneko says as she bit into her onigiri. “i can’t believe you got vip tickets, (n/n)!”

“yeah… amazing,” you manage, a meek smile plastered on your face. 

the entire stadium looks as if a rainbow puked on it. bright, colourful posters to support the players well held high in the air by multiple people. banners hang over the stands, the team’s logo and motto drawn in neat calligraphy... the multitude of people who came to watch was overwhelming – almost every seat has been filled. 

“the first match is… black jackals versus the sendai frogs!” aneko beams as she looks at the flyer. “wow, they’re both really good. (y/n), look at them!”

forcing the flyer in front of your face, you push it away from you so you could properly read it, taking note of the team members. each of the members on both teams look good — really good. you look around yourself and chuckle, of course. no wonder it was so full. most of the fans are girls anyway. 

one girl, sporting a bright blue shirt with the words ‘go atsumu!’, happens to catch your eye. she’s a typical popular girl — false clumpy lashes that you can spot from a mile away, hair curled in obnoxious rings, and a banner that screamed ‘look at me!’. you can tell from the amused looks the people gave her that she is a common spectator at msby games. 

“that’s emiko etsudo,” aneko grumbles, catching your gaze, “she’s in my lecture and never stops talking.”

“seems to be the type,” you snort, turning back to the volleyball courts where the players began to take their places.

the black jackals are insane. even when they were just starting up you can already tell how skilled they are. each spike that hits against the glossy wooden floors sends shivers down your spine. as the game went on and got more intense, it’s clear that msby was in the lead in the fifth set. both teams won two sets each, an impressive feat in itself, and the score for the fifth set is close — 11-10 in the jackal’s favour.

soon enough, atsumu’s turn to serve came around after a quick rotation, and the cheerleaders and band immediately fell into a hush. your eyes meet with atsumu and he sends a wink your way, resulting in a high pitched shriek to resound throughout the stadium. you can hear emiko freaking out and screaming that he was winking at her, amusing you. sending a small, two-fingered salute back at atsumu, you brushed your pants down as you stood up.

“i’m gonna head off to the bathroom for a second. i’ll be right back, okay?” 

aneko nods, fully immersed in the game. letting out a tired sigh, you leave the gym, searching for the restroom. the volleyball game must have ended a lot quicker than you expected when an entire team walks past you, almost trampling you in the process. 

“well, well, well. what do we have here?” 

you groan, “miya. i’m assuming you won?”

“don’t look so excited,” he grins boyishly, and you ignore the warming of your heart as he does. “we’re gonna go get some drinks after we win. care to join?”

he slings a sweaty arm over your shoulder and you cringe, pushing his arm off. “i don’t do drinks.”

“you harassing someone, miya?” a lazy voice drawls from behind you, and you almost jump at the random voice.

“o’course not, omi-kun!” atsumu snorts, “this is (y/n)!”

“(l/n),” you correct, patting his back sarcastically, “we’re not quite there yet.”

‘omi-kun’ raises an eyebrow. “right. nice to meet you.” and with that, he followed the rest of the team into the locker room, hands stuffed into his pockets. 

“that’s a character.” you roll your eyes. “anyway, i better head back to aneko. she’s probably getting worried.”

“i’ll walk ya,” he offers, a bright smile on his face, only for it to fall within seconds. 

“miya? what’s—”

a harsh squeal meets your ears and you flinch, whipping around to see etsudo, her merch in plain view and looking like a disco ball. 

“atsumu, oh my god, you were so good out there!” her high pitched voice rings in your ears. 

“shut up—” atsumu begins, but stops short. your words echo in his head, ‘they go up to you all starry-eyed and then you break their hearts’. “yeah, whatever.”

etsudo’s eyes widen and you can practically see the excitement oozing out of her. “i knew you’d love me!”

“how do you get that from— never mind,” you shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your face as you begin to walk away. “i’m gonna go. good luck with this, miya.”

“wait, hold on,” atsumu fumbles, running past etsudo and trailing behind you. “i said i would walk ya.”

“but you were having such a good time with your fangirl,” you say innocently, battering your eyelashes. “emiko etsudo, i think her name is?”

“don’t remind me,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she’s gone to every game and thinks that i’m in love with her or something. spoiled pig…”

“so you don’t like her? do you hate all your fans?” you raise an eyebrow, both in curiosity and in disbelief.

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “not all of them. you’re the only one i can tolerate.”

“smooth,” you laugh, “how many girls did you use that one on?”

“just one,” he hums, bumping his side gently against yours. 

you can’t deny the fluttering of your insides as he does and you scold yourself. this is a game to him — he doesn’t feel anything for you. 

“how nice of you,” you say, trying to ignore the growing blush on your cheeks and the heat that’s crawled up to your ears. “well, there’s aneko. i’m gonna go…”

“alright, then.” he grins, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “until next time, sweet cheeks.” 

you gape as he leaves, cheeks hot with embarrassment and surprise. “wha-”

“(y/n), oh my god, was that atsumu?” aneko demands, shaking you to answer. 

you don’t respond, trying to calm yourself down from shock, your heart racing a thousand times an hour. you don’t mean anything to him. you’re a game to him — a game that he plays just to show everyone else that he is better than them.

“(y/n)? are you okay?”

you jolt out of your trance, blinking tiredly. “oh. yeah. i’m fine.”

*** 

“atsumu-san, who was that?” hinata bounds up to him, all smiles after winning against his longtime rival. 

“(l/n) (y/n), apparently,” sakusa responds, his hands still stuffed in his pockets and a towel around his shoulders. 

“oh, she’s sakura-chan’s friend, right?” bokuto asks brightly and takes a bite of his protein bar. 

atsumu nods, mind distant as he thinks about where to take you on your next ‘date’. it wouldn't be a real date if he already bet on it, right? would a cafe work? what about a cat cafe? do you even like cats?

“oi, miya.”

he looks up to see sakusa, and he grins, “knew i’d grow on you, omi-omi~”

“your face looks gross,” he scrunches his face in disgust.

“you had a funny look on your face, atsumu-san!” hinata laughs. 

“like how taniguchi-san looks at sakura-chan!” bokuto agrees side-eying atsumu who was no longer paying attention to the conversation. 

currently, atsumu was thinking of a million ways he could win your heart. he was thinking of a million ways to get you to fall for him, all so that he can prove to you that he isn’t as bad as you think he is. he had a little over a month to get you to fall in love with him and, granted, he did spill boiling coffee over you and then proceeded to not apologise. scratching his head in thought, a lightbulb suddenly dinged in his head. there is only one person in the world who knows everything about everything. and in this case? everyone. 

*** 

“nice try. not happening,” sakura responds swiftly, turning away from the setter. “look, atsumu, you’re my friend and all, but the fact that you want to win my best friend over for the sake of your pride isn’t a good enough reason to ‘get to know her’. if anything, it makes you seem like an even shitter person than everyone perceives you to be.”

he snorts at her words, “you really are a friend of (y/n). come on, sakura-chan! i just need to know what she likes! that’s all!”

sakura grits her teeth, beginning to regret sending you on that date with this piss-haired brat. “i don’t care, atsumu. i’m not going to let you break her heart for the sake of your stupid pride. you want to use someone for your stupid experiment? fine, not my problem, but you’re going to use my best friend.”

he flinches at her icy tone, now understanding why kou-san warned him about getting on sakura’s bad side. despite her incredibly bright and sunny disposition, she really was incredibly terrifying when it came to the people that she cared about which was not good for him. next attempt? fukuhara aneko. 

“i don’t understand why you’re trying so hard,” aneko remarks as she invites atsumu into the shared apartment, “you’re doing this… because you want to be known as some dreamboat who breaks girls’ hearts left right and centre?”

“i’m doing this to prove a point,” atsumu corrects, “but when you say it that way—”

“i am not going to let you break my best friend’s heart,” aneko cuts in, taking a knife out of the knife block and waving it around halfheartedly, relishing in the way the setter flinches. “nice try, though.”

he groans in annoyance, “sakura-chan said the same thing.”

“then why are you trying?” aneko demands, frustration clear in her voice, “you’re putting all this effort in to ‘prove a point’. do you know how ridiculous you sound? what’s the real reason you want to win (y/n) over?”

at her words, atsumu falls silent. as cliche as it seemed, you were interesting to him. you’re different, and at his thoughts, the volleyball player cringes internally. to be entirely fair, and to give you credit, you stood your ground around him which was admirable, to say the least. unlike the other ‘spoiled pigs’, you actually have some sort of awareness. maybe he… 

he shakes his head, snorting quietly. as if he attracted to someone the likes of you. 

“i’ll figure it out myself,” atsumu concludes, avoiding aneko’s unimpressed gaze. “she has to fall for me at some point. does she have any social media?”

“i thought you said that you’ll figure it out yourself,” aneko responds drily. “why don’t you just ask her yourself? let me guess; your pride?"

to atsumu, that sounded a whole lot like a challenge. 

*** 

for a friday morning, you were surprisingly busy, especially because of all the practice exams you’ve been doing as preparation for an exam that will take place in less than three months. but of course, no day passes without a few random interruptions. 

“hey, sweetheart, you doing anything?” 

atsumu’s annoying voice rang in your ears through the phone, and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth. “what do you want, miya?”

“i was just wondering if there’s anything in particular you wanted to do, lately,” he responds, his voice in a sing-song tone. “just figured i should take you out on a better date.”

you scoff at his proposal, “nice try, miya. you’re not getting me that easily.”

“aw, don’t be like that, darling! i’ll take you out to get coffee, how about that?”

a silence washes over you as you consider his offer. to be entirely fair, you couldn’t really say no to a free food, and it did give him a chance to redeem himself. not to mention you definitely did need the coffee at some point.

“alright, miya, let’s do it.” you shrug, not that he could see it, “when and where?”

“i’ll text you the address,” he responds, and you can hear the pride and smugness through the phone. “see you there, babe.”

from: miya

hey princess!

from: miya

[sent location]

from: miya

see you in 20!

a sigh escapes your lips, not believing that you actually let yourself be dragged into this mess – a mess that was only made for atsumu’s pride and ego. picking up your bag, you made your way over to the location he sent you, praying that it wasn’t some sick joke and that you weren’t about to be murdered. 

your arrival at the cafe doesn’t go unnoticed by the volleyball player, the little bell at the door welcoming you in and announcing your presence to the rest of the people inside. you don’t miss the way atsumu’s head spins around to look at you, a boyish grin spreading onto his face as if to say, “i can’t believe you’re actually here.” you find it funny, considering how he’s the one who invited you here in such an ominous way. he waves you over enthusiastically – too enthusiastically – and you ignore the quickening of your heart at the way he looks so excited to see you. 

he’s not happy to see you, you have to remind yourself – although you feel your heart begin to sink at your own thoughts. you huff, now is not the time to be caught up in his romantic theatrics. the only reason why he’s so excited to see you is to rub it in your face that you actually fell for it. right?

“i already ordered for us!” atsumu said happily, taking a sip of his coffee for affect, “ya don’t mind, do ya, princess?” 

“atsumu, do you really think i’m a princess?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 

“ya know i do, princess!” he smiles, pushing a dark chocolate mocha towards you.

“then stop making decisions for me,” you deadpan, crossing your legs. “how do you even know what i order anyway?”

another obnoxious grin your way as he answers, “i have connections.”

you scoff once again, rolling your eyes as you lifted the drink to your lips. 

atsumu hates the way his eyes fell to your lips as you spoke and he hates the way his heart began to pound the second you stepped through the door of the cafe. he isn’t supposed to feel this way – he’s not supposed to like you. so he suppresses his feelings. as usual. 

the date – could you even call it a date? – ended on a positive note to your surprise. atsumu was clearly doing his best to be ‘the man of your dreams’, and as much as you appreciated his gentlemanly ways, you hated to admit that you missed his teasing charms and his childish antics. the idea of you missing his annoying nature is beyond your own understanding, to the point where you were almost sure that he had successfully brainwashed you. 

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts away as you return to the present. atsumu decided to walk you back to your dorm which, to give him credit, was actually quite sweet of him… even though you kept insisting that it wasn’t necessary. 

“hey, lets do this again sometime,” you find yourself saying, realising that you actually did enjoy the boy’s company. “it was fun!”

he smirks smugly at you, and you had to laugh as he says, “i knew i’d grow on you, love!”

“just be yourself next time,” you snort, patting him on the shoulder as you walk to the entrance of your dorm building. “i’m paying!”

“as if!” he yells back, and you smile as he waves goodbye. 

you’re left to your thoughts as you ride the elevator to the seventh floor, thinking over what just transpired. it was weird – considering atsumu’s naturally flirtatious character – and if you had to be completely honest with yourself, it was unnerving seeing him do a complete one-eighty regarding his personality. 

the biggest thing that worried you was how he was so willing and quick to change his personality for someone. was he that desperate to prove himself to a complete stranger?

“so…?”

you hear a voice as you enter your dorm. there, sakura leaned against the kitchen counter, the biggest and the smuggest look on her face. 

“how was the date?” she coos, eyes glistening in mischief. 

“weird,” you respond, dropping your bags to the side as you pull a chair out to sit. “sakura, you know him. has he ever been in any… bad relationships?”

she thinks for a moment before responding, “why do you ask?”

you shrug, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “he just seems to eager to prove how macho he is. did something happen?”

“from what i know, and from what kou’s told me, he’s always been like that. you could always ask osamu-san, though. you know him, the owner of onigiri miya.”

you clicked your fingers in acknowledgement, “so that’s why he looked so familiar! i haven’t been to that place in ages!”

she nods, “ask osamu. tell him i sent you.”

*** 

“kombu-onigiri for (l/n) (y/n)!” osamu calls out to the small crowd of people, and you have to do a double take when you see him. 

he was practically the same as atsumu, aside from his dark grey eyes and ash brown hair, and you had to hold your tongue from complaining. 

“thanks,” you smile, taking the little bag. 

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” osamu comments as he prepares another order. “busy with uni?”

you sigh tiredly, “it is what it is. i wanted to talk to you about something.”

he nods, “shoot. umekaka-onigiri for kimura!”

“it’s about atsumu.”

he stops before turning to you slowly. “... let’s wait until i close, yeah? happy to wait for another hour or so?”

“take your time.”

time passes quickly among the quiet vocaloid music and the volleyball game that played on the tv overhead, as well as the multitude of customers that came and went. osamu gave you complimentary onigiris while you waited and despite your initial denial of the free food, you had to give in to the soft smell of caramelised rice and sesame oil. 

it was well past seven o’clock by the time osamu was able to speak to you, but at least you were well fed while you waited. 

“sorry about that,” osamu apologises, untying his apron and placing a cup of hot green tea in front of you. “what did you want to talk about?”

at that moment, you want to scream at the universe. of course, you’re stuck with the annoying stuck up brat instead of the sweet chef that sat in front of you. 

“don’t worry about it,” you smile, wrapping your hands around the warm cup. “atsumu… has he ever been in any bad romantic relationships?”

he doesn’t respond directly, instead chuckling and asking, “you’re the girl he’s seeing, aren’t you? the hard-headed one? what does he call you again? oh, ‘princess’, was it?”

you raise an eyebrow, “he talks about me?”

he smirks, leaning back in his seat and there’s a smugness as he says, “a lot more than you think, princess.”

you take back everything you said about the universe. both the miya twins were equally insufferable. 

“don’t call me that. and answer the question!”

his face falls from the obnoxious grin he once had and settles into a frown. “he was. a year ago, with… tachibana reina, i think. fucking bitch.”

your eyes widen at the sudden coldness and spite that drips from his words. “what happened?”

“cheated on him. treated him like shit. god… no wonder he’s been going on so many dates.” he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “i shouldn’t tell you this, and frankly i shouldn’t be telling you anything, but…”

he looks around, almost comically, before saying, “i really think you’re good for him, (y/n). i’m serious. out of all the girls he’s gone on dates with, he’s made it pretty clear that he likes you.”

you almost laugh if he wasn’t so serious. “he’s only trying so hard to prove a point, osamu. he doesn’t feel anything for me.”

he sips his green tea, laughing quietly, “i promise he actually likes you. he’s just scared, y’know?”

“from everything you’ve told me? i get it.” it’s your turn to frown as you digest his words. “i just need to take care of myself too, that’s all.”

“just talk to him. really, he’s not as bad a guy as you’d expect.”

*** 

after days of psyching yourself up – only to psych yourself out – you find yourself waiting at the university gym, cringing internally at the smell of sweat and antiperspirant. but all that goes away the moment you sit at the bleachers, the manager of the team nodding in acknowledgement. the rest of the volleyball team didn’t seem to notice your entry into the gym, and if they did, they clearly didn’t pay any mind to it as they continued their practice game. and damn was it a view. strangely enough, you found your eyes to linger a little too long on a familiar blond player, him sporting the number ‘7’ on his jersey. 

as much as you wanted to deny it, it was undeniably cute and inspiring to see him work so hard. but it all comes crashing down when he lands awkwardly on his leg after a block. 

it all happens so quickly; the captain calling for a time-out, the manager rushing over to him and the coach yelling for everyone to give him some room. you stand from your seat, hoping to get a better view of what was going on, and you did. and you wished you just stayed seated or you could purge the image out of your memory.

there atsumu sat, trying and failing to get up without anyone’s help. it was a painful scene to watch as he gasped in pain and exhaustion, denying his captain’s hand and ignoring his manager’s pleas to let the rest of the team help him. 

“hey, atsumu…” 

his neck snaps to look at you, your hand outstretched with a lopsided smile on your face (you tried to make it reassuring). 

“come on, ‘tsumu. let’s get you to the infirmary.”

you help him wrap an arm over your neck as you hoist him up, him balancing on his good leg. 

“i got it from here,” you say to the coach who let out a heave of relief. 

“thank you, (l/n).”

the walk to the infirmary was quiet, and although it was only a short distance, the journey seemed to stretch on and on. the moment he makes his presence aware to the nurse, she fusses over him, almost like a mother goose tending to her child. 

it was obvious that atsumu was doing his best to stay strong, despite how his brown eyes glossed over with tears and how he hissed in pain when the nurse moved his ankle slightly. 

“a sprain,” she says to the both of you, before addressing the boy in front of her. “grade two sprain, teetering to grade three. i’m calling six weeks off the ankle and then rehab for two weeks.”

“that’s… two months?” 

the voice crack is evident in the setter’s voice and he’s on the verge of tears. you would be, too if you were in his shoes. taking one month off to recover is already bad enough for an athlete, let alone two. 

she nods, “i’ll let your coach know. stay off the ankle, atsumu, i mean it.” she turns to you, “you make sure of it, okay?”

“of course.”

you drive atsumu’s car (a fancy mercedes because apparently their team was sponsored by them or something like that) to his dorm, helping him onto the couch. 

“are you okay?”

he nods and you watch him swallow the lump in his throat.

you ask him again, and it’s only then when he cries. you sit beside him as he cries into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek and your ear as you rub his back. you press kisses to the top of his head, denying every horrible harsh thing that comes out of his mouth. he cries and cries until there’s nothing left to cry about. he cries about his injury and how he’s letting everyone down. he cries about how he’s never good enough and how you deserve better – someone who isn’t stuck up and obnoxious. he cries about reina and how it’s his fault she fell out of love with him. he cries about how he was horrible to osamu, his brother who put up with all his problems and who always treats him with kindness despite everything. he apologises and apologises until he falls asleep in your arms, and at that moment you shed a tear. 

you hate yourself for all the harsh things you say about him behind closed doors. you hate the way you thought of him as a nuisance because, god, he is the furthest thing from a nuisance. you hate the way you used to wish he wasn’t in your life because you realise that now you wouldn’t know how life would be without seeing his pretty face and his genuine joy to see you. 

you move him so that he can rest his head on a cushion – a feat in itself considering that he’s 73 kilograms of pure muscle – before making a phone call.

when he finally wakes, the first thing he sees is you. 

“you’re awake,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“sorry,” he responds, his eyes puffy and swollen, and you raise an eyebrow at his word as he pushes himself up from the couch so that his back was against the backrest. 

“you don’t need to apologise,” you chuckle, “anyway, i called osamu-san about what happened and he brought some food for you to eat.”

he’s silent, looking up at you, confusion clear in his eyes. why are you being so… nice to him?

“i thought you hated me,” he says bitterly, his gaze shifting to his hands. 

you falter, and you stop stirring the udon. “i… i’m sorry.” you look back at the pot, “i never… i never hated you.”

he scoffs in disbelief, “you did. i know you did.”

“i didn’t,” you respond firmly, moving to pour the udon into a large bowl, “i didn’t hate you. i think i hated the idea that you were using me, or something.” you sprinkle some spring onions over the udon before topping it up with an egg and the tempura that osamu helped you fry earlier. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? this entire thing is a game – a bet – to boost your ego.” he’s quiet as you talk, and you sigh in both frustration and regret. “but i never hated you. and i’m sorry that you felt like i did.”

you place the bowl in front of him on the coffee table, wiping your hands on your pants awkwardly. “um, yeah… i’m gonna clean up now so… call me when you need me, i guess.” 

“can you stay here?” atsumu asks suddenly, and you nod. 

“sure.”

*** 

despite all your protests and your pleas, you, osamu, and atsumu walk into the university gym four weeks later. well, it wasn’t so much walking for atsumu as it was wheeling him through the glass sliding doors. that was your condition for him to enter the gym: for him to sit in a wheel chair while you wheel him around. sure, wheeling around a man the size of atsumu isn’t what you would consider to be fun, but the doctor did call for at least six weeks off the injury, and you weren’t about to be scolded by a medical personnel. osamu tags along with you, saying that he wanted to ‘see his brother in his misery’. 

cheers and greetings from the team flood your ears, and you grin happily at all of them. of course, sakusa wastes no time in shooting sarcastic comments to atsumu, but you know that deep down he’s happy that his friend is doing okay with his injury. hinata and bokuto are beyond excited, high-fiving atsumu and telling him that they can’t wait for him to get back onto the court. meian scolds atsumu lightly for not taking care of himself, but he turns to you with a grateful smile. 

you smile at the scene, standing off to the side with a few other people as you watch everyone reconnect with their ‘long lost team member’ when you notice osamu’s face fall. his expression hardens and he narrows his eyes at the door. 

“osamu, what–”

one look at the gym doors is enough to make your heart fall as a tall girl stands at the entrance. it’s almost impossible to miss her – what, with her obnoxious outfit that doesn’t fit a university gym in the slightest – as she looks around the gym with a raised eyebrow. it’s only when she sees atsumu does her expression change into a ridiculous tear-stricken look, her eyebrows knitting together as her brilliant blue eyes well with tears. 

“atsumu!” she cries, and everyone turns around as her high-pitched voice enters their ears. 

meian blinks in confusion before turning to atsumu, whose face is now pale white before settling into a frown. 

“atsumu-san, who is that?”

“tachibana reina,” osamu scowls, stepping in front of his brother protectively. “what the hell are you doing here?”

tachibana sniffs before wiping a stray tear off from her cheek. “i heard that atsumu-chan was injured so i came right away!”

you grit your teeth, moving to stand beside the onigiri-maker. “he was injured four weeks ago. if you really did care, you would have at least called earlier.”

her expression shifts in an almost comical way, an eyebrow raising at you and she speaks as if you burned her. “who are you?”

“we could ask you the same question,” sakusa spits back, lifting his mask up to cover his face as he expresses his hostility. 

samson foster, the coach of msby, steps forward to meet with tachibana, and you can tell that he isn’t at all pleased. first of all, she decides to wear three-inch high heels into a gym, proceeds to jump herself onto an injured team member, and she didn’t even ask to visit from one of the team or staff members. 

you crouch beside atsumu so that you can look in his eyes as you ask him, “you want to go now?”

he swallows thickly, eyes flicking to where tachibana stands, before nodding. “yeah.” he looks away from you when he says it. 

“okay.”

you nod in acknowledgement to the rest of the team, osamu saying that he wanted to be with the team in hopes to diffuse the situation and in hopes of sending tachibana packing. sakusa raises an eyebrow at you and you smile reassuringly, mouthing the words, ‘i’ll text you later’, which he responds with a nod of his own. 

“she has some nerve,” you comment as you drive through the freeway. “coming all the way here, i mean. she’s already done so much to hurt you and she just pops in from out of the blue?” you scoff, shaking your head as you indicate left to reach the exit. “i’ve only met her for ten seconds and i already hate her. how did you even survive dating her for as long as you did?”

he chuckles from beside you, “i guess we all make bad dating mistakes.”

“she’s the worst.” you roll your eyes, pulling up to his driveway. “you have the patience of a fucking saint.”

you help him into his apartment, quietly hoping that the issue at the gym has been diffused. you doubt it, considering the stories atsumu has told you about his lying ex-girlfriend, but you had to hope for the best. 

“regardless of whether or not she actually cares for you, her actions were uncalled for.” you continue as you prop up your laptop on the coffee bench. “did you see osamu’s face?”

he laughs loudly, moving to sit closer next to you. “he has a dumb face.”

“you have the same face!” you cry out, clapping him on the shoulder. “anyway, i have an exam in a couple days, so hush.”

he shoots you another cheeky grin and you condemn the way your heart stutters in your chest.  

“anything you say, princess.”

*** 

“welcome back,” coach foster chuckles, clapping atsumu on the back as he walks into the gym. “your ankle all good? you went to all your rehab sessions, right?”

“o’course!” atsumu grins, stumbling a little from the force of the clap. “(Y/N) wouldn’t let me skip any even if i wanted to.”

bokuto snickers, “oh yeah, your girlfriend!”

atsumu chuckles at his friends words, waving them off. “nah, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“but you like her, right?” hinata is quick to respond, wiggling his brows. “even sakusa likes her!”

atsumu’s face morphs into a betrayed one as he wails teasingly, drooping and arm over his friend. “no, omi-omi, how could you do this to me?!”

“get off.” sakusa grumbles not unkindly. “you smell.”

“oi, i showered!”

while atsumu was living his life, you were tempted to stay at home for a week while your mourned. what exactly were you mourning though? simple: the fact that you were very much gaining feelings for miya atsumu. in other words, you were wallowing in your misery. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to let him win. 

“it’s really not that bad,” sakura offers, patting your head sympathetically. “i know it’s not ideal-”

“not ideal?” you demand, bringing your head up fro your pillows to glare at her. “this is, like, the worst thing that could happen!”

“i think you’re overreacting,” aneko offers from the otherside of the couch, rolling her eyes when your bury your face into the pillow in your arms again. 

“i’m not overreacting,” you groan, words muffled by the pillows. you lift your head up once again and you scrunch your face in frustration. “he’s- he’s- this entire thing is a game to him! he doesn’t even like me!”

“i really doubt that,” sakura says gently, rubbing your back. “i know it might seem like he’s an asshole, but he’s a really nice person.”

aneko snorts, “i don’t think you need to tell her that.”

“i hate you both!” you complain, flopping backwards in your agitation. “he’s going to break my heart.”

your friends exchange looks before aneko pipes up once again. “maybe you should talk to him about it.”

“as if!” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “he’s just going to rub it in my face.”

sakura squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “sweetie, i really don’t think he’d do that.”

“but you don’t know if he will or not!” you let out another scream into your pillow, tears prickling your eyes. “how could i be so- so- so stupid?!”

“you’re not being stupid. it’s normal to catch feelings and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. atsumu probably feels the same way.”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, right. he thought i hated him for the longest time.”

“but you made up for it,” aneko responds without missing a beat. “you literally stayed with him almost the entire time he was healing. and now, he’s back on the court doing better than ever.”

“not to mention the fact that you guys literally hang out every single day. it’s getting kind of lonely here,” sakura teases, ruffling your hair. “look, if atsumu doesn’t like you back, that just shows how much of a dick he is and is just a red flag avoided. it’s a win-win situation. you literally cannot lose.”

“she has a point, y’know,” aneko chuckles, “no matter what happens, you’d be the winner.”

“i guess so… ugh, why does this all have to be so confusing?”

“how about you tell him how you feel during his next game,” aneko suggests, pulling out her phone. “see, look, it says that they have a game next week. why don’t you tell him then?”

you nod, jumping to your feet in determination. “i can do this.”

***

you cannot do this.

there you sit on the last day of june, coincidentally also the last game of the season, palms hot and sweaty as you ruminate on whatever you’re going to do after the game is over. atsumu is performing as well as ever – sets dangerously accurate, serves powerful and as strategic as usual – and you can’t help the way your eyes are trained on him. it’s almost as if you couldn’t avert your eyes no matter how much you wanted to. even still, your heart is pounding in your chest (not because you were invested in the game) and you had half the mind to leave the stadium. only, that wasn’t an option because atsumu already spotted you in the crowd. why did you let your dumb friends convince you to do this?

the whistle sounds, bringing your out of your thoughts and you glance at the score board. 25 - 19, in favour of the jackals. both teams were filtering out of the gym as well as the spectators in the stands and you follow suit, squeezing through the throngs of people. you toss between leaving and staying again as you navigate through the crowds – maybe you can run from your problems? – only to quite literally run into your problem. 

an ugly squawk escapes your lips and you cringe internally. ‘how romantic,’ you scoff to yourself sarcastically as you rub your forehead. 

“oof, sorry, princess, are you okay?” atsumu steadies you in an instant, pushing your hair back to survey the damage. “no bruises?”

you let out an airy laugh. “no harm done. congrats on your win.”

he grins, winking, “anything for you, princess.” he pauses, looking you up and down. “what are you doing here?”

“nothing!” you reply quickly, and you kick yourself internally for being awkward. “uh… nothing.”

he hums in amusement, “so you only came here for the fun of it?”

you wonder how your roommates would react if you came back to the flat still single. would it be worth leaving right now? you’re only delaying the inevitable, you hear aneko’s voice in your head and you cringe because you can imagine her saying it in that disappointed motherly voice she uses. you can imagine sakura nodding beside her, giving you a look that screamed you’re a right idiot.

“i wanted to talk to you,” you find yourself saying, wringing your hands in anxiety. “you should change first. and shower.”

he throws his head back and laughs. “yeah, i’ll see you in a bit.”

a bit passes by quicker than expected with sakusa kiyoomi leaving the changing room’s first and nodding at you in respect, followed by hinata and bokuto who grin wildly and pat you on the shoulder before meeting their respective rides (you recognise one to be kageyama tobio, the setter for another volleyball team but the other is equally as attractive with dark hair and glasses framing his blue eyes). the rest of the team emerges from the showers, chattering away and obviously pumped about their win. you hear someone – their captain? – yell about drinks to which the remaining people there agree heartily, but you feel an arm rest on your shoulder.

“sorry, guys, but i have plans with this lovely lady. maybe next time!” he grins, propping his sports bag securely on his shoulder before walking you out.

“i- wait, ‘tsumu, if you have plans-”

his smile widens at the nickname and his hand moves to rest at your waist. “i do have plans! with you!”

your cheeks burn at his words and you laugh in response. you glance at him from the corner of your eye and he seems to be at ease. his hand brushes against yours for a seconds and you swallow thickly – are you reading too much into things? a breath escapes your lips as the two of you walk around the city, the moon appearing from behind some clouds as you do. for someone who was just running around wildly on a court, atsumu was certainly energetic. 

“remember this place?” he asks, moving to stand between you and the road. 

you only just realise your surroundings and you chuckle once you see the all too familiar street you were currently standing on. “of course i do.”

he laughs, throwing his head back, and you think it’s one of the nicest sounds you’ve ever heard. 

the towering building that holds the renowned ise sueyoshi looms over the two of you, and you can’t help but feel nostalgic. the bright lights of the building shines through the windows and you can see the pale orange light against the inky blue sky. the kanji for the building is lit up in bright yellow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the line was still long at this time of night. 

a short walk later and you’re back at aoyama bridge, the cherry blossoms blowing gently through the wind. a few other people are scattered around the bridge, mostly couples holding hands save for the odd jogger or two. the walk was short – less than ten minutes – and you’re grateful for the fresh air. you rest your arms against the rails of the bridge, enjoying the cool air against your skin. atsumu stands beside you, his back against the rails and his bag on the floor.

“i wanted to talk to you,” you say finally after long moments of silence. you glance at your watch: ten minutes to midnight. 

he quirks an eyebrow, turning his head to look at you fully. “what’s up?”

a breath leaves your lips as your wring your hands nervously over the railing. you look up at him with a small smile. “i like you.”

you expect him to laugh. to gloat in your face. to point and laugh and call you stupid. or maybe to run away with his tail between his legs. you expect him to stare at you in disgust and in annoyance, to roll his eyes and spit at your feet. you don’t, however, expect him to take a step towards you and cup your face with his warm calloused hands. you don’t, as much as you hoped, expect him to press his lips to yours, holding your gently as if you were porcelain. you don’t expect him to bring you closer to his chest, burying his head into your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. but atsumu miya is full of surprises. 

“i like you, too.” he mumbles, and you shiver from the way his breath brushes over the skin on your neck. 

your heart is thundering in your chest and the blood rushes to your ears. “what?”

he laughs, bringing his head back up to look you in the eye. “i like you, too.”

one hand cups your cheek and the other pulls you in from your waist and he kisses you again. you pull away for air, cheeks warm and head spinning. 

“yeah?”

another laugh. “of course i do, princess.” then he grins, “be my girlfriend? ya can’t say no.”

confusion enters your mind before it dawns on you. you glance at your watch – 11:59 pm. you gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find something to say.

“i guess we both lose,” you say finally, rolling your eyes after you calm down. 

he chuckles, taking your hand. “i’d say we’re both winners.”

you smile at his words. “couldn’t stand my charm, could you, miya?”

“as if!” he yells, snorting. “you fell for my charms, too!”

you stick your tongue out and swing your arms. “whatever you say, sweet cheeks.”

he kisses your cheek. “i do say, princess.”

you hum, breathing in the cool night air as you walk. “what do you think, ‘tsumu? waste of a lovely night?”

“absolutely not, princess.”

quick trivia:

ise sueyoshi: a real restaurant found in tokyo, japan. a high end restaurant that specialises in traditional japanese food.

aoyama bridge: a real bridge in tokyo, japan. approximate 9 minute walk from ise sueyoshi and is actually a tourist destination.

reblogs are always appreciated!

[renadosia]

Cafe Beside The Sea - Masterpost

— pairing: (Seokjin x reader)

— genre; Selkie AU, strangers to lovers, fluff, romance.

summary: You were just trying to do your job. You really didn’t mean to propose to a selkie. There was no way you could’ve known. So when he starts trying to court you- (dumping things from the beach on your front porch) you’re clueless. And when he starts to show up everywhere- (showing up at your work, trying to start conversations, while you’re working) you’re clueless. And when he finally breaks and says it to your face- (gets drunk and refuses to go with anyone but you, sobbing) well, you’re a little less clueless then.

— warnings/content: none

Chapter one - Furry Coats and Misconceptions

summary; You return a coat to the strange customer that he accidentally left behind. Seokjin receives a marriage proposal from the pretty waitress that took his order. Both are oblivious.

Chapter two - 15% complete, currently writing.

Chapter three -

Chapter four -

Chapter five -

Chapter six -

(1/6?)

— Extra;

A03 version - link to CBTS posted on archive of our own.

Dividers - The dividers used on this Masterpost and subsequently this series, were all made by @cafekitsune !! All credit on this front is naturally, given to them. Link to the post of theirs it’s from is here !!

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The return of your best friend was something that made your heart flutter and beat to the rhythm of his words, but there he was, framed before you like the mountain peaks of your small town, and he had a secret — a secret that would change everything.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ 3.3k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☘︎ Light angst, copious amounts of fluff (literally and figuratively) ჻჻჻ TROPES: Idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☘︎ You all know me by now, so this shouldn't be a surprise.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ☘︎ Tidal Wave (Acoustic) by Old Sea Brigade

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆��𝒆𝒏𝒕 ☘︎ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse ����𝟭 — Lumberjack AU — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The air was crisp with freshly fallen snow, and the mountain peaks in the backdrop of your small town were dusted with a coat of white – a picturesque view for the drive to work, with the heaters of your truck on full blast, of course. 

Music played quietly over the speakers as you hummed along, content and happy for the opportunistic day. Business had been booming. Your shop had turned into quite the hive of activity in the past few weeks from the season change – spring was on the way, and with it, came endless possibilities. 

It also meant that James would be setting out to start work for the busiest period of the year, given the blistering winter that had hammered your small town left the woods treacherous and dangerous, even for a man of his skill and wit. 

A lumberjack’s work was never easy.

Your shop – a perfect mix of a bakery, cafe, and bookstore – came into view as you turned the corner, the snow tires of your old truck crunching over the road. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon so the warm tones of the wood frames of the outside looked bleak. “Need to get some hardy vines…” you mumbled, pulling into your parking space. 

“Morning, babe,” a voice called. You looked up from your keys to find Wanda – the town’s florist, and your best friend. 

“Hey, you,” you returned, smiling happily. The click of the door lock sounded and you looked down to check it. “I can’t wait for this chill to be gone. How’re you?”

Wanda chuckled. “Same old, same old.” 

There was a sly smirk on her lips when you glanced up again, and you narrowed your eyes. “What are you planning? I know that look.”

“Bucky is coming into town today, or so, the rumours say…”

“Oh my god,” you grumbled. “Not again. Yes, I know. And I am looking forward to seeing him.”

“Maybe you could–?”

You sighed heavily, knowing all too well what she was implying – having fallen head over heels for the mountain of a brooding bear that was your best friend. “No, Wands. I don’t want to lose what I have all because I can’t get my head outta the clouds, you know that. Besides, I am also looking forward to seeing my babies, Koda and Sarge.”

Wanda hummed happily. “I do miss those balls of fluff. You make sure you give them kisses from me, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Have a good day, babe.” You waved goodbye as Wanda turned to walk down the street to her shop. 

The lights flicked on and your little slice of heaven came to life. Warm lights blazed over the earthy tones of browns and greens spread over the interior – golden spines of books shone, and the reflection of light on the glass display made you feel at home. Even though it had only been a few hours since you were last in your shop, coming back to it was like a tight, comforting hug. 

“Let’s get this day started, huh?” You said happily, taking off your coat and switching on the heater, all the while walking towards the counter. 

An hour later, the shop was filled with the smell of freshly baking bread, and the sweet smell of breakfast pastries. Coffee was brewing and the morning rush had just started – and your first customer? Steve, Bucky’s best friend. 

“Hey, love,” Steve greeted, his hair packed under a dark blue beanie while his broad chest was covered in red plaid. His smile was contagious and unusually bright, and you couldn’t help but beam back at the bearded lumberjack. “How’ve you been? Keepin’ warm?”

“Stevie,” you breathed, rounding the corner of the counter to pull him into a tight embrace. “I have been great, keeping busy.” Pulling back, you moved back behind the counter and began the process of making his usual order. “How about you? How is Cap?”

“Causin’ trouble as always,” Steve said fondly, shaking his head. “The ball of fluff is in my truck, waitin’ ever impatiently for his puppacino.”

“Wait.” You paused in making Steve’s order to stare at him incredulously. “You brought my boy all the way here, and yet, you’re making him wait in the car.” The look on Steve’s face bled sheepishness, a sharp contrast to his goofy nature, but you didn’t let up. “Steven Grant–you get out that door and you bring that good boy into my shop.”

If Steve had a tail, it would have been pulled between his legs as he slunk out the door to his truck. Not even a moment later, the barking of an over-excited Cap could be heard over Steve’s yell of, “Easy, boy! Down!” 

The door of your shop swung open, and a giant ball of fur bounded your way, tongue lolling, and black and white coat moving with his powerful muscles. “Cap!” you yelled, falling to your knees to greet the Malamute. “Hey, boy! Oh my gosh, look atchu!”

“It’s like you didn’t see him the other damn day,” Steve said, a ghost of a laugh in his words. “Drama queens, the pair a’you.”

“Don’t you dare insult my boy, Rogers,” you huffed, squishing Cap’s cheeks. The Malamute only opened his mouth in what could be perceived as one big smile. “He is precious, and for that, he is getting an extra treat.”

After sending Steve and Cap on their way, the morning rush began in earnest as the sun rose in the sky – casting yellow rays through the big windows that lined the front of your shop. People flocked to and fro on the sidewalk outside, stopping in for a steaming hot beverage or a sweet treat, and you felt at ease, falling into routine like a well oiled machine. 

It was only when it hit nine o’clock did the hustle and bustle pass, and you worked at a more sedate pace. The display case of baked treats was considerably much emptier than when you opened for the day, and you grabbed two trays full of cookies to restock for the imminent lunch rush, when the bell sounded at the door.

You smiled and turned to greet the customer, only to freeze; the air in your lungs evaporating into nothing at the sight silhouetted by the sun. 

“James,” you rushed, eyes wide, and smile even wider. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

The mountain that was your best friend stood in the doorway, a small smile on his full lips as he looked at you with such softness it turned your legs to jelly. His big boots were covered by black jeans that hugged his thighs, a dark blue and black plaid jacket stretched over his wide shoulders, and his long hair fell down in a swoop under his upturned collar. 

Bucky opened his arms wide. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, tone gravelly and eyes bright. “Need my Clover to come an’ gimme a hug.”

The trays lay abandoned on the display, and you ran to Bucky, giggling all the way and colliding with his chest. “Oof!” He grunted, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and lower back. “Fuck, it’s good to see you, sweetheart. How have you been, huh?”

“Good, good! It’s been so lonely without you here!” you gushed, pulling back to look at him. He had a dark shadow of a beard on his jaw, and his smile framed his handsome face perfectly. “How was the scouting? How are you?”

Bucky gave you one last squeeze and threw an arm over your shoulder, walking you to a couch in the reading nook in the back corner. “It was boring, as usual–should be ready to start this logging season. And I’m good, Sarge and Koda missed you, too. Almost as much as I did.”

“Oh, my babies,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his middle so you could squeeze him tightly. “Alright, sit down and I’ll knock somethin’ together for you.”

“You betcha,” Bucky said. The couch creaked under him and he groaned loudly. “Fuck, this couch is my favourite fuckin’ thing–”

“I thought I was,” you interrupted, pouting at him. Bucky laughed. 

The hiss of the coffee machine filled the comfortable silence, when you realised something. “Wait, where are my babies, James?” Bucky froze on the couch, and eyed you apprehensively – the action made you put your hands on your hips and stare at him pointedly. “Where are my babies?” you asked again.

“I left them in the truck because I needed a damn minute of silence, and Iwantedyoutomyselfforaminute…” The last part was a rushed mumble, and you blinked.

“Wait, what?”

“Nothin’,” Bucky hastily said, and he stood from the couch. Another loud groan left his lips as he stretched – if you stared while his eyes were closed, that was your business. “I’ll go get ‘em.”

“Good, you do that, mister,” you huffed. “Coming in here without my babies. No wonder why you and Stevie are best friends.”

The comment made a loud howl of laughter to leave Bucky as he opened the door, and walked out. You shook your head fondly and made a round of two puppuccinos – extra large. 

“Sarge, heel. Good boy–no, Koda, baby, ah, fuck it,” Bucky rambled from just outside the shop, and you watched through the window as two giant balls of fur ran around his legs, bounding and yipping for all their worth. “Yes, you’re seein’ her! Calm down, easy.”

You laughed and strode around the corner to take a seat on the couch that Bucky had occupied just moments before – the two dogs that would burst through that door any second would have no qualms on bowling you over if you knelt on the wooden floor. 

“Alright, goddamn it, guys,” Bucky groaned, fending off paws and wet noses. “I open this door, and you two better be on your best behaviour.” Two loud barks answered his words, and the door flew open with a clatter of the bell. 

The same two balls of fur and fluff barrelled into the (thankfully, empty) shop, looking around for their friend, until they spotted you at last. “My babies!” 

You were lost in a flurry of black, white, and brown fur. “Oh my gosh, yesyesyes,” you gasped, shaking your head side to side to abate the worst of the incessant licks to your face. “Hi babies! Oh, lookatchu!”

A quiet chuckle sounded from above you, and you opened your eyes to find Bucky looming over you, phone in hand. “Are you recording my death–my death by fur and fluffiness?”

“Yep,” Bucky replied, grinning. “Gotta give somethin’ to everyone to remember you by.”

You rolled your eyes and attempted to sit up, though it was impossible with Koda laying over you, and Sarge hogging your legs. “Barnes, help me.”

“Nope.” He smirked, plopping down on the couch, right next to your head. “You can stay there for a lil’ while longer, darlin’.”

“You are the worst,” you groaned. “These babies are heavy. Fine. I will be crushed and it’ll be your fault.” 

Bucky only shrugged and slid down the couch cushions, then he gently moved your head so you could rest it on his thigh. “Thank you,” you hummed, and Bucky smiled, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

Silence fell between you two – the comfortable kind that was shared so often when you both were just content to be in one another’s presence. 

“I’ve fuckin’ missed you, Clover,” Bucky mumbled, and his hand moved to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek gently, lovingly. The rough skin of his hand was warm and it made something clunk in your mind – you could only hope it wouldn’t show on your face. “So damn much. I hate goin’ scoutin’–rather be home, here.”

You looked up at Bucky from your vantage point – his upside down face and thoughtful gaze, a small frown on his lips. 

“I know, I know, Jamie. I know,” you whispered soothingly back, running one hand through Koda’s black fur, and moving the other one to rest over Bucky’s. “But you’re here now, you know I will always wait for you–you’re my best friend.”

The small frown turned into a fond smile. “Luckiest fella, I am. Havin’ a sweetheart like you to call his–”

Your heart seized. The words, while you knew they didn’t mean what you hoped for, still hit like a punch to the guts, and it was an effort to keep your face blank and void of the realisation. You wanted Bucky, and for much more than just a best friend. 

“–Girl, huh? Why don’t we get an early lunch, darlin’?”

“I own the best cafe, James.” 

Bucky laughed at your comment and shook his head. “I didn’t say we couldn’t have lunch here, you dork. Why don’t you make it to go, and we take my truck out to the clearin’?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, you brought a basket to the counter and pointed to it. “Lunch, and you get to carry it because it is heavy.”

“You just want an excuse to see me be a man, sweetheart,” Bucky teased, and you narrowed your eyes. 

“Shut up, you idiot. Now, c’mon,” you urged, “I gotta be back for the actual lunch rush.”

Bucky saluted and took the aforementioned basket, only for his eyes to widen. “The hell you pack in this? Bricks?”

“I packed for Koda and Sarge,” you said simply, shrugging one shoulder. The two dogs ran to the door after Bucky, and you followed, your heart in your throat. 

The drive to the clearing was pleasant, if only chilly – but it gave you the excuse to steal one of Bucky’s good jackets from the back seat. He only rolled his eyes and pulled into a parking spot. “Sure, you can use one,” he said, “Don’t want my darlin’ gettin’ cold now, do I?”

“No,” you replied smugly. “Thank you.”

Bucky snorted and opened the door, sliding out. “Koda, Sarge, c’mon.” The two dogs jumped from the car and bounded into the trees, kicking grass and snow up in their wake. 

Something felt off, however – a sense of impending something was hanging tantalisingly over your head. Something was going to happen, and you had no idea what it could have been. You swallowed thickly, and opened your door to exit the warm cabin of Bucky’s truck. “It’s not that bad out here, thank god,” you commented.

It was the truth. The sun had warmed the chill in the air to be bearable, and while the snow hadn’t fully melted just yet, it was stunningly pretty to see the light bounce off crisp white mounds – that both Koda and Sarge barrelled through, their coats becoming covered in the soft snow. 

“Sure is pretty,” Bucky affirmed, smiling at you – and the feeling of apprehension doubled in intensity. “Let’s dig in, I’m starvin’.”

“One thing we can agree on,” you hummed, walking to a picnic table under a gazebo. “I packed extra because you are a garbage disposal.” 

“Hey!” Bucky chided. “Ain’t my fault that I’m a growin’ man, alright?”

You raised a brow and stared at him, and then you broke into a fit of laughter as Bucky scowled. “You’re not wrong, Jamie–you look like a bear on steroids. Have you been weightlifting trees?”

It was Bucky’s turn to laugh. “Well, it’s my job, sweetheart, kinda have to lift them somehow.”

You shrugged. “I dunno, I would have thought you wrestled with a bear, considering you’re one of ‘em now.” The urge to repeat the joke you had made with him became overwhelming. “You could say… you’re a Bucky Bear.”

“Ha ha,” Bucky deadpanned, reaching for the basket. “Real funny, Clover–real funny.”

The meal passed in spurs of conversation – you caught Bucky up on the gossip of the town and what Wanda had been up to, and then Bucky caught you up on Steve and Sam’s ventures on site, or how they wouldn’t stop teasing him about a situation that he refused to divulge. 

“So,” you began, watching Bucky’s flickering gaze, and how his hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. “What did Stevie and Sam tease you for?” Taking a bite of your lunch, you chewed slowly, growing increasingly intrigued by Bucky’s show of nerves. 

“Y’know, normal shit,” Bucky said evasively, “they were bein’ assholes, like usual.”

Deciding to poke the bear, you probed further. “Doesn’t sound like it’s nothing, Jamie. Do I gotta tell them boys off?”

“No,” Bucky rushed, flushing slightly. “No, I got it.”

“Uh-huh,” you drawled, narrowing your eyes. Bucky was fidgeting something fierce, his usual aloof and charming aura had vanished – replaced with something akin to what he was like as a nervous teenager. “Jamie… are you alright?”

Bucky looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and he swallowed. “Clover, if you had-” His brows furrowed, like he was considering, or regretting, his words. “If you had the chance to tell the one–the one, would you do it? Tell them, or- Or ask them out?”

“Oh,” you said immediately. The question made the air in your lungs leave in a sweep – it was happening, Bucky had found someone. “Um, I-I,” you faltered, and you cleared your throat while placing your lunch down on the paper wrapping. “I, uh- Yeah. Yeah I would. Why?”

Something flashed across Bucky’s eyes and your stomach twisted. It was almost too much to bear. 

“Well,” Bucky said slowly, his hand twitching on the table, like he wanted to move it but couldn’t. “Clover, darlin’–uh, would you-”

Two loud barks cut him off and Koda, followed by Sarge, ran up to Bucky and pawed at his thighs. “Really? Now?” Bucky grit out. He fished through the basket and split a large dog biscuit. “Now go on, get.”

“You were saying?” you chuckled, watching the dogs run off with their trophy. 

Bucky flushed a deeper pink, and he tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. His hand that had twitched just before reached across the table, open. Automatically, you took it, knowing he must need the comfort – hell, you needed it yourself, your heart was hammering so hard it felt like a rib was breaking. Whatever he was going to say was obviously hard, but you would take it and help him, he was your best friend. 

“Would you wanna be- God fuckin’ damn, why is this so hard,” he cursed, frowning.

“Take your time, Bucky, baby, you’re okay,” you soothed, rubbing your thumb over his scarred knuckles. “I’m here, and I don’t mind waiting. You say it when you’re ready.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart fracture – surely he would only be acting this way if-

“Would you wanna be my Clover? My girl?”

What?

“Wait- What? Did you- Did you just–?” you floundered. Shock cascaded through every fibre of your being, and you watched as Bucky stared at you, almost imploringly. “Hang on, hang on.” 

“Okay,” Bucky whispered, his hand squeezing yours once.

You took a singular second to think about what he had just asked. After all this time, after all that pining, the teasing from Sam and Steve must have been about you. It must have been about how- But that meant Bucky was serious. And… “Oh my god. Yes,” you blurted, staring into his eyes. “Yes–fuck, Jamie, I have–”

“I knew.”

“What?” you squeaked, terrified you had been far too obvious. 

“I knew that I, uh- Liked you, sweetheart,” he admitted, smiling sheepishly. “I just… didn’t know how to approach it ‘till the assholes cornered me on site, demanding to know why the fuck I looked like a loon–smiling at nothing, when I was remembering you.”

A heavy breath left your lips, trembling only slightly. “So that’s why Stevie came into my shop this morning, smiling so big! After all this time,” you wondered out loud. “Just- Wow. Wow.” 

“Well, now,” he began, chuckling quietly when his much larger hand engulfed yours. “Now I have my own lil’ four leaf clover.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[mimising]

Summer with stranger | Carlos Sainz

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Carlos x (she)reader

Little angsty with sweet savoury.

--- It's my first time to write something like this. I have NO idea what I'm actually doing. Do enjoy if it's enjoyable.

---

“Please don’t cry.” Her head sifted from her hands. Big watery eyes looked up to him. He squatted down in front of her. “What’s the matter? Who made a pretty girl like you cry?” She sniffed. “Some arsehole.” The girl took a closer look at a man in front of her. His skin was golden brown, fluffy hair sat just right. Only she couldn’t look the man in the eyes. 

 Carlos put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ve heard that hugs make everything go away. Would you like to try it out?” His voice sounded sincere. She didn’t say anything but sifted her hands. That was all he needed to see and took the girl in his arms. One hand caressed her hair while the other held her tight against his chest. Head pressed against his neck and shoulder. He could feel her warmth and heartbeat. Tears started to slowly soak his shirt. Her smell was divine. 

 Slowly the girl started to feel a sense of comfort. The arsehole was forgotten for a minute. She felt safe. Although her nose was blocked from the crying she could smell his strong cologne wrapping her in a heavenly space. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Suddenly the comfort was gone and cold reality was back. The girl nodded. “Ye-yeah, I would like that.” 

He stood up and held his hand out to her. This was the first time she really looked up and saw the man's eyes. Soft brown eyes which matched with his fluffy hair. 

“I was on my way to the beach. If you're interested then we could go there for a swim.” He did have a towel on his other shoulder. “I don’t have a towel.” All she could come up with. The part where she didn’t really know how to swim was left out. “No need to worry about that. They must have plenty to rent.” 

If he hadn’t been so sweet she would have declined but for some reason she just couldn’t. “You are right. Will figure something out.” She smiled at him and looked away when their eyes met. Blood rushed to her cheeks. 

As they walked he asked if she was local but learning that she was just visiting and didn’t know much about the city did he start talking about the beauty of it. She enjoyed listening about cafes to visit and roads to walk through. 

The girl was quiet and he didn’t even know her name. “You are visiting for the first time. Is there a particular reason why here or?” 

“I was meant to pay a visit to my boyfr- ex’s summer house. Things took a darker turn and now I’m just here to leave.” “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-” “It’s completely fine. I should be the one apologizing and thanking.”

They walked side by side, almost close enough to hold hands. Occasionally catching sights of each other.  Her face started to light up. Teares long forgotten. 

The sand was warm under their feet. She soaked in all the warmth and hid the fear of the sea with smiling. 

“I never got your name..” As he was taking off his shirt he said “Carlos. Carlos Sainz. And you?” For a second the dictionary was forgotten. The man was ripped. She couldn’t stop blushing. After saying her name she held out her hand. He snickers but shakes it. Even his hand was twice her size. 

He tried to be polite and not check her out. What a naive idea. She looked like heaven. Her skin white like the milky way. It didn’t go unnoticed by her.“I’m from a colder area. That’s why my skin is so light.” He took a sharp turn to the sea. 

 “Run to the sea?” She really would have liked to run the other way. Without saying anything she started running to the sea instead. He was hot on her tail. “I’ll catch you, you little-!” 

 She cried out when he caught up with her. Easily running past. She cried out with laughter while adding speed. 

 Once in water, she slowed down. He went head into the water. She stayed back and watched. When Carlos didn’t see her beside him and almost on the shore he screamed “oh no, you are coming in the water!” And swam back to her. “Nono, I’m happy right here.” 

 Carlos didn’t slow down which concerned her and she tried to run back. “You are not going anywhere!” Playfully he pulled her into the water. The water was only to her hips but scared her nevertheless. She screamed with horror and held onto him with her dear life. 

 He pulled the girl against him. “Everything is ok. You are safe with me. I won’t let you get any deeper, cariño.” She caught her breathing back and opened her eyes. 

 “Are you scared of the sea? You should have told me.” Lustful face was washed from his face and replaced with concern. “I didn’t want to ruin your plans. Already ruined your shirt with some mascara.” He chuckled. “This is the least of my problems.” 

 Her hands were still holding tight around his neck. Eyes roaming to his lips. They looked so kissable at this distance. 

 “Actually I have to confess something.” “Go on.” She looked away. “I don’t know how to swim.”

He took her chin into his hand and made her face him. “Then I can teach you. Maybe the sea isn't the best place to start but some other day. For example a pool. How does that sound?” She nodded. “The pool it is then. But right now we can just stand here and feel the warm water. If that’s fine with you.” Once again she nodded. 

 They stayed like this for a few more seconds when she realized their position. Her hands let go of his neck. He cleared his voice. The hands slid away quickly. 

 “You’ve helped me out a lot today. Would you like to grab some lunch together?” She had tried herself with his towel and was putting clothes back on. Carlos tried himself with the same towel. It felt a little erotic to know that just minutes ago the fabric ran against her smooth skin. 

 “Sure. I can take us to somewhere nice.” His meaning of nice ment somewhere fancy at first but the woman didn’t seem to know who he was and he’d love to keep it that way for as long as he can.  “That would be smart. I only ever visited a few places where they mostly served coffee and sweets.”  

 As they were both dressed, they took a turn back to the town. Sun was burning extra bright and finding a shelter with a cooler seemed mandatory. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” She turned around, looking at him. “Uh, to tell you the truth, not really. I mean, I can afford one more night at the hotel but that’s it. And my booked flight isn’t until next week.” 

 She had forgotten all about her ex and her situation. But the weight was back on her shoulders. He saw the change on her face and regretted immediately what he had asked. “If you’d like, you could stay at my place until your flight back home. Not that I have a big apartment here but some arrangements could be done.” First it sounded a little too good and creepy to her. She had known Carlos for only… a few hours. In reality it felt much longer. And she didn’t have a plan B. Maybe he isn’t trying to kidnap her for her organs and genuinely felt sorry for her. 

 “If I did take your offer, what would you like back? There are no free lunches as they say.” She was shivering. Carlos thought for a minute. He just didn’t want her to go just yet. Moments where someone didn’t know him were rare. She as a person felt rare. “You come to me to the pool to learn how to swim.” First thing that came to his mind. She laughed. “That's beneficial to me. What about you? I could do your laundry for that time period or run errands.” 

 Carlos didn’t need those things to be taken care of. He did enjoy doing them himself after a long season. Just something a normal human can do. “I guess you could help out but I do enjoy doing these things myself.” 

 As she was throwing ideas at him and Carlos tried to decline, they had reached main streets. He had a particular smaller business in his mind where to take her. “Right this way. Even Though it’s out of the main street, the food is delicious.” 

 He stopped in front of a big old door that didn’t have any signs near it. “That? Are you sure? I don’t see any-” she was saying before he opened the door. “Yes, ladies first.” Carlos smirked as she stepped in. The interior was mind blowing. High ceilings, huge windows with a view to the sea. You couldn’t really see it all from the grand entry. 

 “Table for two please.” said Carlos and the waitress took them to one next to a window. Carlos held her chair like a gentelman. “I’ll be right back with your menus. Would you like something to drink?” She sounded sweet but held back for some reason. “Some water with lemon. Is that fine with you?” Carlos was asking that from his companion. “Of course.” Waitress nodded and went away. 

 “This place looks way too fancy. Look at the wallpaper they have. This is either Jane Claytons or I don’t know…” Carlos was a little shocked. He had a wide grin. “How or why do you know about wallpapers?” He was genuinely interested. “I'm a little into interior design and just like to know about history and products.”  Carlos put his elbows on the tabbed and held his head in his hands. 

 She told him more about her interests and job back in the other country. He would occasionally ask one or two things about her work. Finally the waitress came with water and menus. She told them about today's dishes and left. 

 The food was not on the cheaper side and made her anxious. How could she say no if she had asked him to choose the restaurant. She’ll live off noodles for the next few months. Nothing new really. 

 She had chosen the cheapest dish from the menu. Carlos had noticed that.“You know, if you’re concerned about the food then don’t be. It’s on me. Choose whatever you like.” She shook her head. “Mkm, no way. You have helped a lot today. The food is on me.” This went on back and forth til their food arrived. Carlos had convinced her in some circumstance–she would pay for the ice cream after lunch. 

“I haven’t allowed myself a cheat day in a while. Thank you for the ice cream.” He was one of those who bite his ice cream instead of licking. She was licking it. While she did that Carlos would glimpse looks. They were walking without a destination. Mostly him showing her around the town while talking about facts about thing or two. ---

Part 2

[romione-trope-fest]

Six Weasley Weddings

Fic Title: Six Weasley Weddings

Author Name: Be11atrixthestrange

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Brief Summary: Ron and Hermione attend six different Weasley weddings

Word Count: 7290

Rating: M

Any Trigger Warnings: NA

---

Bill + Fleur, August 1997

The Burrow grounds had never looked so tidy. From his seat in a golden chair next to Hermione and a polyjuice-disguised Harry, Ron admired the detailed and glamorous decorations that the family spent hours setting up. Gold balloons lined the rows of seats, and a large arch of twinkling lights highlighted the altar, where his brother, Bill Weasley stood awaiting his bride.

The hard work of wedding preparations had paid off; Ron could tell by the sea of smiling faces in the crowd as everyone stood and turned to face the back of the tent in anticipation of Fleur’s grand entrance. Ron followed suit and rose to his feet as he squinted through the lights to catch a glimpse of the bride. 

But when the tent flap opened and Fleur emerged, his eyes went elsewhere — to his brother standing at the altar. Hermione once told him that she always looked back at the groom at weddings, because he could never hide the emotion on his face when seeing his bride for the first time. She was right. Bill’s eyes had glazed over with tears and his face burned as red as the Gryffindor crest.

There was a time when Ron and his brothers would make fun of each other for crying, but that time had long since passed. These days it was a relief to see his eldest sibling shamelessly showing emotion. But Bill had always been like that, not oblivious to what his younger brothers thought, just unbothered. Ron remembered when Fred and George would pick on him for his fear of spiders, and Bill would look at them with pity, as if he knew something they didn’t. 

And honestly, he probably did, not that it mattered. He was the one standing at the altar awaiting his half-veela bride, and although his face was murky with emotion, nothing suggested he felt undeserving. At the end of the aisle stood a confident man who was more than ready for his future. 

As Fleur progressed down the aisle, Ron looked beside him. Hermione’s eyes welled with tears as she watched the bride. She looked like a Veela herself in that dress, or at least she had the same effect. He recalled his fourth year antics when he completely lost his cool around Veelas, and the overwhelming feeling that he’d never get a girl like that. He still felt that way now, looking at Hermione. And he did get a girl like that. Well, almost.

He still had work to do for that task, and the only way forward was to squash that lingering insecurity. 

TIme to take a lesson from Bill, who’d never felt insecure a day in his life. Ron reached for Hermione’s hand and slipped his fingers through hers. She responded with a squeeze. 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered to her, feeling the heat rise to his ears.

Hermione glanced at Fleur then back at Ron with an eyebrow raised. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Ron. “Gorgeous.”

Hermione smiled and tugged him closer. He shuffled closer to her and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Thank you. You clean up nice too.”

Ron’s ears remained on fire, but the rest of him relaxed a little. And for some reason, it didn’t feel remotely uncomfortable to stand this close to his best friend. Not one bit. 

Percy + Audrey, June 1999

The open bar at Percy and Audrey’s wedding was a surprise to Ron, as neither the groom or the bride seemed like the type to regularly imbibe. But Ron was open to being proven wrong. He sat at the bar with a Butterbeer in hand, sipping away while he watched the party around him. Percy and Audrey had chosen to get married at a vineyard not far from the Burrow, and the grounds bore a striking resemblance to Ron’s childhood home. The ceremony had taken place underneath a pergola, which had now been converted to a dance floor. Chic cafe tables surrounded the bar, illuminated by the glistening sun at dusk which cast golden streaks of light across the rolling hills. There was even a small pond that shimmered in the late afternoon sun and a dock where the wedding party posed for photos earlier. 

It felt strange to be at a celebration, even a whole year after the war. Enjoying the music, dancing, and drinking seemed wrong somehow, and he couldn’t help but think that everyone was putting on a face, pretending to have fun, because that’s what you were supposed to do at weddings. Ron glanced to the dance floor and watched Bill and Fleur swirling around, dancing a little too slowly for the beat of the current song. His own parents sat at a table not too far, their expressions a strange mixture of pride and grief. They looked toward the pond, and Ron followed their eyeline to find George sitting out on the dock, his feet submerged into the water. 

His heart fell to his stomach. George had spent the better part of a year as a shell of himself, always working at the shop, and rarely coming by for Sunday dinners at the Burrow. Seeing him down at the dock broke Ron’s heart. 

But he wasn’t alone. The piercing sunlight and glare from the water muddied his vision, but Ron squinted and watched George lift an arm and drape it around someone’s shoulders. 

Angelina. 

A smile flashed across Ron’s face when Angelina laid her head on George’s shoulder. 

Upon second thought, it wasn’t too surprising. George and Angelina had been spending a lot of time together as of late. She even picked up a few shifts at the shop in her spare time. Ron had assumed that they were just friends like they’d always been, but maybe something had changed over the last year. Shared grief could do that. 

As if to confirm Ron’s suspicion, George turned toward Angelina and pressed a kiss to her temple. Angelina must have said something funny, because the moment George broke contact, he threw his head back and laughed. 

It had been a whole year since Ron had seen George laugh.

“Come and dance?”

Ron tore his focus away from the dock to find Hermione standing next to him. He grinned upon hearing the words he’d thoughtlessly spluttered to her nearly two years before, at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. 

“Of course,” he said before downing the last sip of his Butterbeer. He stood up, reached for her hand, and headed toward the dance floor. 

Once under the pergola, Ron wrapped Hermione up in his arms. It felt so much more comfortable than before. 

“Remember last time?” she asked, as if reading his mind. 

“Of course,” said Ron. The moment played in his mind frequently, but she didn’t need to know that he still heard their conversation as if it were yesterday, wondering what he could have said to sound smoother, cooler, and less like he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. 

“I really wanted you to kiss me last time,” she admitted. 

Ron smiled. The war was over. George was laughing. And finally, Ron could publicly kiss Hermione. 

“I really wanted to kiss you too. And now I can.” 

With that, Ron pulled her closer. Their lips met and her arms tangled around his neck. Ron let himself get lost in Hermione, ignoring any looks from fellow wedding guests, and squashing any embarrassment that he might have felt two years prior.  He buried any shame he felt for radiating happiness too soon. At that moment the world seemed to stop, and it didn’t matter that they weren’t alone. It didn’t matter that they weren’t supposed to be happy. 

They were happy, and this was all just one more step forward. 

Harry + Ginny, March 2001

“What do you mean there’s no harp player?” Ron wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers while he confronted the wedding band. Everything about this wedding day was going wrong. “Where the bloody hell is he?”

“He’s out sick, we thought we sent a patronus, but it must not have gotten to you.”

“No, it fucking didn’t—”

“Ron, calm down,” said Hermione as she approached behind him, her lilac-colored bridesmaid dress draped along the ballroom floor behind her. “We’ll figure something out.”

Ron resisted the urge to ogle her and focused on his anger. “Well the wedding starts in an hour, and Ginny really wants a harp player. Do you play harp, Hermione? Do you know another harp player?”

When did he become the high strung one?

“I can play harp.”

Ron whipped around to look at the speaker and his jaw dropped. Oliver Wood stood before him, a non-committal expression on his face. 

 “Really? You play the harp.”

“Yeah, actually. Took it up after Hogwarts. Got pretty good, if I don’t say so myself.”

Oliver was a surprise guest at the wedding. Evidently, he had moved to Romania after graduating and was now Charlie’s roommate. And, apparently, sometime between then and now he had taken an interest in the harp. 

“Okay. Thank you. If you want to convene with the band here, that would be amazing.”

“Sure!” said Oliver, who immediately turned to the band and started chattering away. Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand and tugged her along, happy to not be dealing with band-related drama right now. 

“Oliver Wood? Harp?” he whispered to Hermione. “When did that happen?”

“Just go with it,” said Hermione with a shrug. “One less fire for us to put out.”

Who goes from Quidditch to the harp? “Do you think Gin will notice?”

“That Oliver Wood is playing the harp? Yes, probably,” she laughed. “Let’s just not make a big deal out of it.”

Ron and Hermione proceeded up the stairs of the Grand Hotel ballroom, back to the bride and groom’s changing quarters. As the best man and maid of honor, their duties to make sure everything went off without a hitch at Harry and Ginny’s overly extravagant wedding turned quite stressful. Ron’s blood pressure had not returned to normal since he and Hermione had been thrown into wedding coordination earlier in the day, and that was up from a brand new baseline after they’d begun planning the gala months prior. 

That’s when he became the high strung one. This fucking wedding. 

Hermione, however, was cool as a cucumber. She thrived under pressure, obviously. That was good to know for the future, when it came time to plan their own wedding. Someday, maybe. 

“Okay, lets go check on these fuckers,” said Ron as they parted ways at the top of the stairs.

He could almost hear Hermione roll her eyes at his swear before he turned the corner toward the men’s changing room. 

Ron found Harry there, along with his other groomsmen, Ron’s brothers. Empty shot glasses lined the dresser, and Harry sat in a chair with his feet propped up next to the mirror. “Hey mate! The band’s all here?”

Resisting the urge to tell him everything, Ron nodded. “Everything is fine.”

“Great! Want to do another pre-wedding celebratory shot?”

“Do you really want to be stumbling over your vows, mate?” asked Ron. “The Daily Prophet’s here.”

“Eh, good idea. We’ll wait until the reception.”

“Probably best,” said Ron as he plopped into an empty armchair. 

A frantic knock on the door made Ron lose any hope of resting before the ceremony. “Come in.”

Hermione appeared at the doorway, an anxious look on her face. “Ron, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Ron rose to his feet and followed Hermione out the door, shutting it behind him. 

“So, the chocolate fountain is apparently broken…”

“Fuck.”

* * *

Hours later, Ron and Hermione found themselves glued to two armchairs in the lounge, cocktails in hand. The party was only beginning to die down, but there was still a determined, albeit intoxicated crowd bouncing on the dance floor. The news team had thankfully left, allowing the real party to begin.

Any other day, Ron would have loved to be on the dance floor with Harry, his brothers, and a ragtag crew of Gryffindors, but he was exhausted. And Hermione appeared the same. She yawned in between sips of Sauvignon Blanc, and her straightened hair was beginning to frizz. Honestly, Ron loved that look on her. 

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to be relaxing now, but I’m still stressed.”

Ron scooted toward one side of his armchair, and nodded to the small space he created. “Come here.”

Hermione wasted no time joining Ron on his armchair, curling up in his lap. He loved that they were comfortable with public affection now. Or at least, they liked to take advantage of those times when everyone else was too drunk to notice. Ron slipped an arm around her and she nuzzled into his neck. 

“Well, I have to say,” he whispered. “We’re amazing wedding planners.”

“Yes we are,” she laughed. “But if we get married, we should definitely elope.”

Her words lingered in Ron’s mind. Did Hermione think about marrying him?

“We can elope when we get married,” he said. “That’s fine by me.”

“I said if,” she clarified, but the smile on her face signified it was just a joke. They might not talk about it, but they already knew.

“We can elope if we get married,” he repeated, overemphasizing the correction. He noted her eye roll as he planted a kiss on her temple.

“Maybe someday,” she added, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

Ron hoped she could hear the smile in his tone. 

George + Angelina, September 2001

Ron shuffled through a throng of party-goers and made his way to the far side of the dimly-lit room, eventually taking a seat at the bar next to his girlfriend. Hermione held an almost-empty daiquiri with one hand and used the other to support herself on the bar counter. He cracked a smile at her state. Drunk Hermione pretending not to be drunk was always a joy to witness. 

“How are you?” she greeted him, her syllables slurring together ever so slightly. 

“Drink too much?” He wasn’t one to judge, as the entire ballroom looked to be spinning in circles.

Hermione shrugged and looked longingly at her daiquiri. “I think everyone here has had a bit too much.”

“That’s true. 

Ron inched his barstool closer to Hermione, wrapped an arm around her, and took in his surroundings. George and Angelina had chosen to get married at an event center in the middle of wizarding London. They’d decorated the open concept warehouse to their liking, with cozy cafe lights, tropical plants, and plush furniture reminiscent of a 1920s nightclub. In the middle of the large space was a dance floor lined with floating candles, a callback to the Great Hall at Hogwarts. 

Ron spotted Bill and Fleur on the dancefloor with their daughter Victoire, who was thrilled to be showing off her new walking skills. Victoire had attracted a crowd of cheerleaders as she waddled in circles around Bill and Fleur, laughing through her toothy smile. Even Charlie, who normally preferred to be by himself, had joined in on the cheering and dancing. Ron was sure the half-empty rum and coke in his hand had something to do with that.

On the far end of the dancefloor sat Molly and Arthur, engulfed by squishy armchairs as they watched the commotion around them. It had been a while since Ron had seen a genuine smile on either of their faces, but that was the only way Ron could describe their expressions now.  

“Maybe having a big party isn’t so bad,” said Ron. 

Hermione didn’t need him to clarify what he meant, even though the last time they spoke about weddings was over three months ago. “You’re right.”

There was definitely something to be said about enjoying a wedding rather than planning one. But from Ron’s perspective, sitting at the bar with minimal responsibilities, a drink in hand, observing a room filled with laughter, drinking and dancing, the efforts were worth it. 

“George looks so happy,” she said, nodding toward the middle of the room, where Ron’s brother stood, his arms wrapped around Angelina as they danced, her ivory gown bouncing with each step. 

“He really does.”

At that moment, the candles and tea lights flickered out and the music stopped, leaving the whole room quiet and dark. Ron’s heart rate immediately skyrocketed, and his instinct was to reach for his wand, but the next few seconds proved he didn’t need to. 

Moments after the room went dark, the ceiling illuminated with magical fireworks. Wonderstruck gasps replaced the silence as the wedding guests paused to look up and take in the light show. 

Ron snuck a glance around the room. Molly and Arthur’s faces reflected the light above, and both of their faces glistened with tears. And they were the happy tears he hadn’t seen from them in a while. At the other end of the bar, newlyweds Harry and Ginny sat watching, his arm around her shoulders. Charlie had retreated to a sofa in the corner of the room with his roommate Oliver and the pair watched with their feet kicked up on the coffee table in front of them. Even Percy and Audrey, who normally retreated early from such gatherings, had stayed up to watch the show from a pair of armchairs by the window. Both of them held mugs of steaming tea as they admired the display above. George and Angelina shared a kiss in the middle of the dance floor, their silhouettes illuminated by the flickering lights. And next to him sat Hermione, still a little drunk, with a light trickle of tears cascading down her cheeks, as she scanned the room to soak up everyone else’s happiness.  

“So, if we get married, are we having fireworks?” asked Ron.

Hermione nodded and smiled up at the ceiling. “When we get married, there will be fireworks.”

Charlie + Oliver, July 2002

Ron and Hermione sat in the living room at the Burrow, soaking in the smell of Molly’s homemade pie wafting from the kitchen. Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione, and her head nestled against his shoulder. He stole a glance at her left hand, currently ringless, but not for long. Sunday dinners at the Burrow were a regular occurrence these days, but this one was going to be different — because Ron and Hermione had an announcement to make. 

It happened a week ago. They had just gotten home from a two week vacation to the coast with Harry and Ginny, who helped him orchestrate a romantic candlelit dinner on the beach where he could finally pop the question. Honestly, she’d been expecting it, and she even picked out the ring — a simple marquise solitaire on a gold band — but that didn’t make the actual event any less romantic, exciting, and tear-inducing. 

At this point, Harry and Ginny were the only ones who knew. At the moment, the ring felt heavy in Ron’s pocket, and he couldn’t wait to put it back on her finger and openly share their news and discuss wedding planning with his family. 

“Charlie should be arriving any minute!” shouted Molly from the kitchen. “Ron, can you make sure the fireplace is clear?”

“Sure thing,” said Ron as he untangled himself from Hermione. Ron and Hermione as well as Harry and Ginny stood and made their way to the fireplace to greet Charlie. 

As soon as they’d found themselves in front of the floo, emerald flames began swirling within the fireplace like shaken potion and a coughing Charlie stepped out onto the hearth. 

“Charlie!” greeted Ron. “And… Oliver!”

Molly came rushing out from the kitchen to greet her son. “Oliver, so nice to see you again! Charlie dear, I didn’t know you were bringing your roommate too. You’re always welcome, Oliver, we’ll just have to make another bed for you—”

“Mum,” interrupted Charlie as he went in for a bear hug. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it dear?” asked Molly, pulling away. She brought her son to arms length distance and held both hands in hers. At that moment, her eyebrows knit together when she felt something on Charlie’s hand. “What’s this?” she asked, lifting up his left hand, where a black band sat on his ring finger.

“Mum.”

“Charlie—”

“We got married, mum,” said Charlie, his voice shaking. “Oliver and I.”

Charlie glanced back at his roommate, his husband, and sent him a sheepish smile. “We didn’t know how to tell you.”

Molly looked as though she might cry. 

“Congratulations!” yelped Hermione, who ran to embrace both Charlie and Oliver in a hug. She was followed shortly by Harry and Ginny.

The rest of the Weasleys and Weasley wives appeared in the room and echoed their congratulations as well as Arthur, who embraced his new son-in-law. “I always knew you were more than his roommate,” he whispered to Oliver, who let out a laugh. 

Molly had disappeared into the kitchen, and was already busying herself with the oven. All Ron could hear was pots and pans banging around the stove. 

“She’ll come around,” assured Arthur, who had an arm draped around Oliver’s shoulder as if he was his own son. 

* * *

Charlie and Oliver now sat in the same spot as Ron and Hermione earlier that afternoon, surrounded by Weasleys as they retold details of their story, recounting their journey from roommates, to friends, to lovers, to spouses. Ron could almost see the stress and weight of holding such a big secret leave his brother’s shoulders as he looked more lively and lighter than ever. 

One change in plans, however — Ron and Hermione definitely wouldn’t be announcing their engagement today. Ron stole a glance at Hermione who was engrossed in Charlie’s story, but when she met his gaze with a soft smile, he knew she was thinking the same exact thing. It was okay, they could wait. 

“So, why didn’t you tell us?” It was George who finally spoke to the hippogriff in the room. “Did you think we wouldn’t approve?”

Charlie and Oliver exchanged a look. “We were going to,” said Oliver. “We told my family first, but they reacted… poorly. They’re very traditional, you see. Sort of like…” Oliver didn’t finish his thought, but gestured toward the kitchen. The rest of the family nodded. 

Arthur brought his voice down to a whisper. “I think she’s more upset about not being told than anything else.”

As if on cue. Molly Weasley emerged from the kitchen, her hair frizzy and nearly singed. She still looked angry, like steam was about to shoot out from her ears, but there was a softness to her expression that wasn’t there before. “Oliver, you still like buttercream frosting, right?”

Oliver looked at Molly with a wide-eyed expression. “Erm, yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

“For your wedding cake, obviously,” she huffed. “You can’t expect to take this away from me too?”

Oliver shook his head, “No, of course. We’d love a cake.”

“Good,” chirped Molly. “And I hope you don’t mind if we have a little celebration tonight. I can’t bear the thought that I missed my son’s wedding.”

“Mum,” said Charlie. “There was no wedding. We just went to the courthouse and had dinner at home. You didn’t miss anything.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Molly as she straightened out her apron and tamed her hair. “We’ll celebrate tonight.”

Charlie’s face illuminated with the signature Weasley blush. “Thank you, Mum.”

“I’m still angry,” she said, cutting him off. “But not for the reasons you thought. I love you.” And with that, Molly shuffled toward the sofa where Oliver sat and wrapped him up in her arms. “And you too. Welcome to the family,” she told him, her voice muffled by his cotton t-shirt. 

Oliver’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Molly.”

“Call me Mum,” she said, as she pulled him away to arms length, looking at him the exact same way she would look at Charlie. “Okay I have a lot of work to do to get this cake ready.”

With that, Molly Weasley scuffled back to the kitchen. “If anyone wants to help me, that would be lovely!”

Bill and Fleur rose to their feet. “We’ll be right in!”

Ron and Hermione shared a glance of agreement before climbing out of their chairs as well. “We’ll help too.”

* * *

Only a few hours later, the Weasley family was finishing up dinner outside, and the sun had begun to set, casting a crimson hue across the sky. Molly had done the honors serving a beautiful red velvet cake with buttercream frosting, complete with two miniature groom figurines made out of chocolate. 

Harry and George had charmed candles to float around the Burrow grounds, and at Molly’s request, the sound of Celestina Warbeck’s greatest love songs permeated the air. 

Charlie and Oliver had joined Ron and Hermione on a pair of wooden loveseats by the garden. 

“Did you expect a full wedding reception today?” asked Ron. 

“Of course not,” laughed Charlie. “This is a thousand times better than what we imagined.”

“So, if my math is correct,” said Oliver. “You two are the last singles standing.”

Ron’s face turned bright red. He didn’t want to share his news with Charlie and make him feel guilty about stealing the thunder. “Your math is correct,” he confirmed.

“Do you have any wedding advice?” she asked. 

“Wait. Are you two—?”

Ron nodded and Charlie’s eyes lit up. “It just happened last week. Don’t tell anyone yet,” urged Ron. 

“Well congratulations,” whispered Charlie. “I’m happy for you.”

Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione. “Thank you.”

“If you want my advice,” said Charlie, “Let Mum be involved. I feel awful that I hurt her.”

Ron shrugged. “I think you’ve more than made up for it. She seems thrilled now.”

“But,” added Oliver. “A secret elopement was definitely the least stressful way to go about it. And I can’t recommend that enough.”

Charlie let out a laugh. “Unfortunately, I don’t think there is a way to let Mum be involved in a secret elopement, so choose your poison wisely.”

Ron glanced at Hermione, who looked lost in thought. “Yeah. Probably not.”

The sound of glasses clinking interrupted their conversation. The rest of the family looked at Charlie and Oliver, anticipation on their faces. 

“We have to kiss now,” stated Charlie. “I hate this attention.”

“Just go with it,” said Oliver.

“This is why we elop—” 

Oliver cut Charlie off by planting a kiss on his lips. Charlie’s ears burned red between Oliver’s hands as the Weasley clan whooped and cheered. 

Ron held Hermione a little closer. 

One more wedding to go, and he couldn’t wait. 

Ron + Hermione, March 2003

Harry and Ginny had transformed their backyard into a luxurious event space for the wedding, which honestly, didn’t take much transformation at all. The gold tables and chairs contrasted nicely with the greenery of their garden. The flowers were in full bloom, creating a colorful backdrop and thick floral fragrance in the air, and Ron and Hermione sat underneath a steel arch entangled with vines. 

As the rest of the table enjoyed their meal, Ron slipped his arm under the table to hold Hermione’s hand. Their wedding was perfect. They had incorporated something from each of his siblings’ celebrations. The golden chairs from Bill and Fleur’s added a mark of elegance. The forest green bridesmaids’ dresses and grooms’ ties from Percy and Audrey’s wedding looked amazing with the flowers, as well as the Weasley red hair. Harry and Ginny had charmed the large fountain in the middle of their yard to flow with chocolate — their request, since they never did get their chocolate fountain running at their own wedding. Later, there would be a magical firework show straight from the backyard, courtesy of George and Angelina. 

But the best part about this wedding was that it wasn’t even their real one. 

* * *

One month prior…

Ron and Hermione’s real wedding happened one month ago, on Valentine’s day. Just like Charlie and Oliver, they had opted to get married in private, without anyone knowing. On February 10th, they caught a portkey to a remote coastal town in Australia and checked into a secluded beachside villa. 

Everyone else thought they were just on a quick holiday, which they desperately needed amidst the perceived stress of planning their wedding. No one knew that there really wasn’t much anxiety associated with the big event, because it wasn’t the one that truly mattered. Either way, their villa provided a reprieve from everyone asking them about napkin colors, seating plans, and appetizer menus. For three days, they went to the beach, cooked their own food, soaked in the oversized bathtub, and drank wine by the fire. Forgetting about their work responsibilities and family engagements back home was the perfect way to spend their last few days as an engaged couple. 

When Valentines’ day rolled around, their routine changed. Ron woke up first, and began preparing a full breakfast in the kitchen. The smell of sizzling bacon woke Hermione up, who later shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee. They sat on the balcony and enjoyed their meal while listening to the crashing waves of the ocean. 

“Can you believe this is our last meal as fiances?” asked Ron as he scraped the last of his eggs from his plate.

“Yes, actually. And I can’t wait,” said Hermione before draining the last drop of coffee from her mug.

After breakfast, they scourgified their dishes and didn’t even need to look at one another for confirmation before scurrying to the bathroom, where they met each other like magnets. Ron turned on the shower with one hand, while the other plucked at the buttons on Hermione’s sleep shirt, popping them open one by one. Their clothing landed in a pile on the floor and the pair landed under the steady stream of warm water. 

“One more shag as fiances?” asked Ron as he ran his fingers through her hair, her curls elongating under the weight of the water. 

“Obviously…”

* * *

Ron and Hermione spent the rest of the day dolling up in their suite to prepare for their private ceremony on the beach. Although his siblings had all followed the tradition of not seeing the bride before the ceremony, Ron much preferred to watch Hermione transform into a bride with his own eyes. Her gown was classic and elegant — a lacy, high-neck halter that accented her simple makeup, a bodice that hugged her curves perfectly, and a train that cascaded to the floor, accentuating her impeccable body. She had tamed her curls so they formed longer waves that framed her face. Honestly, Ron would have married her in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, but this was beyond his imagination. 

Hermione took a few paces back from the mirror and analyzed her appearance. Ron’s heart clenched knowing she was looking for imperfections to fix before the ceremony. 

“You look amazing,” he spluttered. “No need to change a thing.”

Hermione smiled. “Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”

Ron looked back to the mirror and ran his fingers through his ginger hair. He was still his pale, lanky, and freckly self, but his reflection exhibited something else. Staring back at him was a confident man ready to be a husband. For a moment, he reminded himself of his brother Bill. Ron recalled watching Bill in awe as he stood at the front of the aisle at his own wedding, secure in his stance with happy tears streaming down his face, and not a worry in the world. Of course, Ron did have a few worries swimming around in his mind. What if the random officiant they hired didn’t show up? What if the weather turned sour? What if the sun protection spells wore off too soon and he spent the rest of their elopement looking like a perfectly seared lobster? Yet his reflection conveyed none of that. Maybe he was more like Bill than he thought. 

Ron reached for his leather bound notebook on the nightstand. He had been working on his vows for a few weeks, trying his best to keep them concise, and figured it was time for one last check. 

Hermione, 

Is it possible to promise you the entire world? Because I would if I could. But I’ll start with the easy things. First, I promise to love you. That one is easy because I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you. Even before I understood what love was, I knew I felt differently about you. I laugh at my younger self for not realizing it sometimes. I promise to remind myself how damn lucky I am every day. 

I promise to never stop trying to make you laugh, even when you’re mad at me. On that same note, I promise to stay calm during heated moments. It’s no secret that we love bickering with each other, but love will always come first. 

I promise to take care of you, even though you might not let me. I want to hear about every tough moment. I want to cry with you when you’re sad, make you soup when you’re sick, and bring you coffee in the morning after sleepless nights. 

I also want to enjoy your successes with you. I want to bask in every one of your accomplishments, take you out to dinner just because I love you, and be the reason for those sleepless nights that require an extra cup of coffee in the morning. 

I want to grow old with you and tell you you’re beautiful every day, even when you scoff at it. I wish I could give you a glimpse into my mind and see yourself how I see you, but then I’d run the risk of you realizing you’re way too good for me. 

I promise to grow with you and constantly work toward being the man you deserve. I will put in 100% of my effort, every single day, because you’re worth it. 

And finally, I promise to prioritize our relationship above everything else in this life, never stop reminding you how much I love you, and thank you everyday for choosing to be mine. 

Love you more than you’ll ever know, 

Ron

He’d pored over his vows too many times, and had come to the conclusion that the right words didn’t exist. But this was close enough. 

* * *

With their wedding license tucked under his arm and his vows in his trouser pocket, Ron and Hermione left their villa and made their way down to the scenic overlook where their officiant was waiting for them. He was a tall, blonde, bearded man that neither Ron nor Hermione had ever seen or met before, and that was exactly how they wanted it. 

“You must be Ron and Hermione,” he asked politely as he extended an arm to shake their hands. 

“That’s us,” responded Ron with a firm handshake. 

“My name is Dave, and I’m here to perform your wedding.” Dave wore a light blue suit atop a white shirt with a matching blue bowtie. His hair was medium length and slightly windblown and shaggy, reminding Ron of a golden retriever that had taken a nap in front of a fan. If Dave hadn’t been wearing a suit, Ron would have thought he’d emerged from the ocean. A surfboard would have looked more at home tucked under his arm than the binder of notes on how to perform a wedding ceremony. 

Ron glanced at a beaming Hermione, appearing unbothered by any of this. “We’re ready.”

“Great! Is this a good place?”

Ron looked around him. From their place on the rocky cliffside, they could see miles of ocean. Tiny bumps of land lined the horizon, making it look like a child had painted it with a shaky hand. Were those reef islands? Or maybe New Zealand? Was it even possible to see that far ahead? Honestly, Ron loved being able to look out onto the horizon and see something, yet not know what it was. 

“This is perfect,” he said. 

“Then let’s get to it. We’ll start with your vows. I understand you’ve written your own?”

“Yes,” said Hermione, as she pulled a tiny notebook from behind the fabric of her bodice. 

Ron smiled at her unexpected hiding place. “Instead of reciting them, we’d like to give them to each other to read, if that’s okay.” 

“That’s perfectly fine,” said Dave. 

Ron and Hermione exchanged notebooks. With a trembling hand, Ron opened Hermione’s up to the first page, where her tiny but impeccable handwriting caught his attention.

Ron,

I don’t think that I can capture how I feel about you in a short letter, and luckily I have the rest of my life to continue showing you. But to start, I promise to remember how lucky I am to have found someone like you. There is no one who challenges me more. You make me a kinder, more loving, and more patient person, and I promise to continue embracing that challenge everyday. I promise to help you to be the best version of yourself, even if it means nagging you to pick your clothes up off the bedroom floor, or put the dishes away. I vow to stand by you when our plans change or fail, and keep solving the riddle of life with you. I will always be on your team - not just for the good - the date nights, the adventures, vacations, promotions, and milestones, but for everything else too - the fights, the disappointments, and setbacks. There’s no one I’d rather have in my corner when things go wrong, and there’s no one I’d rather celebrate with when they go right. And I promise to be that same support for you. Let’s embrace life hand in hand, no matter what it throws at us. We’ve already accomplished so much, and it’s hard to believe it’s just beginning. Together, we can do anything. 

I promise to love you forever. This is the easiest promise to make. I love you so much, and it grows every day. I would tell you there’s no way I could possibly love you more, but I know I will tomorrow, and I cannot wait. 

Yours forever,

Hermione

His eyes stung with tears, and he looked up to see Hermione’s watering just as much after reading his. “I love you,” she mouthed to him. 

“I love you too.”

The pair looked at Dave, cueing him to continue. He cleared his throat. “Do you Hermione, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?

Hermione beamed. “I do.”

“Do you Ron, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall—”

“I do,” said Ron, unable to wait until he finished.

Dave smiled and seemed to relax a bit. “I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss your bride.” 

Ron and Hermione came together fast, his arms wrapping around her waist. Their lips met and as if they had choreographed their first kiss as a married couple, he lifted her off his feet. Memories of their first kiss in the room of requirement all those years ago flooded his mind, and it almost felt like they were their teenage selves wondering what the future held for them. 

When they eventually broke apart, Hermione’s hair remained ruffled from the wind, her face flushed, and she smiled. “We’re married.”

“Yes we are.”

* * *

Later that afternoon, when they had completed all wedding-related duties, signed marriage licenses, and taken photographs, Ron and Hermione found themselves alone, for the first time as husband and wife.

Their villa looked exactly the same as it had when they left that morning, yet everything felt different. The kitchen was still cluttered from their cooking adventures, their bed was unmade, and clothes spewed out from their suitcases onto the floor. If they had been in their flat back home, Hermione would have fixated on the messes until they were gone, but today, she didn’t seem to care at all. 

“I love you in a suit.” She eyed him up and down, and Ron’s cheeks tingled with heat. Funny how she could still have that effect on him after all this time. 

“I love you in that dress.”

Hermione glanced down at her gown with a wistful smile. “Too bad, because I don’t think I’ll ever wear it again.”

“And I hope there’s never an occasion to.”

Ron took a step closer to her and looped his fingers underneath her shoulder strap. 

“Want to help me take it off?”

“Absolutely, I do.”

Ron wanted to savor the moment of taking off her dress, slowly tug the zipper down, flick her straps off her shoulders, and watch her perfect body emerge from the lace in awe, but he was not exactly known for his patience. It didn’t take much time before Hermione’s dress crumpled into a pile around her ankles. By the way Ron’s suit landed on the floor just as quickly, it seemed Hermione had thrown patience out the window too. 

Ron stepped back to take her in. Her windswept curls had lost their structure over the course of the afternoon, but the way they dangled in front of her breasts drove him mad. Her body was spotted with new tan lines and freckles, and Ron couldn’t wait to run his hands over every single one. Looking at her hands, he could almost feel the way her perfectly painted nails would dig into his skin between the sheets. Although beautiful, her long legs looked lonely without him in between them. She was spectacular, as always. 

“Is it okay to say I love you even more without the dress?”

She smiled, and Ron basked in the way her eyes scanned his body. “Of course it is. I much prefer your suit on the floor.”

“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” The word still felt new coming from his lips, but he definitely could get used to it. 

“I can.”

Ron closed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her waist, and she instinctively hopped up, her legs embracing him. He held her tight and waddled toward the bedroom, not caring that he nearly knocked over a lamp on the way. None of that mattered. Hermione pressed her lips to his and gripped his hair between her fingers. He loved it when she did that, it always made him want her even more. Without breaking their kiss, they collapsed onto the bed, limbs  intertwined, faces flushed, ready to begin the rest of their lives together. 

* * *

Present Day

Ron couldn’t let himself get distracted by memories of the perfect day — he had guests to attend to. At the moment, his siblings were already crowding him and Hermione to congratulate them. 

“Fantastic wedding,” said Charlie as he plopped himself down into a chair next to Ron. “I’m glad you didn’t elope.”

“Same,” said George, who had pulled up beside Charlie. “Because this steak is amazing.” 

“Your wedding is perfect,” echoed Ginny from her spot beside Hermione.

Ron gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze. Although she didn’t know it, Ginny was right, their wedding was absolutely perfect. 

[pumukli74]

I'm empty without you

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x you/ femReader /Minna/ or whoever you want

Warnings: I do not know. Does anyone need a warning?

"My hand, without your hand, like a flower without fragrance.

My lips without your lips are like dawn without dew.

I'm empty without you, like the seas without water.”

Left-right, left-right, left-right. My legs did their work automatically despite my fatigue, which covered my body like an invisible shroud. I could barely keep my eyes open, not even the lights shining in the darkness of the street made it easier. It was three o'clock in the morning, and besides me, a few lonely passers-by were hurrying home or wherever they had to go. The weather wasn't in my favor either, I couldn't even see my nose in the thick fog. As if I were blind, I tripped over a piece of concrete.

And which was the peak of peaks... Valentine's Day was getting closer, and at my workplace, in a cafe, more and more couples in love appeared wanting to cuddle. I didn't hate this day, I just had bad memories of it. I don't like it, huh! My cell phone rang in the depths of my bag, and I stopped right where I was, digging into my bag up to my elbows. I completely forgot about research, I didn't hear the roar of the fast approaching engine. It appeared practically out of nowhere, and the wind caused by the two-wheeler blew me away. I found myself on the hard asphalt, my head hit hard, the contents of my bag scattered in all directions of the world.

The worried face of the tall figure cast a spell before me. Maybe from the world of fairy tales? The dark prince on the machine horse.

- My God! Are you okay? - he knelt down to me. His deep voice even made me swoon, it hit me like a lightning strike, just like his touch. The furrows of his fingertips burned tortuous labyrinths into my skin through my clothes, his brown eyes darkening even more with worry. My God! That face is too familiar! My stomach clenched like a ball, and my heart jumped up and down alternately.

- Yes, thank you - I would have gotten up, but he didn't go alone. He reached under my arm, supported my back and willingly helped. His touch burned, and I expected my clothes to end up like ashes next to my shoes. Just like long ago, maybe back in the Stone Age, on those wonderful nights in Madrid. He was JB, i.e. Jude Bellingham, a football player of the Real Madrid football team. But I didn't want to think about the feelings of that time, so I escaped from the biker's arms. I made a hasty decision, I felt dizzy. I would have fallen backwards, but he caught me and pulled me to his chest. Our faces were millimeters apart, I could feel his hot breath on my cheek. He didn't remain indifferent to my proximity either, his dilated pupils and increased breathing showed it. I suddenly pushed him away, but pain shot through my elbow. I caught it, my palm touched a bloody wound.

- Minna! You're hurt! - the cry burst from Jude's throat.

- It's nothing, it just needs a patch - I shrugged, but then I hissed, my sensitive joints indicated the problem.

- It's nothing! - he disparaged, his forehead covered in a sea of ​​wrinkles, while he stroked my side looking for painful areas. The fog couldn't hide the redness of my face, and he noticed it too. - You are still beautiful! - his mouth stretched into a smile, his gaze fixed on my lips. Will you kiss me? My eyes closed involuntarily. The silent spell between us was broken by a screeching brake.

- Is something wrong? - an unknown man ran up to us.

- Nothing happened, I just tripped and fell - I tried to reassure him. I bent down for my scattered things, tried to avoid sudden movements.

- He should be seen by a doctor - Jude's worried voice made me look at him more carefully. Nothing has changed. He towered almost a head and a half above me, his long legs covered in jeans and his broad shoulders in a leather jacket. For a moment, our eyes merged again, we even forgot about the people standing next to us.

- No need, no problem! - I protested.

- Then let me bandage your wounds - Like before, I couldn't resist his request, no matter what it was. - Come! - And I willingly followed him to his motorcycle, then looked in amazement at the other crash helmet conjured up from somewhere. - I always have one more, just in case…

I hugged his waist and sat on the motorcycle behind him. A thousand thoughts were swirling in my head, so I didn't even look where we were going. We stopped at a house closed off from the outside world and prying eyes by a high fence, the electric gate slammed shut behind us. Jude greeted the security man who suddenly appeared with just a nod, then pressed the lock key into his hand.

- Whose house is this?- I turned to him.

- Mine. I bought it back then... - When we were still together, I added in my mind. Would this palace have been there for 2 years? - But... Why didn't you sell it? - Silently, without answering, he went through the door, I hastily followed him. He sat me down in what looked like a living room. I looked around curiously until he came back with the first aid kit.

- It will sting a little - Jude broke the silence as he approached my elbow with the antiseptic cotton. A bit? I'm going to scrape the wall! Biting my bottom lip hard, I tried to stifle my hiss. Failed. - I'm sorry.

- It didn't hurt at all - The waves of his laughter bounced off the walls, my sensitive ears greeted him as familiar. A pleasant shiver ran through me. - Please, Jude! Do not do it!

- What? - Those wonderful brown eyes widened in a moment of wonder, then narrowed to slyness in recognition. The vibrations coming from him and his touch made the muscles of my body twitch in wailing. The pounding of my heart in my chest shifted into a higher gear. - My Dear! Just give me one, one kiss! - he sighed into my mouth, sucking the air and my remaining energy from him. - Just one - That's all i want, just one. Nothing else.

I, too, could never count well.

When he kissed me, everything stopped. Involuntarily, I wrapped my arms around his neck, helplessly succumbing to the attacks of his lips.

- Jude, let's stop it! - I gasped for air. - This is not allowed, it is not right.

- Why? - he clung to me again, his hand on my back, then he grabbed my bottom and pulled me to him, his erection giving bright evidence of how much he wanted. His mouth was already on the hunt for my neck, burning a glistening trail of saliva into my skin. - Mine! You're mine! - he bit my shoulder, marking me with his teeth. By tomorrow, my skin will surely heal. - Only mine!

- Don't! - I moaned one last time, protesting a little.

As much as I had decided earlier that I would not give in, I must admit that I collapsed at the touch of him.

I clung to him tightly, wrapping my legs around his waist without thinking.

In the next moment, already in the semi-darkness of the bedroom, I felt the soft material of the blanket on my naked back, the possessive grip of his fingers on my hips, his satisfied growl in my ear.

- I missed you! - I heard his choked, wheezing voice later. - Every night I dreamed that you were lying next to me. Then, startled, I looked around and you were nowhere to be found. I'm empty without you.

- I love you, honey! - I leaned over him, he pulled me down by the back of my head.

( just the usual : english is not my first language )

[wannaeatramyeon]

Jake Kim x Reader: Drive

So so fluffy and indulgent.

Hitting the open roads with Jake is a blessing.

Stealing kisses at red lights, speeding along country roads, leaving your worries behind with the city.

Sunny days leads to windows down, music up. Drumming his fingers along to the music, hand caressing your knee. Aviators on, cheeky smile, singing along.

You're both in your own bubble when the rain falls. It's quieter as he navigates the road, listening to the droplets bounce off metal and asphalt. Shielding you both, your looks and words for each other and each other alone.

Sometimes you go with a destination in mind, sometimes it's the journey that matters.

You pass countless fields of multicoloured crops and farm animals. Occasionally pausing at a convenient spot to attempt to pet a cow or horse. You squeal and flinch and Jake rolls his eyes fondly.

Jake's charm extends to the roadside ajummas selling seasonal snacks, leaving them blushing and giggling like schoolgirls. You reap the rewards, munching on ripe and juicy fruits as Jake winks at you.

Inevitably stopping for roadside viewpoints, snapping memories together. You smiling no matter the weather, Jake looking like you hold all the answers to the universe.

Quick breaks at roadside cafes. Longer ones in tourist towns, peering through shop windows. Laughing and daydreaming about what it would be like to live away from the bright lights of Seoul.

You follow where the roads go.

Rolling hills, as far as the eye can see. Lakes and forests, mountaintops shrouded in clouds. Horizons beckoning with promises of adventure.

But no view as breathtaking as the man besides you.

Some roads leads to beaches. Feeling the sand between your toes. Running and laughing as Jake chases, threatening to throw you in the sea.

Hiking through woods and tree lined paths, where the branches hide the sky. Magical, serene. You walk hand in hand with each other looking for a perfect picnic spot.

Others lead to searching for a secluded spot to park. Besotted and lovedrunk, in desperate need of privacy to explore each others bodies.

You are unashamed with the way you watch him as he drives. The sunlight highlighting his handsome features. Jake knows. He preens under your soft gaze and attention.

When the moon chases the sun across the sky, you admire him instead from the neon glow of the electronics and streetlights.

At night it becomes more subdued. The air hangs heavier. A drive becomes a need to clear his head and escape.

During these hours you're the one carrying the conversation, until the strained veneer breaks and his shoulders are no longer taut with tension.

But you gladly take the sullenness with the joy.

The deep conversations, whispered secrets, inane questions, silly hypotheticals, inside jokes. The tears, the pleasure and everything in between.

Even the bickering when the GPS leads you astray.

You treasure each moment, your own piece of sacred heaven.

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday 📝

Kicking things off because it’s Wednesday night for me and I wanna share ☺️

This is from Rival Firefighters 🚒 and is the debut of an OC who is going to make an appearance or two throughout the fic. She’s just a kind cafe owner who I started writing and then next minute I was attached to her even though she’s barely in the chapter haha.

Anyway, here is some Eddie and Chris at their favourite cafe 🥰 (and a moodboard at the end cos I couldn’t resist)

Eddie pulls up outside Corner Store Cafe and helps Chris out of the truck before heading inside. They’re greeted by Rosalie, the owner of the cafe, an older woman in her 50s, with dirty blonde hair and chestnut eyes that radiate warmth, making you instantly feel safe and at ease.

“Just the two of you today?” She asks them as she plucks two menus from the counter and leads them to their favourite spot by the window.

“Yep! Me and Dad are going to the aquarium!” Chris tells her excitedly.

“The aquarium! Oh I bet you’re going to have the best time!” Rosalie pulls out a chair for Chris. “What are you most looking forward to seeing?” She asks, eyes alight with genuine interest.

“Sea otters! Though the shark lagoon does look cool.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it next time you’re here.” Chris smiles at her, big and gummy and Eddie swears he sees Rosalie melt a little. “Now what can I get you boys besides a big cup of coffee for Dad?” She throws Eddie a wink. It doesn’t take people long to figure out that Eddie does not function well without coffee.

“Well,” Eddie says as he leans forward as if to tell a secret, “someone mentioned something about pancakes.”

“Chocolate chip with extra whipped cream?” Rosalie recites Chris’s usual pancake order with a grin.

Chris looks to Eddie, silently asking if the order is okay. Eddie nods and then Chris is beaming at Rosalie and almost shouting his “yes please!”

Rosalie laughs and then turns back to Eddie. “Your usual? Or will you be partaking in some pancakes as well?”

“Think I’ll go with pancakes this morning. Blueberry please.”

“Wonderful, those will be right out.”

“Thanks, Rosalie.”

Rosalie answers with a smile and then heads back to the kitchen to put their order through.

No pressure tagging: @thewolvesof1998 @callmenewbie @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @wikiangela @monsterrae1 @athenagranted @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @forthewolves @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @wildlife4life @jeeyuns @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @prettyboybuckley @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @captain-hen @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck and anyone who has something they want to share 💜