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devildom-moss · 1 year

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hiii! i just saw your requests are open and imagine my excitement!! bcs aaa i rlly really love your writings💕💕theyre such a treat to read, the shenanigans and character interactions are so captivatingly written that i am: Smitten

could i req: a short platonic fic where luke teaches you (gn!mc), a chronic instant noodles eater++kitchen-illiterate person, how to cook?

i think it wud be a funny sight for the rest of purgatory hall getting to see this lil angel easily navigate a stove/handles a knife while the actual adult is struggling not to mix sugar nd salt (also ik he mostly bakes but im of the mind that canon was meant to be ignored HAHA and besides theres not enough fics of luke gettin to be mc's guardian angel)

please tag me @diodellet too, thank you (not to rush u or anyth, by all means take your time to work your magic, writing words gets hard smtimes) 💕💕💕i hope you have a wonderful day and remember to hydrate!!

Thank you so much! That’s so sweet! I hope you’ll like it. I'm sorry that it got a little (or a lot) longer than I intended, but it was a really cute idea. @diodellet

Luke teaching a kitchen-illiterate gn!MC to cook

“You know, MC,” Simeon mused, handing you a sandwich, “I’d like to try your home cooking someday.”

The members of Purgatory Hall had invited you to a picnic – Simeon and Luke prepared all the food. Solomon offered to help them, but Simeon insisted that since it was Luke’s idea to have a picnic that day, Luke should be responsible for the cooking. However, as Luke’s guardian, Simeon had to be there to help. Usually, Luke would have protested being treated like a child, but if it got Solomon out of the kitchen, he’d tolerate it.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Solomon laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Raphael asked.

“MC doesn’t cook,” Solomon informed everyone on your behalf.

“What?” Luke was shocked. “Why not? What do you do when it’s your day to cook? I thought you and those demons split the chores up.”

“I usually just order out or get some of those pre-made meals. Honestly, we eat a lot of instant food when I’m on cooking duty. I can’t really do much without ruining the food.”

“You’re joking, right?” Simeon chuckled, but when you failed to laugh along, his face stiffened up. “Right?”

“Nope, they’re completely lost in the kitchen. Asmo told me that he tried to teach them how to make an omelet and everything inside was undercooked and cut into huge, uneven chunks. They even burned the eggs,” Solomon told on you.

“Oh, you’re one to insult someone’s cooking.” You narrowed your eyes at him before turning back to the bewildered angels. “But he’s right. I’m pretty incompetent in the kitchen. No one ever really taught me, and they’re not usually patient enough for me to learn.”

“That’s unacceptable, MC!” Luke shouted. “You need to be able to cook. What if you get sick from poor nutrition? Besides, cooking is fun. I’ll teach you.”

“Luke, you don’t have to do that. That sounds like it will be a lot of trouble for you.” You declined his offer, worried that he was simply pitying you.

“Nonsense! I insist! If you don’t learn, I’ll always be worried about you eating right or getting hurt in the kitchen. Just come for one lesson. If you hate it, we’ll figure something else out. Please?”

“Okay,” you admitted defeat. “Thank you, Luke.”

“Good.” Luke grinned. “Come to Purgatory Hall tomorrow afternoon.”

Simeon greeted you at the door that afternoon, a bright smile on his face. “I’m so glad you’re here. Luke has been up since early morning getting ready for your arrival.”

“Simeon!” Luke shouted at him, flushed with embarrassment. “It wasn’t that early. Come in, MC. Raphael made you an apron last night, so he’s still asleep.”

You put on the well-made and rather adorable apron and followed Luke to the kitchen. Jars of spices and nearly a dozen fruits and vegetables were set out on the counter. Luke went through the trouble of picking out produce that he had seen you eat before and ones that weren’t especially difficult to prepare or handle.

“Uhm, so,” you drew out the “o” sound while you scrambled to figure out what he had planned, but you were at a loss. “What are we making today?”

“Take a guess.”

“Salad?” you responded, uncertain of your guess.

“No – but that would have been a good beginner meal, too. We’re making soup – well, actually, curry.” Luke beamed at you, quite proud of his choice. “Curry is highly customizable. We can make it mild or spicy to suit your tastes, we can make it vegan or vegetarian, and you can change up the ingredients with the seasons. And there’s nothing more comforting and loving than making soup for yourself and those you care about.”

“Is curry a soup?” you questioned him.

“Well, let’s not get into that.” Simeon laughed awkwardly. He turned to Luke and pat him on the head gently. “I’m leaving MC in your hands, Luke. Be a good little teacher and call me over if you need help with anything.”

“Simeon! I’ve got this,” Luke whined and began pushing Simeon out of the kitchen from behind. Simeon waved goodbye to you during his forceful expulsion.

You put your hand to your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing or cracking a smile at how cute they were. When Luke returned guardian-less he symbolically dusted his hands off and instructed, “okay, we both need to wash our hands before we start cooking. Then we’ll wash all the produce you want to use.”

“Yessir,” you saluted him in jest before following orders. With clean hands, you perused the options.

Among other ingredients, there were two varieties of Devildom mushrooms, peppers, potatoes, revelation tomatoes, ghost pumpkin, and putrid pineapple. Your eyes landed on a deep red stalk. You picked it up. “What’s this one, Luke, some kind of Devildom celery?”

Luke blinked at you in amazement. “That’s rhubarb. It’s a human world vegetable. Solomon decided to grow some.”

“O-oh,” you set it down, embarrassed and half-expecting Luke to laugh.

“That’s okay. It does fit in with Devildom fruit and vegetables, doesn’t it?” Luke smiled at you innocently.

“I guess so. How many fruits and vegetables should I pick?”

“A couple. Add what you think will taste good. I’ll let you know if you make any awful choices, but I trust you.”

Something about his confidence in the face of your absolute lack of skill was comforting – like it was unlikely that you would fail, and if you might, he’d guide you away from a Solomon-level disaster. You grabbed the ghost pumpkin, chickpeas, red peppers, and a Devildom variety of chili pepper. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, that will be great.”

“Is there anything you want to add, Luke?”

“Let’s add some revelation tomatoes! Barbatos brought these over just yesterday and they look amazing. We should add garlic and shallots or onions, too. Those are usually a given in curry, though.”

“I’m learning already,” you smiled through your words.

Luke watched over you diligently. After showing you the proper technique, he kept an eye out as you minced the garlic and shallots. He even corrected your hand position before he let you cut anything, ensuring that your fingers were curled or at least out of the way. It was adorable to hear him call the curled hand position the “cat paw.” In its own way, it was also pretty cute to watch a little angel holding a big knife. When you finished cutting up your half of the roasted pumpkin a good minute after Luke had finished his, it looked disappointing. Although, to be fair, Simeon and Solomon popping their head out from the hall to get a peak into the kitchen was a bit distracting.

“It’s kind of a mess compared to yours,” you noted, sheepishly.

“That’s okay.” Luke grinned and scooped your pumpkin pieces into the bowl with his. “They’re all about the same size, and there’s no seeds on them. They’ll cook up fine, and once they’re in the curry, no one will notice if they weren’t cut up that nicely as long as the food tastes good.”

You were taken aback by his optimism and sweetness – and so was whoever took a sharp inhale from the living room.

You and Luke were halfway through cutting the peppers and the aromatics were already in the pot along with a roux – adjusted to your spice level – when Solomon entered the kitchen. “Mind if I help you out in here?”

“Oh, no thank you.” You shook your head and added the coconut milk into the pot as Luke had instructed. “Luke’s doing a great job teaching me.”

“I’m a great cook,” he lied, mostly to himself, “I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.”

“They said ‘no,’ Solomon. We can do this ourselves.”

“Come on,” Solomon tried to persuade you both.

“I’m bonding with Luke, so no.”

That was enough to shut Solomon up. He couldn’t bring himself to come between yours and Luke’s bonding time. “Can we at least come in and watch?”

“’We?’” you questioned him.

“It’s so boring trying to watch from the living room. Simeon couldn’t see well when you accidentally turned on the back burner and wondered why the pot hadn’t heated up after 5 minutes. It was really funny.”

“Your stove is different than the one at the House of Lamentation, you rude old wizard.”

“Come on, it was also really cute, MC.”

“As cute as one of your wizard staffs giving you a prostate exam?” You narrowed your eyes at him. Luke decided to tune out your fighting as he dumped the vegetables and chickpeas into the water.

“Maybe, but that’s a bit kinky to mention in front of Luke.” Solomon laughed and turned away. “Anyway, I’m going to get the others.”

“It was an insult you dirty old–” you started, but it was too late; he was already down the hall – and you didn’t actually have an insult on hand. Luke sighed and shook his head at you two. It wasn’t like he was above bickering, but no one should argue in a kitchen.

“While we have a minute, the last thing we need to cut up is the revelation tomato. We need to give it a secret, something good. I think we should both tell it a secret, what do you think, MC?”

“Okay. I’ll go first.” You looked at Luke’s adorable face as you took the tomato and made your choice. “Dear tomato, Luke is a really good teacher, and I’m glad he offered to teach me because I’m pretty useless in the kitchen. It’s usually embarrassing and pretty scary, but not when Luke is here to help. I’m really proud of him. And I know we’re not done with the dish yet, but I’m proud of myself, too – at least a bit.”

You handed the tomato to Luke. Sure, it wasn’t the juiciest of secrets, but you were happy with it. It felt right – like how the vegetables you picked out felt right or how the spices you added felt right. Luke stepped into the corner to whisper his secret to the tomato.

Luke had just finished telling the tomato his secret when Simeon, Raphael, and Solomon piled into the kitchen.

“So, how’s it going?” Simeon asked sweetly.

“MC’s doing a great job,” Luke bragged on your behalf while you focused on dicing the tomato. Whatever secret Luke had shared, the combination of both of your secrets had combined to make a perfectly juicy tomato that was fragrant and slightly sweet.

“Smells good,” Raphael commented.

“Thank you, Raph. And thank you for the apron. It’s cute.”

“No problem. I’m glad you didn’t cut any fingers off or get any blood on it.” Everyone ignored his grim comment. “You should take it home with you for when you cook for the brothers. I can always make you an apron specifically for here.”

“We could have matching aprons, MC!” Luke almost jumped with joy before restraining himself. He added, timidly, “Of course, that’s only if you want to have more cooking lessons.”

“I’d love to, Luke.”

You added the tomatoes into the pot, gave it a stir, turned the heat down, and added the lid on to allow the curry to simmer. Luke clapped his hands together and said, “Excellent. Lunch will be ready soon. I prepared some rice to go along with it.”

“When did you have time to do that?” you asked, stunned by what seemed to be the sudden appearance of a rice cooker on one of the counters. How had you not heard that going?

“While you were chopping vegetables.”

“Well, I’ll go set the table.” Simeon was reluctant to leave the precious sight of you and Luke in the kitchen. He never imagined you’d be so lost, nor did he imagine that Luke would make such an excellent teacher. Still, at least he would have the opportunity to see his favorite angel sorry Raphael and favorite human not sorry Solomon cooking together again.

“I’ll get some Demonus and some juice for Luke.” Raphael took his leave.

With every bowl filled, you stared around the table nervously. Who should take the first bite? What if it was awful? Confident, Luke dug in. You watched him carefully.

“This is good – if I do say so myself. You did a great job, MC.”

“It’s delicious,” Simeon added with a grin.

“Asmo would never believe that you made this,” Solomon offered his backhanded compliment. “I’m going to take a picture and share it on Devilgram. I should caption it ‘Thank you Luke and MC for making lunch.’”

“Good job, you two.” Raphael nodded.

“I couldn’t have done this without Luke.” All the praise was starting to get embarrassing, so you turned to Luke. “Thank you so much for teaching me.”

Luke was grinning from ear to ear. He could ace all his exams and he still wouldn’t feel prouder than he was now.

Bonus:

Luke’s secret:

“I’m so happy that I can finally help MC with something. They’re always helping me out, and I don’t get to repay the favor very often. I’m worried about them being alone, but if they can cook, that’s one less thing I have to worry about. I hope I can keep teaching them, and they’ll think of me as someone they can rely on.”

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to finally get to another request. I've been kind of out of it, and instead of committing to one request and finishing it, I started like 4 at once. I'll try to get on with the others soon, though.

#luke #simeon #solomon #raphael #gn!mc #anon #requests #diodellet #ask #obey me #obey me purgatory hall #I hope that my love of soup and curry comes through in this #also I feel like I've been in a real bully Solomon mood recently #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me raphael

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comical-icicle · 6 months

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how did nh pull bard just wondering?

I tried to find it somewhere but nada

Probably because I haven’t posted anything about that.

It is a great question and I have thought about it before (briefly). I don’t really delve into romance that often and the ship was more spontaneous of ‘what would they be like together?’ Like at first I was trying to come up with a reason to ship them, as if it would be checked (?), but eventually threw that out the window and rolled with the spontaneous ship for just the vibes they have. Hence why there’s nothing really about how they got together originally. Also because I wasn’t very confident about it at first.

But now that I have more confidence in this ship, I’m actually a little excited to talk about it, even if it isn’t set in stone and I may change it. I just have thoughts right now and being encouraged to talk about it I am hyped.

Under a read more just so main tags don’t have to deal with my nonsense. I’ll give them that.

I’ll try to make this as simple as I can, so a lot of stuff will be left out. I’m just going to cover the tipping point that will get them to hang out with each other more. So… if this isn’t what you wanted, sorry, that’s what I got.

The catalyst would definitely be super villain island so… thank you Zeus? At least in terms of Nervous Heart actually talking with Mordred without being too stressed out. Considering the start of the dream is about being trapped in a room and how she knows they’re located in erehwon prison, it’s a familiar feeling and she doesn’t like it. BUT ANYWAY, it’s not the worst when someone else is there.

Being able to go into bard’s dream and just chat with Mordred for a while? Yeah, seeing him actually in front of her, even if it’s only a dream, was a major reminder that bard is a person that has more thoughts to them than just taking over the universe. That didn’t help the fight in the dream where she actually gets the totem which she thinks will help bard be not evil. The guilt would be eating at her continuously. Then it turns out that Zeus was manipulating her the entire time, not helping the guilt as now it was for nothing. And now villains are loose and she’s got Zeus to deal with so she doesn’t have time to process it before she heads off to kick Zeus’ ass thanks to Poseidon.

Now uh, I do think that bard finds out about the fight because I think with the whole islands being destroyed, it would have been a big deal that covered several islands, and that’s kind of what makes them interested in seeking out Nervous Heart again, not because of any heroics but because a mortal fought a god- the king of gods no less- and won? How?? Details??? Especially because I think bard has the ‘how does this work?’ mindset, whether it be electronics or events. They just have to know more. Nervous Heart feels too guilty about causing the whole thing to really reject, which Bard does catch onto and uses to their advantage for a bit (resentment for being defeated both in their dream and in life most likely) before they stop doing that because it started to not feel good.

Uh… hopefully this answers your question? This could make sense or it could be nonsense rambling. I don’t know. Again I am filled with thoughts after being prompted, but I didn’t want to make this too long so I tried not to get too caught up with specifics. I didn’t want to overexplain in case that this isn’t what you mean or you wanted me to refer to something else. I’m not sure!

But uh… yeah, thank you for letting me think about these idiots, even if my thoughts are all over the place! I didn’t want to take up too much in the case that it was too much.

#nervous heart #binary bard #poptropica #oc x canon #ask #answer #late night writing #another ramble? more likely than you think #listen I love talking about them and thinking of how to put this together it was fun #but I do apologize if this was not what you wanted it’s just how I interpreted the question to make it simple #basically the pinpoint of when they might actually start hanging out more and how it morphs into the ‘it’s complicated’ stage #sort of #I am so sorry to everyone who has to witness this (no I’m not)#I actually have no idea if this is coherent so… good luck!

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byjillianmaria · 8 months

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dead darlings tag

Tagged by @sarandipitywrites!! check out their dead darling here.

Tagging @stories-by-rie @cwritesfiction @lady-redshield-writes @lullabyes22-blog @roselinbooks-official @incandescent-creativity aaaaand whoever else wants to do this!

There's Magic Between Us went through a LOT of changes before it got published. Eden grew a whole different backstory, a subplot about a missing uncle got axed, a subplot about a magic treasure got added, and Lydia's knowledge of Fae Nonsense was severely more limited!

As such, a lot got left on the cutting room floor. I'm not too precious about any of it, but I was always a little sad to lose this scene where Lydia plays guitar for Eden. It doesn't really make sense to have in the final draft — Eden became the kind of character who wouldn't have time for this distraction, and Lydia became the kind of character who wouldn't have the patience to learn a whole song, anyway — but it was such a fun little romance trope to have while it lasted.

I also included some developer's notes, for funsies.

“What’s that on your back?” she asks. “Oh!” I run my free hand along the strap across my waist. (Note from present-day Jillian: I think this was meant to say shoulder or chest? That's a first draft for you.) “That’s my guitar. I just brought it for fun.” “Do you play?” “A little! I can show you when we sit down.” Sure, I only know the basics. But I know a few songs—enough to woo people who want to be wooed, I’m pretty sure. Or at least fill a few quiet moments between friends. I could be down for either, depending on how this plays out. “That would be nice.” Eden points ahead of her. The trees widen out into a clearing with a large pond. A few willow trees dot the shore, long branches reaching down. It’s one of those that she points to. “Under that tree is one of my favorite spots to sit. I bet it would make a good picnic.” “Dude, totally.” It looks like something out of a postcard. In the shade of the willow branches, the warm summer air cools just a little. It’s a comfortable place to lay out the picnic blanket. “You’re right, there is a lot of cool stuff here.” Eden smiles, smoothing the burgundy skirt of her button-down dress over her legs as she sits. “I’m glad you think so.” “Yeah! Thanks for showing it to me. If you’re ever in Chicago, I’ll be sure to return the favor.” Eden looks down at her lap, hair falling over her forehead. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I’m not sure if it’s bashfulness that changes the air between us or something else, but suddenly the silence sits heavier and less comfortable. I rush to correct it. “I’ve got lots of sandwich making stuff in here, and candy and things. You can pick what you want.” I swing the guitar around into my lap. “Lunch and a show!” This makes Eden smile again, which makes me happy. “Aren’t you going to eat?” I flap a hand at her. “I can eat in a second. I promised music!” “I guess you did,” Eden says, a laugh clinging to the edge of her voice. And so I play for her, while she rummages through the basket and puts together a sandwich. I’m not a great guitarist or a great singer, either, but I can carry a tune well enough that it isn’t unpleasant to listen to. Besides, the trick to doing anything is to do it with confidence. I play one of my favorite songs to perform, a love song by a straight guy. (Note from present day Jillian: what is she playing? I have no idea. I have a playlist of music she likes, but there's few men and even fewer acoustic songs.) I very purposefully don’t change the pronouns when it comes to talking about the girl he fell for. Look, between the pansexual pride bracelet on my wrist and the constant flirting, no one’s ever accused me of being subtle. Eden doesn’t react to the pronoun use, either positively or negatively. Which doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I just know that I get a little excited whenever someone does something gay, even if I’m not interested in them. It’s like finding someone wearing a shirt for a band you like, or something. A moment of connection and understanding, however brief. I won’t be shattered if Eden doesn’t like girls, of course. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know.

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shady-tavern · 1 year

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Tag Game

Thanks so much for @those-damn-snippets for tagging me! That was very sweet of you!

+++

1. What motivates you to write?

Alright, this is going to sound super cheesy, but writing just makes me so damn happy. The joy and excitement that new ideas or future scenes bring me is something that drives me forward. I love writing. I feel right when I do it, like all those weird and strange parts of me that never really seem to fit in anywhere else are wanted and needed. So yeah, what motivates me is how much I love writing and how happy it makes me.

And I hope I get to share at least a small spark of that joy with people when they read my stories.

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud of; if not, share a line of someone else's work that you love (just be sure to credit).

Oh wow, that’s a hard pick and I don’t know about most proud. I collected a couple of scenes I really liked that I wrote recently and I have to admit that I chose by playing eeny-meeny-miny-moe. I don’t know if that snippet (or any of the snippets really) makes much sense without context, but I really liked the way it turned out.

Warnings ahead for child death as well as vomiting. This one’s not nice folks and it belongs to the novel "Wild Magic" that I’m working on on the side, along with The Shape of a Soul:

Sophie’s hands trembled and then she was vomiting off to the side. The moment she could breathe again she curled up to press her head against Tina’s shoulder, weeping terribly as the summoned werewolf faded, collapsing into itself. She had been too late.

There was no healing death.

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

Alright, that’s a mean question. I like talking about pretty much all of my OCs if I’m given the chance. But I suppose one of the OCs that always makes me happy to write is Ziana from "Hearts of Magic".

She’s such a genuinely fun and loyal person who is down for all kinds of mischief and nonsense and will literally poison your abusive parent the second you let her. She’s warm and kind and supportive and protects the people she loves with all she has. She never takes herself too seriously and you can talk with her about anything and she’ll listen and either try to help or offers a hug. Or to go punch the person who upset you.

She is, weirdly enough, a main character who’s more written the way a side-character would be. Which is also part of the fun of getting to explore her personality and actions and how the story is told through her.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

Excited scribbling and mashing of keys when I let the story take over. I love it when it all just flows right out of me and onto the page and it actually sounds like I want it to. That’s the best thing and I literally don’t care if I’m writing an action or friendship or romance scene. Just that feeling of getting to upend a large bucket of water, but instead of water it’s just a rushing flow of words.

5. What part of writing do you think you're best at? (Stroke your own ego, it's okay.)

I think I’m pretty good at writing emotions or the emotional state of characters. That and giving characters neither much of a description or names and sometimes even both.

6. What is something in the writeblr community that is most enjoyable?

I’m usually bad with getting into communities or fandoms and all that and I don’t know if I am a part of the writelbr community, but I really love just how nice and encouraging everyone has been since I started posting stories. You guys are just too sweet and it’s a joy to come up with stories and share them with you.

7. A writing tool/device that help you with writing (i.e. text to speech, a program, etc.).

It’s going to sound super old-school, but it’s notes and notebooks. I have a special notebook for each of my novels I’m working on and I write everything down, from people to quotes to places to monsters or phrases in made-up languages.

8. A piece of world-building that you like in your own story (it could be the magic system, a particular place, a law, etc.).

Oh, that’s another hard one. I love world-building and I do it for every damn piece of writing. I’m going with the first thing that came to mind:

In my novel "Wild Magic" there are demons born out of negative or unwanted emotions when people die. Grief, abandonment, regret, fear, things like that. Those creatures can only be fought and killed by mages, but there is also never going to be an end to them either. There will always be someone who dies unhappy or filled with some fierce or bitter emotion. So part of the story is the characters muddling their way through that world and figuring out what to do.

9. What piece of advice would you give to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

This may sound counterproductive to some people, but go away from your story. Take a walk, go to the toilet and sit down and play on your phone, go sit in the sun or lie on the floor and listen to nothing or to a song or white noise. Did you drink and eat enough today? Go get a glass of water or juice anyway, that’s always a good idea. And what about your medication? Or sleep?

Get some distance to your story if you can’t figure out what bothers you about it or why you are stuck. Clear your head and come back when you’re not filled with frustration or stress.

Aside from that, go back to the point in your writing where you still liked and enjoyed your writing. Try to figure out from there what happened that made it hard for you to continue.

Do you need to re-write a certain scene? Did you try to force characters to do or say something just to fit an idea in your mind? Do you find the current scene boring or tedious and do you need to shorten or skip it all together, summarizing it with a few words? Is the current emotional state of your characters hard for you to write and do you need to slow down and take it moment by moment?

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters.

I hope you guys don’t mind getting tagged! I really enjoy your writing a lot.

@radiojamming

@cozycryptidcorner

@mouseymightymarvellous

@those-damn-snippets

#thanks for tagging me!#I've never done one of these before so I have no idea what I'm doing #but what else is new #I never know what I'm doing

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

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A Dinner to Die For:

Tag: @iloveslasher @myers-meadow-selfship

Meadow’s POV:

My schedule was packed to the brim today. I had an early morning meeting with the school board over coffee. I had three classes to teach. And then I had to be home for Hannibal’s dinner party. I was sort of excited for it, Frances helped me pick out a fancy new dress that would knock his socks off.

Sure, maybe my focus should be on actually trying to impress his friends. But I am a woman with needs, and what this woman needs is to be roughly manhandled by her fiancé after teasing him all night. It was the perfect plan, truly. Hannibal was a strong man, but even he couldn’t resist such a simple tactic.

I flatted out my dress as I got out of the car, walking into the coffee shops to see my boss already seated.

“Ahhh, miss Meadow, early as always.”

“Early is on time, on time is late.” I laughed.

“And that’s exactly what I love about you as an employee. Please, sit, I’ve already ordered us some cinnamon cappuccinos.”

“Sound delicious.”

“So, I know you’re wondering why I had to meet with you today. I’ve, there’s no real easy way to approach this subject I guess.”

“Whatever you have to say to me sir, I will be civil as always. There’s no stress here.” I offered.

He seemed a bit high strung. More so than usual. I suppose it wouldn’t be easy it be the head of the board or directors at a university.

“Truly, it’s not a big deal, but you know how these things go.”

I nodded as the barista set our cups at the table, thanking her and handing her a tip as she left to serve someone else.

“A few of the female students have had some complaints?”

“Oh? I was not aware of this.”

“It’s seems, despite me thinking your attire is completely appropriate, they aren’t on the same page. It’s petty, high school nonsense, but they’ve had some complaints about their boyfriends not paying attention during your lectures because there too busy staring at your um…” he cleared his throat, trailing off the sentence.

“Oh, alright. I guess I’ll wear cardigans to class now.”

“Thanks, you know I never would have said anything if-“

“It’s ok Herb, you’re just doing your job. It’s not my fault I have a nice figure, but if it’s genuinely distracting to my students I will try my best to combat that.”

“We’ll that was the extent of business, sorry I set so much time aside for the meeting, you know how it is.”

“Yeah. It’s fine we can just relax and enjoy our coffee for a minuet. It’s peaceful. How are you doing, how are the kids?”

“Oh they’re kids.”

I laughed lightly.

“That and huh?”

“Lacy is suffering from ‘daddy’s girl’ syndrome and Blake doesn’t like it. But how am I meant to stay mad at this face? I hate making my wife the bad guy, but I just can’t do it!”

He showed me a picture of his daughter. She was positively adorable. I didn’t much care for kids, which is why I taught in college. But I could appreciate them for what they were.

“Yeah, I bet with those eyes she gets out of a lot.” I chuckled.

“Don’t you know it. She’s learned the dreaded ‘please’ coupled with the puppy dog eyes. I crack every time. But Blake’s been doing good, he’s starting middle school this year.”

“Is that so? Already! I swear he was just born yesterday.”

“Time flies I guess. Lacy starts kindergarten too, so my wife will have some time alone finally. I feel bad leaving her with the kids all day, but she gets to go out at night with her girls. So we compromise.”

“You have to appreciate a father who actually watches his children. Do you know how many of the male professors I’ve talked to during our monthly mixers that refer to watching their kids as ‘babysitting’? It’s appalling.”

Herb groaned.

“God I know! I could never disconnect myself form my family like that. They’re my everything, no matter how much of a pain in the ass they are. Oh, I’m vo graduations on your engagement by the way. You seem happy, if any deserves it it’s you.”

“Thank you. Honestly it’s so strange, I never really thought I’d be the Marrying type.”

“Have any ideas for the wedding yet?”

“Umm no, we’re taking our time with engagement. Who’s to say just because he put a ring on my finger we gotta get married next month, or even in the next year. I sort of like the title finance.”

Herb laughed lightly.

“I was the opposite. Me and Henrietta eloped, my mother was furious! But we’re thinking this year we’ll have a proper event. That way the kids can be involved in the ceremony when we renew our vows.”

“Oh gosh, that sounds wonderful!”

“You’re invited of course. You’re the best person on my pay roll, I would be honoured to have you there.”

“And I would be honoured to be there for you. You’re one of the best bosses I’ve ever had.”

“You can bring the fiancé.”

“Oh, umm I didn’t tell you did I?”

He shook his head.

“Two fiancés actually. Doctor Lecter and I are polyamorous. I’m afraid my dear Frances would have a fit if they weren’t invited as well. They keep asking to meet my work friends, would it still be ok if I had two plus ones?”

“Oh, gosh, of course. I would love to finally meet this Doctor of yours, and Frances sounds lovely. Consider them invited.”

“Thank Herb, I’m glad things are working out for the both of us. This meeting was nice, you know, other than discovering a bunch of 20 something are apparently getting turned on in my Entomology course.” I laughed.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, wasn’t exactly the type of thing I ever wanted to have to call a meeting about. I really do feel for all the nonsense all the women on my staff have to deal with. Please let me know if there’s anything I can ever actively do to combat stuff like this. Telling you to cover up just doesn’t feel right.”

“Will do boss. You’re one of the good ones Herb, remember that.”

I went to leave some money at the table to pay for my coffee but he stopped me.

“Please, it’s on me.”

I gave him a smile before sending a friendly wave to the barista that had served us. As I made it to the car, I pulled out my phone to check my messages. One from Frances.

Frances:

Don’t tell Hannibal yet, but I had a job interview today and I think it went really well.

Also, I hope your morning meeting went well, have a good day at work.

Also, Also, I can’t wait to see you tonight, or the look on Hannibal’s face ;)

I rolled my eyes at the last message. But I couldn’t help but smile down at my screen. I was used to them texting me everyday, but lately they’ve been more into it. It was sort of adorable, every morning I’d get some sort of good morning text. Around my lunch time, they would sneak little sticky notes into the lunched Hannibal packed that had some sort of corny joke on them. And a “drive safe <3” text when they knew I was about to drive home.

I think they grew bored with sitting around the house all day. After much convincing from both Hannibal and I, the finally agreed to take it easy. Take the time to fully recover from everything they’ve gone through. They hated to admit it, but there was still a lot of physical pain to heal from. And more importantly, mental. But they assured me sessions had been going well with Alana. And I could see the fruits of fruit hard work. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy. Other than when they were on the stage.

Meadow:

My lips are sealed. Meeting went well, Herb wants to meet you. I’ll give more details when you tell me all about this mystery interview later.

I’m off to work, today we’ll be discussing the Giraffe Weevils! Did you know they have them on display in the San Fransisco zoo? Perhaps we can convince Hannibal to take us one day.

Have a good day Darling, I’ll be home soon <3

I didn’t usually like to send emoticons in my messages, but Frances had difficulty reading tone. And besides, it was nice to reciprocate their energy, it made everything feel more casual. They always said I should stop writing my texts as if they were emails. And I think now I understood what they meant. I waited another moment before starting my car, and heard the familiar ding of my phone.

Frances:

Zoo!!!!

I chuckled. Of course that was the only part of that conversation they focused on. I set my phone down and drive to work. I was annoyed with my class for sure. It was entirely embarrassing to be called to your bosses office over something so trivial. But life goes on.

Class went by without any particular problems. It was nice that everything was easy today. No mess, no emergencies, just normal people stuff. And now I got to go home and see my beautiful fiancé and my best friend. And eat dinner and drink wine and not have a single cafe in the world. The perfect end to a mediocre day.

Hannibal greeted me at the door with a swift kiss.

“How was your day my love?”

“Good, it was nice Hannibal. We now have a wedding to go to though.”

“Oh?” He asked, leading me to the kitchen were he was finishing up the feast for his dinner party.

“My boss, he wants to have a proper wedding this time with his kids involved. He invited the three of us.”

“Sounds lovely My Dear.”

He kissed my forehead as I made my way around the counter to sit on the seat. He’d always playfully glare at Frances when they would forgo proper etiquette and hoist themselves up onto the counter top. I would always laugh because it never took him long to drop his frown. I didn’t realise a small chuckle passed my lips.

“And what are you so happy about over there?” He asked.

Oh he was definitely in a good mood today. Hannibal had what I would describe as pleasant moods. Almost as if he detail time in his schedule to have a nice moment. They were careful and calculated, and while sometimes organic, they still felt meticulously planned. Like he only allowed himself to be happy for so long, before he returned to being neutral. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed those moments. But this was so much better, to be privy to Hannibal’s natural and blinding smile was something I thanked god for. It was special.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to see this side of you. You have a gift for making me feel loved and warm.” I said.

“Well I would hope my soon to be wife felt loved by me. I would be miserable at my job if I couldn’t even do that.”

A joke. A rare tease from the mouth of a man who was so stoic and apathetic. I couldn’t stop a grin from taking over my features, and frankly I didn’t want to.

“Oh, so I’m a job to you now hmmm?” I teased.

He made his was across the kitchen, leaning over the counter.

“I don’t hear you complaining whenever I say yes ma’am. And your heart skips a beat and you get that pathetic little look of admiration in those pretty eyes of yours.”

I could feel his breath on my cheek now. And I was certain they were as red as an apple by now.

“Doctor Lecter! Our guest will be here any minute.” I scolded.

“I could always send them away.” He said smoothly.

I had to bite my tongue to strangle the noise bubbling in my throat. Just then the door bell rang.

“You’re unbelievable.” I laughed.

It wasn’t Frances, they have a key. And I couldn’t help but wonder why they weren’t home yet. I sighed, putting on a smile and opening the door for our first guest. Jack and Alana, both always on time.

“Welcome you guys, please come in.” I greeted.

“Whatever Hannibal is cooking smells lovely.” Alana complimented.

“Doesn’t it always?” Jack added.

I let out a short laugh, leading them to the dinning room. One by one our guest for the evening rolled in, but still no Frances. I frowned, checking my phone under the table. Hannibal gently squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear.

“Where is Frances, Darling?” He gently asked.

I sighed.

“I’m sure they be here soon.”

Frances POV:

I raked a forceful hand through my hair. I was pissed, no I was beyond pissed. The audacity of that man, inviting me to an interview under false pretences. And now I was going to be late to dinner. This was bad. I felt awful, Hannibal hated it when people were late. And I was never late to anything. I chuckled at the joke I usually told about even being early to my own birth.

I adjusted my suit jacket in the bathroom and cleaned myself up before heading to my car. I used to just walk everywhere but Hannibal insisted upon buying me the thing. He even got it custom painted in my favourite colour as a surprise. I smiled fondly at the memory. As I wrapped my fingers around the wheel I noticed the faintest hint of a bruise blooming on my knuckles. Shit. Hannibal would definitely notice that.

I drove as quickly as possible to the house, fixing my hair and collecting myself before going in. The soft murmur of voicing was surprisingly calming. At least everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. I quickly made my way to the head of the table to greet Hannibal and apologise for my absence. I didn’t want him to be upset with me.

“Je suis terriblement désolé d'être en retard, Mon Amour, le temps m'a échappé.”

I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. I knew Hannibal wasn’t much for public displays of affection but it felt appropriate. And I’m as certain he’d think the same.

“Suis-je pardonné?”

I placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to give Meadow a kiss on her forehead as well as a silently apology for my tardiness. I noticed Hannibal’s eyes lingering on my hand and cursed under my breath. But quickly replaced a smile on my face. I swiftly moved to take my seat between Meadow and Will.

“Nous parlerons plus tard.” Hannibal offered.

“Of course, Darling.”

“You ok?” Will asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just tried to get here as quick as I could.”

“I’m glad you could make it, Hannibal wouldn’t let us start without you.” Jack commented.

There was no malice in his words, just a playful dribble of banter. I sent him a small smile and rolled my eyes.

“We’ll please, don’t starve on my account.” I laughed.

The food Hannibal prepared was delicious as always. I didn’t realise how hungry I was until I took the first bite.

“So, Meadow, Hannibal tells me you’re a professor at the local university.” A man I’d never met before asked her.

I glanced over his appearance, it was clear he was trying to impress his host. But the smug look that never seemed to leave his face annoyed me. His body was tense, but not overly so. Like he was straining to make polite conversation.

“Oh, yes. I quite enjoy my job. I’m an Entomology professor.”

“Entomology?” He asked.

“They study bugs.” Will offered an answer.

“Wasn’t aware there was much to study there.” He commented flippantly.

My fork was firmly planted on my plate as I clenched my fists under the table and took a deep breath. How dare this stranger come into our house and be rude to my Meadow. But I had to remain civil, I’d already lost my cool once today. And being late didn’t put me in any favour with my beloved. I couldn’t mess this up, it was one dinner.

“Most scientific studies are actually quite impressive and require a great level of intellect, don’t you think?” I asked.

“I suppose so, I don’t believe we’ve been introduce yet. Frederick Chilton.” He offered.

“Frances.”

“Just Frances?” He challenged.

“Just Frances.”

Will gave a confused look from beside me. Probably thrown off by my unusual behaviour.

“I didn’t mean anything by my earlier statement Miss Meadow, I hope you take no offence. I was simply unaware of that branch of science.”

“It’s alright Mr. Chilton.” She shot me a warning look, “most people don’t put much thought into insects. They’re quite exquisite creatures, very important to our ecosystem.”

“I believe you.”

“Mosquitos cannot possibly be important.” Jack laughed.

“And that’s where you’re wrong Mr Crawford. They’re very important in the fertilisation of plants. Though I do suppose we could survive without them, no species relies solely on them for substance.”

“Like I said, not important.”

She laughed as his joke.

“I guess not.”

“Did you know the females only seek blood after they’ve laid their eggs? They require protein to recover.” I added to the conversation.

Meadow looked pleasantly surprised. I chuckled lightly.

“I do listen when you talk, Mon Coeur.”

“Are you from France?” Frederick asked.

I raised my eyebrow at him.

“Oui monsieur, I was moved to America by my previous dance company when I turned fifteen. Maintained my citizenship shortly after that. The United States immigration system is far more forgiving to children.”

“And what was that like?” Alana asked.

“What, moving?” I asked confused.

“No, living in France. Do you miss it?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Sometimes. I don’t remember most of it, stages look the same everywhere, you know?”

“Perhaps I should take you back to France again someday.”

Hannibal spoke up for the first time in a long time that night. He was often content with just listening, a side effect of his job I guess. His words were soft and sincere, at least he was content to be mad at me all evening.

“I would enjoy that very much.” I smiled at him.

“You’ve been to France before right Hannibal?” Alana asked him.

“Yes, a few times now actually. It’s nice there, very quiet.”

He was right, it was quiet. But I couldn’t really bring myself to miss it. What did I have there? Nothing. No one. And quiet got boring. But here, I was never bored. I had friends, and a family. The best partners I could ever have asked for, and I wasn’t even looking. I’m the grand scheme of all the bullshit in my life, they were more than worth it. They made me whole, the way I never thought I could be. I didn’t notice a small tear escape and roll down my cheek.

“You alright Frances?” Will asked once more that evening.

“Huh?”

I quickly wiped the tear from my cheek.

“Yeah, I think I just need a moment. Excuse me.”

I pushed my chair out from under than me and quickly sauntered over to one of our guest rooms. I felt stupid for crying. I hated crying. It was the absolute worst feeling in the world. Even if they were mostly happy tears. So then, why did I feel so awful right now? I heard a gentle knock on the door and was surprised to see Will. He peaked his head in through the door and when he saw no hesitation from me he entered, closing the door behind him.

“What, Hannibal couldn’t even leave his own dinner party?” I joked.

But it didn’t seem to land as his frown deepened.

“I’m worried about you.” He said.

“Don’t be.”

“I’m serious Frances.” He sat beside me on the bed. “You’re my best friend, and you deserve to be happy.”

“And how many times have I said that same thing to you, Mon Ami?”

“Une fois de trop.” He laughed.

It was nice that he and Hannibal could understand me. Meadow didn’t know much French yet but she was learning, and it meant everything to me. She was so cute when she stumbled over her words, and got all flustered after. William placed his hand on mine, making me turn to look at him.

“I’m just-“ I sighed, “I just love them so much, and I know it’s stupid-“

“That’s not stupid.”

“I’ve never loved anybody before William. And I guess I’m scared. We don’t exactly have the most traditional relationship.”

“You hate traditions.” He pointed out.

I laughed softly. He always knew how to make me feel better.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Punched some dumb asshole.”

The look of shock on his face was something to savour. It was hilarious.

“I gotta tell Hannibal but I’m afraid he’ll be upset with me. I was already late, and I keep thinking, what if this is it? What if he realises I’m too much to deal with and leaves me. I mean, why wouldn’t he? He has Meadow and she’s perfect. God, she’s so fucking perfect Will!”

I exasperatedly threw my hands up and fell backwards onto the bed. I hadn’t expected him to start laughing. Why the hell was he laughing? I shot back up and looked at him bewildered.

“Frances I swear, sometimes you are the dumbest person I know.”

“Gee, thanks.” I deadpanned.

“They fucking love you, everyone can see it. The way Meadow’s face lights up every-time you walk into a room. The way she leans in with a smile when you’re talking. And Hannibal, he keeps your favourite flowers in his office because he knows you’re allergic, but they make him smile every-time he looks at them. And he has a photo of the three of you proudly displayed in his desk. It’s the only piece of personal decor in that clinical room.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Frances nobodies leaving you. You think after everything we’ve all been through, you punching some idiot is gonna be the straw that breaks the camels back?”

“I guess that does sound kinda silly.” I sighed. “And Hannibal’s therapy is wearing off on you, you’re starting to sound like him.” I joked, nudging his shoulder.

“Don’t ever say that again.”

I raised my hands in mock surrender.

“Now, I know Frederick is another dumb asshole, but you think you can go back out there and not punch him in the face?”

“I don’t know, will be a pretty difficult task.”

“You’ve never met a task you couldn’t accomplish.”

I smiled.

“What would I do without you Will?”

“Oh you’d definitely be a total disaster.” He grinned.

“You’re lucky I love you.” I squinted.

I head him softly mutter a “yeah I am.”

The rest of the dinner went by smoothly. At least I knew if nobody had my back, Will did. Well him and Winston, that dog was the cutest thing on the damn planet. Will was the last to leave, lingering to make sure I was ok. I walked him to the door and bid him goodnight.

“You better give Winston and the others some love for me or else.”

“You spoil them too much.”

I scoffed.

“Says Mr I keep treats in my coat pocket in case I come across a new stray. Goodnight William.”

“Goodnight Frances.”

I slowly shuffled into the kitchen, knowing I had to get this over with. Hannibal was busy scrubbing dishes while Meadow dried them.

“I’m sorry I was late.” I started.

“It’s ok, we were just a little worried about you. You didn’t send me a text or anything.” Meadow said.

“Yeah sorry, got a bit caught up.”

“So you said.”

Shit, he sounded angry. I hated when he was angry.

“What happened to your hand?”

Of course there was concern, but his approach wasn’t nearly as gentle as Will’s. I fidgeted with my hands, but looked up when I heard the sink turn off. They were both looking at me now and I felt like a little kid.

“Does it hurt?” Meadow asked softly, breaking the tension a little.

I shook my head no.

“Ummm, I was at that job interview I was telling you about earlier.” I started.

Hannibal raised a brow, having never heard it mentioned until now. And I felt bad for that too. But I wanted to surprise him, I wanted it to be a good surprise. And now it just wasn’t.

“Oh, yeah, how did that go?” Her tone was a bit more cheerful.

“I got the job.” I said.

“That’s great, Frances, I’m so proud of you.”

“That doesn’t explain my question.”

I frowned. I knew he was upset but I figured if I delivered the good news first he’d at least be happy.

“Turns out, the interview wasn’t really meant to be an interview and now I feel stupid.” I mumbled.

All hardness dropped from his face and Meadow looked concerned. She came over to me, silently asking for permission if she could touch me, which I gratefully gave to her. She gently grabbed my hand, running her hands over the bruise.

“I’m sorry.” She stated simply.

It was sincere, earnest, now fluff to distract from its meaning. Which was something I loved so much about her. She didn’t surround herself with filler words with worthless meaning. If Meadow said something, you couldn’t help but believe it.

“What happened?”

It was still angry, but not at me. Which eased my nerves a little. I just stood there staring at my feet. I didn’t know how to explain what happened. I should have realised something was up.

“Frances, please.” He said softly.

I finally looked up at him and he looked defeated. It made my heart break.

“Umm, yeah.” God I cringed.

I sounded so weak and disoriented when I was upset. It’s like every word I ever knew flew from my head to fast for me to catch them.

“I was really excited when I got the phone call saying they were interested. But a few questions into the interview I realised he wasn’t really interested in an interview. You know I’m really bad about telling when people are flirting with me.”

“The interview was flirting with you?” And there was that anger again.

“But I promise I shut it down right away. I kept trying to dodge him until the interview was over but he kept pushing. He tried to kiss me when I went to leave, and I just sorta froze again. But then he started saying something about me not getting the job unless I gave him what he wanted and I lost it. So I punched him, god I’m so sorry Hannibal.”

I watched him take a shaky breath and prepared for him to yell at me, squeezing Meadow’s hand, but it never came.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry you had to experience that.” Meadow said kindly.

She pulled me in for a hug.

“Why would you be sorry, Love?”

Hannibal said in a shaky breath.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked more evenly.

“No. After I punched him he called me a bitch. But I um, I told him that what he did was assault. And I may have mentioned that my best friend was in the FBI. So I guess I may or may not be blacking mailing my boss. But yay, new job right!” I tried to put on a smile.

“Absolutely not.” Hannibal seethed. “You’re not going anywhere near that man ever again.”

“Hannibal-“ Meadow tried.

“I said no. Frances there are other jobs, if I ever made you feel pressured to start working again that was not my intention.” He said honestly.

“Not jobs that I want. Hannibal I really really want this job. And I think it will be good for me. I can handle some perverted asshole. If I turned down a job every time someone tried to touch me I’d never have a job again.” I said dismissively.

Not of his feelings of course, more of my own. He had every right to be upset about the situation. We were engaged, I love him and somebody made me feel worthless and gross.

“Then you’re not getting a job.” He said.

“Darling, just please listen to them ok. You can be a little headstrong sometimes.”

“He tried to kiss them Meadow, does that not matter to you?”

I flinched a little at his tone. It was hard to remind myself that he wasn’t actually angry with either of us.

“Of course it does! How could you ask me that?”

Fuck, this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to start a fight. Maybe Will was wrong, maybe I shouldn’t be here. It was my fault they were arguing and I felt helpless against it.

“I want to go down there and kick this man where the sun doesn’t shine, but Frances is trying to talk to us. The least we can do is listen to their reasoning.”

He sighed and turned back to see me now shaking. The panic in his eyes didn’t make me feel any better. He took a step toward me, but I stepped back, hugging my arms around myself.

“Frances?” He tried.

“Please don’t fight because of me. I don’t want you to fight.” I said frantically.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice. Everything ok My Love, just breath for me alright?”

I nodded, taking a shaky deep breath. He waited for me to calm myself a little before stepping near me again. This time I didn’t move and he swiftly swept me into a bone crushing hug. He gentle caressed my head.

“Tell me about this job, yeah?” He asked softly.

“It’s a teaching position. I’ll be teaching a few different style of dance to children a couple days a week. And one adult class on Friday evenings.” I explained.

Meadow stayed back, just watching.

“And you’ll be happy doing this.”

“I really will.”

He sighed once more.

“Fine, but I’m dropping you off on your first day. I want to meet him.”

“No!” Meadow and I said in sync.

“Relax my loves, I’m not going to do anything. I just want him to know he can’t touch what’s mine.”

I giggled lightly at that. Meadow rolled her eyes.

“So jealous.” She teased playful.

“I’m not jealous Darling, that would mean I’m envious of something that man has, which is highly unlikely. Jealousy is beneath me.”

“You keep telling yourself that buddy.”

I gently tapped on his chest twice, and he raised a brow looking down at me.

“You two are going to be the death of me, you know that right?” He asked.

Meadow joined in on the hug, crushing me between them.

“Oh no, dying surrounded by love and adoration, I feel so sorry for you.”

Her sarcasm was contagious. Hannibal rolled his eyes.

“Do me a favour,” Hannibal started.

“Yes, anything.” I said, smiling up at him.

“Next time you feel like you have to punch something, call me. I don’t want you damaging that pretty skin of yours.” He said smoothly.

He placed a gentle kiss on my knuckle and I giggled once more.

“Always the gentleman.” I teased.

“Are you alright from earlier?” He asked, referring to dinner.

“Yeah, William and I had a good chat. He’s good people Hannibal, please don’t ruin him.”

“I’m not ruining anybody, Darling, at least not anyone who didn’t deserve it. William is my friend.”

Such a simple answer. But I could tell he meant it.

“Thank you.”

I leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“I don’t know about the two of you, but all this arguing made me tired.” Meadow grinned, before sprinting off to the bedroom.

I followed quickly after her, trying to beat her to the bed. It was chidlinsh, but maybe that what we needed at a time like this. By the time Hannibal made it to the room, the two of us were nearly in a pillow fight. He chuckled softly leaning against the door frame. He cleared his throat, gaining our attention.

“Oh, and Frances… if your boss ever so much as looks at you wrong again, we’re having him for dinner.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

An: This all takes place before they were ever married still. Also I picked one of my special interests for Meadow’s career so then I can write more accurately about it. Can’t get in the mindset of a super smart college professor if you don’t know anything about the subject they’re supposed to be an expert in.

#Hannibal spouses #Hannibal #hannibal imagine #Hannibal x oc #Hannibal x reader #Hannibal lecter #meadow lecter #Frances lecter #alana bloom #Freddie Lounds #frederick chilton

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dreamwreaver · 2 years

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Hey, I know you’re probably not in the fandom anymore but I really, really need you to know just how amazing you are. Since I got into the beetlejuice fandom recently I came across your works on ao3 and I actually genuinely will never be the same again. Yes, there are others who write beetlebabes, but your works are somehow so unique, the tone and setting of your fanfics is something I fail to find in other fanfics and the way write both Lydia and Beetlejuice seems so human, so vivid, something about it makes it so easy to slip yourselves into either of their shoes, feel whatever they’re feeling, and it’s such an amazing thing you’ve done. You have no idea how many nights I’ve stayed up till 5am squealing at your fanfics because the sexual tension and everything else seemed so tangible, it made me feel so many things I can’t even begin to explain.

I’m the type of fanfic consumer who writes what they can’t find and since I’ve finished just about all your works in Beetlejuice, I’ve tried to write my own fanfics for Beetlejuice but for the first time, for some reason it’s hard to write what I want to while keeping in line with what I think Lydia’s and Beetlejuice’s reactions would be to the situations I put them in, does that make sense? And I go back to your fanfics to try and get an idea of what I want out of my works, and I’m still working on it to this day.

But anyway, I just wanted to gush about how amazing your works have been, and I know you’re probably not into Beetlejuice anymore, but I just want you to know you’ve changed me through your fanfics, it’s become part of my daily routine and I just thought you ought to know how talented you are as a writer. I have never been this invested in anyone’s fanfics before, which is why it’s special to me and why I really wanted to write this to you to thank you. I don’t expect you to write for beetlejuice anymore or anything like that, I just really, really wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I’m into Hazbin Hotel too, if you ever wanna talk about other things. Once again, I love you, and thank you for writing so many works in Beetlejuice to keep me going. You have no idea how much it means to me. If you ever need me or wanna keep in touch, reply to this, I’ll be following your posts <3

Oh man, where do I begin to respond to this? I'm gonna be honest Nonny, I was fighting back tears and had a huge grin while reading this. And this is also why it's been sitting in my inbox. I wanted to give this ask the care and consideration you obviously gave me while writing this. I suppose the most simple thing to say is; thank you.

Thank you for your kind words and thank you for loving my work. It's always a pleasure to know something I wrote even as recently as a month ago has made an impact on someone, let alone something written years ago. As far as Beetlejuice goes; I'm not as active in terms of content creation but it's not as though I've left the fandom entirely. I occasionally check the tags here on tumblr but most of the people making content I get excited about I tend to chat with on other platforms like discord. There's quite a few active Beetlejuice servers on there, it's just a matter of finding the right fit for you.

I do love Hazbin Hotel, but I'm not as vocal in the fandom because the chalastor antis have been especially virulent as of late and I learned my lesson about burn out from Beetlejuice. Baiting and hating on them does nothing, so I tend to gripe about the more stupid ones and then I laugh and move on. To be quite honest I haven't been writing much because I moved and my setup isn't put back together yet. I try but unfortunately it is frowned upon to write fanfic at work lol.

Feel free to follow my posts, it's usually just me reblogging funny nonsense or cool art. I have a list a problematic ships a mile wide so hang on, you might find something else you're into haha.

#answered asks #dream replies #thank you nonny #i appreciate it

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treaddelicately · 4 years

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In case anyone was curious, I’ve started working on my new Theonsa multichapter fic (psst, it’s a sort of sequel to Hurt Somebody!!) and the first step is outlining and building my playlist. Here’s just a little taste of the 37 songs so far, but it’s pretty all over the place.

It’s also a hell of a lot of fluff. 😉

#theonsa #i don’t even know how else to tag this nonsense i’m just so excited you guys

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theringers · 3 years

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often - charles leclerc

summary: you’re unbelievably desperate for your boyfriend all night.

request: Hope u dont mind me requesting #79 and #82 w charles or lando😃 have a good day!!

prompt: 79) "Look at you, grinding against everything, you're really desperate for it. Aren't you?" 82) "Yeah, that's it, baby, just like that."

a/n: this is short & unedited so i apologize for the lack of “story” but this just came to my brain and i needed to write it down so enjoy also sorry if the gif is malfunctioning i’m ready to throw my phone at the window so just ignore lol

warnings: nsfw, dirty talk, 18+, teasing, obvi i had to include some public stuff bc it’s my brand

The live music was loud and blaring through your ears. You had requested a few songs and enjoyed drinks while you waited for the band to get to your request.

Charles stood up from the table to head towards the crowded bar. “Need anything, mon amour?” He looked at you.

You lifted your cup and smiled. “Another?” He nodded at you and walked towards the corner of the room. He knew you had a tolerance like no other and could outdrink him on any occasion. It was just humorous to him at this point.

“Are you excited for your trip?” Your friend asked from across the table.

“Oh, so excited. Charles and I haven’t been able to get away for a long time. It’s much needed.” You sat in your bar stool day dreaming about the blue waters of the Caribbean Sea and how you were about to spend weeks out there on the relaxing water.

Your friend took another sip of her drink. “I’m insanely jealous. Too bad Pierre and I can’t tag along.” She frowned.

“Next time, I promise. We’ll plan a trip just the four of us.” You both started laughing. “Or better yet, just the two of us. Girls trip.”

After a few more laughs, Charles walked up to your table with a drink in each hand. Pierre followed with the same. “Thank you,” you smiled at your boyfriend as he handed you another. You couldn’t remember how many this had been but you were feeling good and really enjoying yourself.

You sat all the way back in your barstool, but kept your drink at the table. This was the best possible solution to avoid drinking too quickly. Every time you needed a sip, you had to scoot yourself closer to the table, take a sip, and sit back. It was working pretty well.

Charles leaned over and spoke in your ear over the sound of the loud music. “I’m going to need you to stop doing that.”

You looked at him, confused. “What am I doing?”

He waved his hand around. “This.” He leaned in closer again. “You keep rocking your hips back and forth and it’s driving me crazy.”

You sat up and moved yourself closer to the table, rocking your hips at a painfully slow, yet discreet, pace. Your eyes found his and his focus was solely on you, sipping the remains of your drink.

“Anyone want another drink?” You asked the table as you hopped out of your seat.

“I’m good, I think I’m ready to head home soon actually. Pretty long day,” Charles said.

Your friend scoffed. “Nonsense, it’s only 11 o’clock.”

Charles looked at her with his head hung, then back at you. “Fine. One more drink.” He looked at Pierre. “See, this is what we have to deal with.”

You waited in the line for drinks and returned to your table. As soon as you scooted back in your barstool, Charles leaned over. “This is our last round of drinks. I’m going to need to take you home after this one.” You didn’t look over at him. You just kept your eyes straight ahead and smiled.

After more casual conversation with Pierre and his girlfriend, Charles called the car home. He took your hand and lead you out of the bar after leaving a hefty tip for the bartender.

Sliding into the back seat of the car, he acknowledged the driver and then went silent. You followed in after him, sliding across the seats. Your short sundress rode up creating friction between your clit and the car seats. You let out a soft moan, but ignored it, hoping no one else heard you. That was not the case.

The car started to move and Charles leaned over to you. He rested his hand on your thigh and whispered in your ear. “I heard that.” It sent chills up your spine.

The rest of the ride was silent, trying to focus on getting home without jumping each other’s bones in the backseat of the car. As soon as you arrived home, you both drunkenly stumbled in the door.

You shouted at Alexa to play some of your favorite music. Often by The Weeknd came out of your speakers.

Charles sat down on the couch with his hands on his knees. A deep breath escaped his lips as he took in the dark apartment around him.

“What’s up?” You asked, walking over to him.

“Long day,” he said. You nodded in response.

Leaning down towards him, you spread your legs to straddle him on the couch. You sat back with your weight on his knees, looking at him. “I love you,” you said to him.

“I love you too, mon amour,” he said. You felt his hands grip your waist. You began to slowly shift your hips around - starting with back and forth, and a little bit of side to side.

“I had a really fun time tonight,” you said.

“Me too, I’m glad we decided to go out.”

“It’s always a good time with them.” You were lucky enough to play matchmaker for Pierre, setting him up with your best friend. It was a win-win. He got a beautiful girlfriend and in return, you got to have your best friend accompany you on vacations, to races, PR events, galas, the whole nine. It was a smart move on your part.

You looked down at Charles, focusing on his messy hair. He was always such a perfectionist about how he appeared, but that all went down the drain when he drank alcohol. You kind of loved it, seeing him let loose a bit and not care so much. You ran your fingers through his messy locks and smiled.

“That dress looks so sexy on you,” he said. His eyes absorbed your body all over and his hands began to move up and down your sides.

“I knew you would like it.” You started to move your hips with more intensity.

“You want to tell me about what happened in the car?” He asked.

“I think you know what happened in the car.”

He had a smug look on his face. “I don’t, actually. Enlighten me.”

“Well, since you want to play dumb,” you grabbed one of his hands off of your side and guided it under your dress. “I’m not wearing any underwear. And I forgot I wasn’t until I slid in the car.” His fingers massaged the skin of your inner thigh.

“That’s hot.” He dipped a finger between your folds and felt the wetness pooling. He swirled his finger around a few times before sliding it inside of you. You moved your hips slowly, meeting his finger. “Look at you, grinding against everything. You’re so desperate for me, huh?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes at him but continued to move your hips. “You couldn’t even help yourself at the bar tonight. Or in the car.”

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you,” you said. You leaned down to unbutton his pants, grinding your body against his thigh in the process. You let out a moan and he just watched you in awe.

You pulled his pants down, his hard cock springing free. You got back on top of him and hiked your dress up above your hips. You positioned yourself on top of his cock and started to slide back and forth, creating euphoric friction for both of you. Your folds were wet and warm, making him grunt. “Shit, baby,” he said. His head fell back against the couch as he guided your hips. “I need to be inside of you, now.”

You pulled away and quickly sat down on his cock. He kept his hands positioned on your hips as you ground them onto him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your head fall onto his shoulder.

You put the weight on your knees and began to bounce up and down on him. He placed his hands on your ass for support. “Oh yeah, that’s it baby,” he said. “Just like that.” A throaty moan escaped your lips right into his ear.

“You feel so good,” you said. The rhythm continued and he spread your cheeks. He was itching to pound into you but he loved the way you looked bouncing on his cock.

He reached for the strap of your dress, pulling it down to expose your breasts. He took one in his hand and massaged it roughly. “Shit, babe. Look at you riding my cock like such a good girl.” He wasn’t one to talk dirty too much, but with alcohol involved he was an open book.

“I’m all yours, baby,” you said, leaning back. You ran your hands through your hair while riding him and made eye contact with him - driving him crazy.

You could feel him start to thrust up into you, an indication that he was getting close. You leaned back down to his ear. “Cum for me, baby,” you said.

He finished with a grunt and a tight grip on your hips. You rolled off of him and laid your head down on a pillow. After all that alcohol, the couch was seeming like a perfect place to crash.

Charles returned with a towel and a glass of water for you. “You did so well, baby. That was hot.” He said, smiling at you and handing you the glass of water.

You giggled and stuck your tongue out. “You’re welcome.”

#f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc smut #cl16 #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc prompt #cl

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag. You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash. You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing. jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. idiots to lovers. fluff, angst, smut. the holy trifecta, babies! explicit, obviously.

tags / warnings. mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc. 12.2k of nonsense. pure nonsense, i tells ya.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her. i love you both sm!!! ✨💜

author note. the long-awaited fic is here!! i really hope you enjoy it. if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something? i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot. anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you! stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker. That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him. It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard.

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove. Sometimes, she’s by herself; often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste. They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique. Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be. You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit.

“He has no idea.” It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts. “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder. How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair? It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie.

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”. Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else. Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention. Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him. Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face.

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,” she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does. She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough. Zero tact, though. Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble. You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested. “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags. (God, what awful taste.) There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best. (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction. You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place. Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on. When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes. He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW. Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress is.

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect. It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?” He upspeaks. It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first. A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect. “What’s the item and the name it’s under?” You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine. Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

You’re floored. This is Jeon Jungkook? This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger? You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face. It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers. “I’ll grab it! The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly. He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends. He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance. It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears. There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend? I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.” Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off. “She said she was leaving on Friday.” Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made. “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall. You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.

You do feel bad. Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this. For hurting this stranger. (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality. He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip. He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet.

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off. Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in. (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.) As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth. “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend. Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid. Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours. Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say. Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation. “Oh, maybe. I’m sorry.” The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t. That’s a thing, right? Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?

God, you’re an altruist.

“It’s fine.” When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not. You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word. (You won’t.)

“Here it is!” Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands. If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing. You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand. He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying. You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start. Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,” you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands. It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card. The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently. You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder. It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum. (You either, but still.)

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers. “What?”

“You know— that!” She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago. “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,” you correct.

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response. There it is.

“What?” There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable.

“What?” It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery. You can read every emotion that runs through her expression: shock, displeasure, confusion.

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth. (She really does remind you of your little sister.) “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder. You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now. There was no way he didn’t.

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts. That’s all.” You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done. You’d want to know if you were him. Consider it an act of goodwill.

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind. What’s done is done. Now he knows, or something close to it. The chips would simply fall where they were meant to.

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him.

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift. She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway. Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding. It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship.

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening.

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter. “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression. “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.” You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person. Sensible.

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front. You suppose it’s your responsibility now. You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell.

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?” Upspeaking again. How cute.

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.” You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter. “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“ It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice. Um, I can come pick it up today?” There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back. “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out. He truly was a sucker.

“That’s fine. We’re open until six tonight.”

“I’ll be there before dinner.” As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough. “Before six, I mean. Um, is around five-thirty okay?”

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation. Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation. “Of course. We’ll see you then.”

He hangs up immediately.

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last. It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest. You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon. You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday. Somehow, you like it more. The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair. It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person. (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him. Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.

“O-oh. It’s you.” The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified. “I m-mean, just—” He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again. “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.” Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.

“That’s right,” you say evenly, expression neutral. It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary. Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room. You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?” He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store. You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again. He makes the same trip twice more. “Can I have it?” To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed. He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress. Good job, you think.

“Of course.” You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter. Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip. You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything. (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment. Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides. It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended. Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact. “May I have it, please?”

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand. You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable. Is he going to say thank you? Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems. “Why did you do it?” There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?” You know what he means. You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?” Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you. You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him; it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side. For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies. It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his. “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?”

“What do you mean?”

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror. He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head. It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin. (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes. Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.” For once, he doesn’t sutter. The lisp doesn’t present itself, either. Was this the same Jungkook? You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?” He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name. How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit? It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?” The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no. You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly. It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.

“I mean like— talk talk.” The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else. His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.

“Sure, we can talk talk.”

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“W-what? No!” Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears. “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding. Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance. He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow. Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down. His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving. You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie. It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall. “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly. “Huh?”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Um—” He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence. There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking. “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out. “You want to talk about… you?”

“That sounds bad.” The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.

“It’s fine. We’ll talk at dinner.”

He nods. You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy. Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?” He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden. Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure. (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.” Everything here is incredible. You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place. His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel. You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish.

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections. Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?” You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute. “So?”

“What did you want to talk about?” If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often. As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper.

“Oh.” Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth. He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle. You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting. He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected. It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline. “What?”

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot. You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip. Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.” It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you. You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel. Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you. You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable. A little different, sure, but altogether nice. Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake. You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not. His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does. (Seriously, how big are his eyes?) You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth. Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?” He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.

“What?” You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out. It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent. Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.” Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare. “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?” The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.

“That’s not my name.” The bite disappears past his teeth. You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook. Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do. Juvenile in a way but enticing in another. You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,” he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down. (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.) “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation. He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations. He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea. Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,” you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.” He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact. “You care about people. You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone. You want to do what’s right. Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey. He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts. He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up. He decorates his apartment with the most random things: limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates. He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years. All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on. (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.) He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his). He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,” he insists from behind his coffee cup.

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable.

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.” It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap. It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now. He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had. Youngin is good for him, though. You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips. When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone. “Girls are scary.”

You laugh. Cackle, really. You can’t help it. He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon. He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak. He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says. (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary. Death is scary. Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.” He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest. From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture; from him, it’s patient. “Girls aren’t scary. Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.”

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good. Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags. Like he’s living life in greyscale.

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze. Instead, he laughs. “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.” You’re adamant, insistent. He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft. An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.

You want to protect him, teach him to fly. Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes. He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it. He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.

“Fine,” he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long. It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused. It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days. You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse. If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton. He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew). He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it. (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?” It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso. It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm.

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him. He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for. To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings. “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is.

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence? (You wish you were joking.) It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.

“This one?” He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face. Medium-weight cashmere. Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist. It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,” you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels. “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law. You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.” He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.

Your response is a shrug. “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.” You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates. You know there’ll be something good on the menu.

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist. You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him. Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink. Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch. That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other. “Hey! You’re leaving already?” It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone. It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes. For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes. “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.” A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh? Well, that’s certainly something new. Good for him, you think.

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.” It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words. “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her. Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes). Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date. It’s a big deal.

“Yeah—“ Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky. “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“I will,” he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place. It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look. “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever). It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you. He’s going on a second date, after all. Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant. You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine. Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine. The two of you are friends. You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come. Baby boy was growing up.

“Y’know.” You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment. It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?” He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.

You wiggle your hand dismissively. “Second date and all that.”

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on. It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots. “Just stick around. I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him. “Fine. I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door. “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,” you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake. It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook. This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook: Hey. from jeon jungkook: I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook: If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook: Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date. It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing. (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook: i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops. Of course. He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions. (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook: it’s fine! have fun! to jeon jungkook: turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up. Good, you think. About time he finds someone nice. You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact. He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic.

“I want you to meet her,” he mumbles, like that makes it better. As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?” He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over. (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.) You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.” But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is. Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately. “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that. No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman. It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set. Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise. It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch. (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.” His vague response speaks volumes. The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery. When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway. “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!” Of course. It’s obvious. She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that. (He is.) “I’m not coming to dinner.”

“You’re already in the car,” he reasons.

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve. Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.” When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him. Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal. Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,” he repeats, almost pleading. You can’t look at him. You won’t. The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause.

“Fine.” You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off. You’re not actually mad. Just worried. You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand. It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person. You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that. Should, anyway. You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it. He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line. (Truthfully, it’s your fault. All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by. You’ve got a reputation to uphold.

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat? How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer: you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.

“What’re you doing here?” At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness. Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really). “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge. It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired. So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance. He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin. You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day. “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,” the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well. Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,” you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold. You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else. If you had to guess, it’s her perfume. It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses. You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter. You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare. “So?”

“W-what?”

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning. Something’s happened. Must have. There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?” You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him. He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression. He’s stalling, you can tell. You hate when he does this. You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small. “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced. What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges. You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual. Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned. (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.

“So.” You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves. You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest. He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs. Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.” The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said. Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look. It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?” It explodes out, a question that demands an answer.

He’s staring past your head, unblinking. You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp. “I c-couldn’t. It was just…” The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”

“Just—” There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot. He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise. He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket. “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean? Feel right?

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete. It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down. Didn’t he understand that? Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’” You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window. “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately. He doesn’t.

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?”

“You like her, right?”

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out. Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there. “So, you like her.” It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way; you don’t mean it in any way but supportive. You just want him to be happy. “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer. But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise. Hope, maybe? Fear?

“What?” You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight. He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer. (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest. His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair. He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer. Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,” he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.” It’s cruel. “You’re making a bad choice. You’re into this girl. Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements. “I’m not dumb.” There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask. It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay. Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question. You can’t blame her. You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.

“What?” It’s less snark, more sigh. You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter. “You’ve been in a bad mood all week. I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.” She’s right, of course. You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what. “Did something happen?”

You grit your teeth. An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,” she tries again, concerned.

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!” She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly. “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough. So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right. It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload. (Maybe it’d be helpful. Probably. But you’ve never found comfort in other people. At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.” Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on. “It’s fine. Really.” You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I just need to get some sleep.” And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action. It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.” You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater. He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,” he mutters, refusing to meet your stare. At least, you think he’s refusing. It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes. It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away. It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?” You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated. He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding. “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.” This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him. He hums a noise but offers nothing further.

This is how it’ll be then. Fine. If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go. He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth. “I— I don’t— I didn’t say that.”

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now. Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.

“W-what?”

“Tell me.” You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round. “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters. What have I got that she doesn’t?”

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. You think he might say no, outright refuse. You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.

“You’re funny. You’re honest. You speak your mind.” You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people. He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him. “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t. You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen. As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.” He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again. “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”

There’s something thick in your throat.

“You make me want to try.” He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it. “Y-you make things not so scary.”

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you. He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself. You make me laugh.” He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.” You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit. Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs. Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words. They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism. “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention. “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here. Just a chance.” He’s got a peculiar look on his face. “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, he’s close. Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be. There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down. The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.

“You kind of ruined my life. I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense. You’d ruined his life? (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.) You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.

“I’m kidding.”

It feels like whiplash. You’ve created a monster.

“But you do owe me, I think. So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing. He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams.

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out. He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed. He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money. He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him). If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either. Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge. He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,” he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you. You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom. “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff. It’s adorable.

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends. You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head. You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups. Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together. Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects. Surely there’s more to this. Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?” You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”

“A playsuit?” You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in. Would it even fit? Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns. “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected. Or at least, you think it does. If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim.

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal. He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,” he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds. The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs. He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick. “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.

“Use your words, gorgeous.” As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck. He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob. Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh. He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be. The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.

“You like this, don’t you?” His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy. “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,” you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts. The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin. Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.

“Good girl.” Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips. You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall. Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips. “Such a good girl for me. My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she? Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard. Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate. It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest. Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it. Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear. You know he’ll catch you. “I want you.”

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same. Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm. The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,” he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer. Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am. I am. I am,” you chant, tears welling along your lash line. They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you. It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you.

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much. Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings @veronawrites @notmontae97 @papillonsgf i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Ice Cream Weekends

Hi, this is just fluff. Pure fluff and nothing else. (Reverse Robins and Bio!dad Bruce)

Ages: Damian (23) Marinette (21) Tim (16) Jason (14) Dick (9)

“Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s one weekend. We’re not helpless.” Marinette reassures her dad, practically pushing him out the door. If he cancelled another trip with Selina, she’d be pissed. And a pissed off Selina means that the wedding is gonna be pushed back and Marinette was not about to let that happen. Not again.

“Are you sure you and Damian can handle the others? And you’re sure I don’t need someone to fill in for Alfred?” He asks, obviously trying to find a reason to stay. Marinette huffs, crossing her arms as she glares up at her dad.

“Are you forgetting that I basically grew up in a French bakery before coming to live with you? Seriously?” She points out, smirking at the resigned look on his face.

“It’s the first time I’ve left Dick alone.” He says softly. She glances behind her, where Dick was currently chasing Jason in an attempt to get him to play tag. Her youngest brother was sweet, and despite the incident at the circus, seemed to be adjusting okay.

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. I promise.” She says.

“Call me or Selina if you guys need anything. And I mean anything.” He says. She agrees, and waves as he gets into the car. Yeah, she’ll call them. When hell freezes over. She was not about to be the one to ruin their romantic weekend. If they really needed them, she’d make Damian call. He didn’t care about possibly ruining a romantic weekend. Locking the door, she turns and whistles, grinning as her youngest brother runs right to her, standing at attention. The other two trail behind him, neither looking excited.

“Okay men, we have an entire weekend without Dad. Do you know what that means?” She asks, posing to try and mimic a general.

“Ice cream for dinner!” Dick cheers, jumping up and down. Marinette grins.

“Right you are, soldier! What else?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tim.

“No sleep?” He asks, finally smiling.

“Like that’s any different for you.” Jason mumbles with crossed arms.

“Good job boys. And what’s the last thing?” She asks, grinning as they all look confused. Perfect. “Nobody tells Dad!” She cheers, laughing as Dick whoops and starts running in circles.

“Or, you could be responsible like you told Father you would be. Actually make them eat dinner and sleep. Two things that are important for their health.” Damian drawls, walking into the room with his arms crossed. Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Or, you could stop being such a buzzkill.” She suggests. He scowls.

“I am not a buzzkill. I am, however, taking Father’s instructions seriously. Grayson and Todd are both supposed to be in bed no later than eleven.” He says.

“That’s not fair! What about-” Jason argues, clearly about to mention patrol, something he knew he wasn't supposed to mention around Dick. It was bad enough that Jason and Tim had taken up the mantle of Robin at 12. Dick would not be allowed out of the house in costume for several years. No way.

“Father said that Drake and I will handle it. You, Marinette and Grayson will remain here.” Damian says in a no-nonsense tone.

“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun! Dad and Alfred are gone, it’s okay to just relax.” Marinette insists, letting Dick grab her hand as she starts towards the kitchen. “Dick and I are going to make gigantic ice cream sundaes and eat until we get sick. You losers can either join us, or go eat some stupid dinner that Damian buys because I’m not cooking tonight.” She adds, laughing as Dick cheers.

“Yeah losers! Mari and I are the best!” He yells, practically vibrating in excitement. Marinette grins. This was going to be the best weekend ever. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the stack of special bowls she had bought specifically for this weekend. They were huge, perfect for giant ice cream sundaes and she’d gotten one for each of her siblings. She figured Jason would trail in eventually, if only to get away from Damian. She loved her brothers, truly she did. But every time he had to wear the cowl, Damian got cranky. It was annoying. She may find his uniform as Red Bird disgusting, but he was always more relaxed as his own persona. Pulling out several different types of ice cream and all of the toppings she could find, Marinette grins at the completely covered counter.

“Okay kiddo, how’re we doing this?” She asks, completely prepared to watch her youngest brother slip into a sugar coma.

“Can I have anything?” He asks, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“Of course.” She says.

“Then I want chocolate ice cream and cookies n cream ice cream and cookie dough ice cream and fruity pebbles ice cream and the peanut butter cup ice cream with hot fudge and marshmallows and caramel and gummy bears and m&ms and whipped cream and a cherry and, oh! Sprinkles! Lots and lots of sprinkles!” He lists off all in one breath. Marinette blinks at him before nodding and beginning to scoop ice cream.

“It’s your sundae, kid.” She says, trying to ignore the nagging thought (that sounds an awful lot like Damian) that this was a horrible idea. She wasn’t going to listen, because that would mean admitting defeat and Dick would probably be upset. So hopefully nothing too bad happens.

“What the hell?” Jason asks, walking in. Marinette frowns.

“Language, Jay.” She reminds him, nodding towards Dick. He rolls his eyes, ruffling Dick’s hair before grabbing a handful of gummy bears.

“Is all that ice cream for him?” He asks, pointing at the huge bowl that she was currently drowning in toppings.

“Yup. Told you guys we’re going to eat ourselves into sugar comas.” She says, passing her little brother his sundae before starting on (a smaller) one for herself.

“Think you can get me a couple scoops of strawberry?” Jason asks after a pause. She looks over at him and grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She teases, switching over to getting his ice cream. She glances over at Dick, eyes widening when she sees the huge dent he’s already made in his ice cream. “Hey, slow down kiddo. You’re gonna get a brain freeze.” She says. He nods, but continues shoveling the ice cream in at an alarming rate. Marinette passes Jason his ice cream while sliding a glass of water to Dick. He frowns at it.

“What’s that for?” He asks with a pout as he hugs his ice cream bowl closer.

“It’s so you can slow down. I don’t actually want you in a sugar coma, buddy.” She says softly, he sighs, but still takes a long drink of water. Finishing up the toppings on her sundae, Marinette grins as Tim walks in.

“Does your offer of ice cream for dinner still stand?” He asks, holding a cup of what she knows to be coffee. She hums, turning to the freezer and grabbing the one ice cream she hadn’t offered to Dick.

“Is your favorite flavor still ‘Coffee Bean Blast’ from Trader Joe’s?” She asks, holding the container. Tim nods with a grin, watching as she gets him several large scoops.

“Thanks Mars.” He says, taking the bowl from her and adding his toppings. Hot fudge and chocolate covered espresso beans. She starts putting away the toppings and ice cream so that they won’t melt, knowing the chances of Damian joining them were slim. He’d never really acted like a kid. Not as long as she’d known him. And since he’s Batman for the weekend, he’d be even less likely to do anything fun. Just as she’s closing the last ice cream container, the kitchen door swings open again.

“I think it may be beneficial for our….bond as siblings, if I were to participate in this ice cream for dinner experiment.” Damian says, his face serious as he walks in. Marinette raises an eyebrow in surprise, but grins at her brother.

“What flavor?” She asks. This was going to be the best weekend ever.

---

Bonus: “I blame you for giving him so much sugar!” Damian yells, stacking a smaller stepladder onto their tallest ladder.

“How was I supposed to know the kid would be able to get up onto the chandeliers?” Marinette counters, sticking mattresses underneath where Dick was hanging precariously, a large grin on his ice-cream covered face. Maybe next time she shouldn’t let him have so much ice cream.

@maribat-bdbwm

#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #mbdbwm2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat tim drake #maribat dick grayson #maribat damian wayne #maribat jason todd #platonic dickinette #platonic timari #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #reverse robins

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comfortwriting · 4 years

Text

Best friends Brother - G.W

Part 1 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2

George Weasley x Fem Reader

About: The Reader is falling for her best mates older brother, she confines in Ron who is already afraid of losing his best friend to the brothers he’s so pressured to be like.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mention of food and eating, but of angst, George punching a creep.

Walking away from Hagrid’s hut towards the castle, thoughts about the more quiet Weasley twin filled your hazy head - you were planning on shooting your shot, but first you needed some advice and the only person who could do that right now is your best friend Ron - currently chewing your ear off about Hermione and the house elves.

“She doesn’t know when to stop does she? All the S.P.E.W nonsense, if she brings it up one more time-”

“Hey, do you think George likes anyone?” you asked as cool as possible, trying to contain your nervousness and excitement.

Although you and George had only spoken few words to one another, he was all you could think about, all you ever thought about, day in day out. You would share sweet glances and looks across the common room in the evening, the beautiful amber glare coming from the flames projecting onto George’s face, making him look like an angel.

As much as you liked him, you were terrified that he wouldn’t feel the same, that he only saw you as his little brothers best friend - you hated it.

Ron slowed down from his brisk walk and he continued to stare at the ground “George? As in.. my brother?”

“yeah” you smiled shyly, swallowing hard.

Ron could feel his heart flutter, the idea of another person - his best friend - favouring one of his legendary twin brothers over him made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t lose anyone else, he wouldn’t let it.

He pondered his thoughts, perhaps you were asking for someone else, someone Ron didn’t care about - the desperation in his stomach kept churning to find out.

“I don’t know” he replied in a huff “we don’t really talk much, why you asking anyway?”

You went quiet, suddenly finding interest in the scenery as the two of you edged closer to the castle.

“uh, no reason” you lied, running your hand through your hair.

For all of Ron’s flaws, he could tell when his best friend was lying - he never failed calling you out for it in the past, you learnt not to play any card games with him - especially when galleons were on the table.

The two of you entered the loud castle, pushing past students in the hall, making your way to the Gryffindor common room.

“you like him, don’t you?” Ron muttered under his breath, making sure everyone else around you couldn’t hear.

You sighed and made eye contact with Ron, his facial expression even more sour than when he puked up slugs in first year.

You walked up the stairs and held on to the rail, looking around for the Fat Lady “I suppose I do, I was thinking of asking him to-”

Ron could feel the sweat form in his palms and under his arms, images of you and George being together all the time instead of him flashed before him.

“I don’t know, Y/N, you’re two years younger than him, you haven’t spoken more than ten words to each other.”

Your heart pained for a moment, your spirits crushing like the ingredients in one of Snape’s potions.

“I just don’t think he’ll like you that much, I don’t want you to get hurt.” he finished, the two of you finally reaching the portrait.

“I guess so” you mumbled “you know him better than I do.”

Over the next few days you couldn’t stomach being around George, each time you looked into his gorgeous eyes and seeing him smile, caused your heart pain, a lump forming in your throat, and hot tears filling your eyes.

At first George didn’t notice but when he would wave and smile - only to be ignored, he couldn’t help but overthink; wondering if he had done something wrong.

It wasn’t just George who you ignored, you kept away from your best friend Ron too - Ron felt like shit but you were away from George and that gave him enough of a clear conscience to sleep at night.

You couldn’t sleep, you missed your best friend even when he hurt your feelings, you also felt hopeless, the only person you ever showed an interest in wouldn’t even give you a chance.

“What’s been up with Y/N lately? George asked his younger brother, buttering his toast, causing Ron to almost choke on his.

“What you on about?”

George rolled his eyes and swallowed his food, “unbelievable you are, she’s been avoiding you like the plague and she won’t even look at me.”

“So, did you make up your mind yet?”

You swore silently under your breath, recognising the voice who called out to you - an attractive and charming Hufflepuff student in George’s year with short black hair kept asking you over and over to go on a date with him in Hogsmeade, each time you said no had failed to satisfy his desire.

“Uh” you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him to fuck off, but then again, what did you have to lose? “yeah, I’ll be there” you faked a smile.

Ron watched in the distance and felt relieved, from his perspective, the possibility of you and George seemed incredibly slim to none. He walked over towards you as soon as the lad split, a smile creeping up on his face.

“Y/N, alright?” he smiled, his hands in his pockets.

You stared at him, yes you were hurt, but you missed him - he could do much worse to cause a much bigger fall out between the two of you.

“I suppose” you sighed “walk with me to Transfiguration class?”

Ron smiled “can do”

“and took your bloody shirt in!” you scolded him, bumping into him playfully.

As much as you enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade, you couldn’t help but want to go back home and climb back into your warm bed, hiding away from the world - but your habit of trying to see the best in people lead you here - waiting outside Honey Dukes for your date to arrive.

“Look at you!” he called out, walking over and kissing your hand “ready for the best day of your life?” he grinned.

Best day of my life? with you? I should’ve stayed in bed.

“Sure” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face.

The best day of your life wasn’t too bad, you had someone new to talk to, to try and get your mind off things - but your heart couldn’t help but yearn for George. You looked around the shops thinking of the products he liked, disliked, and what he bought for Ron at Christmas.

Your date had more to blab about himself than get to know you, he held your hand and bought you a much needed Butterbeer - but he talked so much that he didn’t even get round to drinking his own. The more he had to say, the more he tried to impress you, the more you disliked him, making you fall for George even more.

Finally breaking out from the busy and overwhelming pub and out into the cold, your date stood in front of you with a strange expression on his face.

“So?” he shrugged

“so, what?” you stared at him, your patience wearing thin.

The shared laughter between George and Ron came to a halt when George spotted you with his classmate, he knitted his brows together.

“Why’s Y/N around that plonker?” he asked his younger brother.

Ron looked at you then back to George “she’s on a date”

George shook his head “he’s an absolute creep”

The two of them stared, the student took a hold of your hand and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pulled away and glared at him, trying to not make a scene.

“Fucking pervert!” George hissed, storming over towards the two of you “Hey!”

George clenched his jaw, his nostrils flared and his glaring gaze settled on on the lad, he bunched his right hand into a fist and swung, everything went in slow motion as George punched him in the face.

You were speechless, you didn’t know what to say, all you could do was stare and watch the fight unfold.

“Stay away from her or my foot will rip you a new one!” George threatened him, he turned to you, his facial expression instantly turning soft.

“th-thank you”

“you don’t need to thank me love, are you alright?” George searching your eyes with his, full of care and concern.

Your heart fluttered, his voice, him speaking to you sounded like the most fascinating birds chirping, and his caring face caused fireworks in your stomach to erupt into the sky.

You wanted to take your chance, ask him out and start over but before you could do any of that, let alone reply, Ron hurried over and interrupted; putting you back in your place and making you remember how his brother felt about you.

“Proper shiner he’ll have in the morning” Ron laughed “sort your knuckles out George, if anyone sees they’ll send a letter home.”

The fluttering in your heart died down, the chirping of the birds instantly turning into the most dreadful squawks, and the fireworks in your stomach burning out, starving the embers before they could relight.

“Thanks again” you murmured quietly, flashing George one last smile before walking away, wanting to retreat to your bed and hide away.

George had to admit, he felt quite hurt that you went back to ignoring him after he had your back the other week - he knew that you didn’t owe him anything, not even an explanation - but he couldn’t understand why even after making up with Ron, you still refused to look at him.

Sitting on the sofa in the common room in your pyjamas, you flicked through your Quidditch magazine and blinked over and over whilst you looked across the page, sleep trying to pull you in.

“Georgie, I’ve already said-”

“Shhh!”

Jolting awake, you looked behind you and stared at the twins, long roles of parchment in one hand and a map in the other, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, closing your magazine.

“It’s okay boys, I’m going to bed anyway.” you yawned again, slowly getting off the sofa.

Fred and George shared a look, the older twin nodding his head towards you “go on then, mate, I’ll be upstairs.”

Fred walked past you, he whispered a “goodnight!” and went off to his dorm, leaving you alone with the person you wanted more than anyone in the world.

George pursed his lips, standing around awkwardly before approaching you “Y/N, can we talk?” he asked softly.

You nodded slowly, the nerves piping up in your tummy.

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, love” he said softly “have I done something wrong?”

This was your moment, not to ask him out - but to tell him the truth.

You pushed your stray hairs out of your face and sighed, the lad of your dreams standing beside you, looking down on you.

“I have feelings for you George” you admitted, your mouth going dry “and that’s why I have to stay away from you, because I know you’re never going to feel the same.”

George went quiet, the embers from the fire spreading and making it set alight, the amber tones coming from the flames resting on his face. He smiled for a moment and licked his lips, looking into your eyes.

“Tomorrow night” he whispered softly in your ear “where we first met”

Tag list: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

I'm fond of time travel aus, especially yours, so what if just LWJ travelled back to the gusu lectures, either during the 13/16 years or after all the events of canon.

Lan Wangji walked slowly towards the room where his uncle’s lectures were held. He had no reason to drag his feet – this was a chance to change the past for the better, to stop so many terrible things from happening – and yet, he couldn’t resist going even more slowly than usual.

He was a little worried. So much rested on his shoulders.

What would be the right place to make the first change?

“Enjoy the lecture, Wangji,” his brother said as he passed him, returning from his own morning chores.

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said noncommittally.

“Wait,” Lan Xichen said, stopping and turning to look at him. “Hold on. What happened?”

Lan Wangji hesitated.

“Something big?”

“It isn’t –”

“How bad?” Lan Xichen’s eyes went wide. “That bad? How many people died?”

Lan Wangji winced – the answer was, of course, a very great deal, but that was all in the future and hadn’t happened yet – but Lan Xichen read the answer off of him at once.

“That many deaths couldn’t have happened without me knowing,” Lan Xichen said, clearly thinking it through. “And you were fine yesterday. Was it a dream? No, you wouldn’t panic over a dream. Did something happen at night –”

“I’ve returned from the future to change the past,” Lan Wangji blurted out. He couldn’t help it. He’d never been a good liar, and it’d been such a long time since he’d seen his brother so energic over anything…

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, and visibly relaxed. “Okay. That’s fine. As long as you’re all right, and nobody’s died yet. Let me help?”

When he put it that way – how could Lan Wangji say no?

“Wangji?” his uncle called as he entered the hanshi. It was a little early for lectures to be finished – it must have been one of the shorter days, perhaps.

“In here, with me,” Lan Xichen called.

Lan Qiren entered, a worried furrow in his brow. “You missed the lecture. I was concerned.”

Lan Wangji bowed his head. He’d gotten so caught up with talking with his brother that he had forgotten – it was strange, to still have responsibilities that meant going places he was told to go, doing what he was told to do. It’d been years since he had been the one attending classes, rather than teaching them.

And Lan Xichen had acted so naturally about it all that he’d just forgotten. And in forgetting, he’d worried his uncle, which he hadn’t meant to do – his uncle had always meant well, even when they disagreed. He hadn’t allowed his affection for Lan Wangji to stop him from doing what he believed to be the right thing, such as in the battle against Wei Wuxian, but in every other instant he was often Lan Wangji’s staunchest ally within the sect.

It’d been his forceful arguments that had convinced the rest of the sect to allow a formal marriage between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, when Lan Wangji had been certain that the most he would ever get was a quiet understanding and being left alone.

“Wangji’s returned from the future,” Lan Xichen announced. “He’s nearly as old as you are, and married.”

“Married?” Lan Qiren asked. “To who? That Wei boy?”

Lan Wangji turned to stare.

His uncle looked back at him. “What? Did you think you were being subtle?”

Lan Wangji opened and closed his mouth. He knew he wasn’t, of course, but he’d assumed his lack of subtlety had started…somewhat later in life. According to Lan Xichen, he hadn’t known Wei Wuxian for more than a week at this point.

“My relationship is not what I returned to fix,” he finally said. “There are other events –”

“It is that Wei boy!” His uncle looked – delighted? What? “An excellent choice, Wangji. You’re well matched.”

Lan Wangji felt his ears turning red. His uncle had certainly never said that to him in his past life.

Of course, if he had, Lan Wangji as he had been back then might have died of pure mortification, so it was probably for the best.

“You think so?” Lan Xichen asked. “He seems a bit – excitable –”

“It’ll be good for Wangji to have a challenge,” his uncle said, his eyes curving in a smile. “Someone to excite him every day.”

“I came to tell you about war,” Lan Wangji said, a little desperate to make them stop. “With the Wen sect -”

“The inevitability of war can wait,” Lan Qiren said. “First – do you have any children?”

“…one.”

“You have a child!” Lan Xichen exclaimed. “Wangji! You didn’t say! How wonderful! You have to tell us everything!”

Lan Wangji wondered exactly how he had reached this point.

Nie Huaisang had developed a new habit that Lan Wangji didn’t know what to make of.

It hadn’t happened in his first life – certainly not at the Cloud Recesses, but not at any other point thereafter – and that made it strange. For a little while, Lan Wangji was afraid that Nie Huaisang had also returned from the future, since he wouldn’t put it past the Headshaker to have figured out his own way back for his own purposes, but after feeling him out a little he didn’t think so.

But that made what he was doing all the stranger.

From what Lan Wangji remembered, Nie Huaisang had been a little afraid of him during this time, and had largely avoided him, preferring to spend time with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng. So why was he now following him around, talking about all manner of random things? He often didn’t even provide context for the subjects he brought up, and sometimes merely listed off names of people or places or even sometimes things.

It was totally nonsensical.

At first, Lan Wangji tried to ignore him, but it had no impact whatsoever. Nie Huaisang just continued what he was doing.

In the end, Lan Wangji cracked first, turning to him all at once while they were walking alone in the garden - or, well, Lan Wangji was walking his patrols, and Nie Huaisang was tagging along. “What are you doing?”

“Getting answers,” Nie Huaisang answered promptly, as if he’d only been waiting for Lan Wangji to ask.

Lan Wangji frowned at him.

Nie Huaisang was still young at this point – young and lazy and frivolous. But Lan Wangji had seen what steel lay beneath, in the years to come, and he would not make the mistake of underestimating him as so many others did.

“What answers?” he asked. “To what questions?”

“I want to know the future, of course!” Nie Huaisang said. “And since it’s obvious that you know it, I’m picking your brain.”

Lan Wangji stared.

His brother figuring it out, he could understand. His uncle had been told directly. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have surprised him, being both a genius and Lan Wangji’s soulmate. But – Nie Huaisang?

“How?” he asked.

“You very suddenly changed in how you reacted to things,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “I tried to think of all the reasons there might be for it, given the constraints of time and place, and I’ve been testing and eliminating various options ever since. You wince when you think about someone who gets hurt eventually, you know.”

“…I do?”

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lan Wangji asked. The Nie Huaisang of the future was capable of an amazing degree of deception – he could not bring himself to believe that the younger version had been so careless by accident. Especially not with how eager he was to answer Lan Wangji’s questions.

“I want details,” Nie Huaisang said. “Obviously.”

“No.” Lan Wangji didn’t need to think twice about it. It was one thing to tell his family – he hadn’t planned to, but they knew him too well for him to avoid it – and entirely another to let the master schemer have such an advantage.

Nie Huaisang caught his arm.

“I don’t think you entirely understand, Lan-er-gonzi,” he said. “You flinch whenever anyone says my brother’s name. I want to know why, and I want to stop it from happening.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to find that steel core so near to the surface, even this young, and yet somehow it was.

“And if I refuse?” he asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

“You won’t. You have a big brother, too, and you flinch when his name gets said if you’re not paying attention.”

Nie Huaisang was really too smart.

“I won’t,” he agreed. “But supposing I did, what would have been your next step?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nie Huaisang said. “I would have asked your brother to get it out of you.”

Lan Wangji sighed.

#mdzs #lan wangji #lan xichen #lan qiren #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #vyther15

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bestiesenpai · 4 years

Text

tattoo artist sukuna

I am way overdo to get my sleeve finished and I’m already itching to get a full back piece, so this is right up my alley. Gender neutral reader, and if you’d like to see the tattoo style i reference please go to @/novchild.jpg on instagram :)

It was a spur of the moment decision that led you to drive downtown with your friends at nearly midnight, drunk off each other's energy and eager to do something reckless. Speeding down the motorway, you scrolled through Instagram in search of a tattoo artist.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Your nerves had finally caught up to you as the car was parked in front of the studio you all chose. It was a typical brick and mortar building with a large skull painted on the only window to the outside world. There were a few bald men smoking cigarettes right outside the door, scrawling ink covering their exposed hands and faces.

“Yeah, c’mon!” No one waited for you, everyone climbing out of the car in excitement. Slowly, you got out of the car as well, head down as you walked past the men and into the shop.

Loud, blaring metal music met your ears, jarring you upright and tense. There wasn’t anyone you could see at the front desk, the only workers were huddled in a back corner leaning over something and laughing.

“Which one should I get?” Your attention was drawn away from the men in the corner and to the art hanging on the wall, all different flash sheets from various artists. Some were more gory, clearly drawing inspiration from horror movies while other pieces were bright and colorful, like bubblegum pop come to life.

“Hey.” A gruff voice cut through the loud music, and a man was now leaning against the front desk, spiky black hair in a ponytail with a bored look on his face and several piercings in both ears. He was clearly sizing you up, the black bar going across his nose moving as he did.

Unprepared to speak to him, you were happy when someone else stepped in and started chatting about prices. The man at the counter had on a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, exposing one full arm and hand that was completely blacked out.

“Choso, any customers?” Another shouted, a man wide in stature with long hair. He sauntered up to the counter, tight black t-shirt showing off the traditional Japanese work covering every inch of skin.

“Getou, can’t you see?” Choso rolled his eyes and gestured to your little group.

“I can’t make conversation?” Pulling a face at Choso, Getou leaned his elbows on the counter and flashed a wide grin at all of you. “So, who’s the first to get some ink?” His narrowed eyes looked over your bare skin and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I am! I want that one!” One of your friends pointed at the wall, making Getou hum and nod.

“That’s Gojo’s work, he loves to draw the cute shit. I’ll call him over.” As a white haired man walked over at Geto’s call, one by one your friends made their decisions and were paired with artists.

“What did you choose, (Y/N)?” A friend asked, seeing you still stuck staring at the wall.

“I don’t know!” Throwing your head back, you were beginning to regret even tagging along. There were simply too many options and the task of picking something was daunting.

“Having a hard time choosing?” A flash of white crosses your vision and soon Gojo is leaning down into your field of vision, piercing blue eyes staring at you curiously.

“U-uh yeah.” Stumbling back from how close his face is, you realize how tall he is when he stands up straight, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Me and another guy just got done making a new flash sheet, lemme show you.” It takes him only a couple seconds to go back to his station and come back with a piece of thick paper with drawings on it.

Taking the paper, the drawings were unexpectedly cute. A lot of them looked like rough sketches or crayon drawings, simple in concept but intricate in detail.

“I’ll take this one.” Pointing at a mid-sized crayon drawing, your mouth ticked up in a smile as Gojo took the paper from you with sparkling eyes.

“That one is so cute, good choice! One sec!” Tossing the paper down, he dashes away shouting nonsensical words towards the back of the shop where they’d all been huddled up. “Sukuna! Someones here for ya!”

Rising straight up from a chair with a loud groan, a shirtless pink haired man glared sharply at Gojo. Even from a distance you can see the sharp black lines tattooed across his face and down his body, circles on each shoulder, dashed lines across his chest down his stomach and around his wrists as well.

“Geez you can really yell, you know that?” Running a hand through his hair roughly, Sukuna stands up, flexing his muscles and unknowingly giving the whole shop a show of his chiseled physique.

“There’s a client here to get a piece we made together earlier.” Shoving the paper in his face, Gojo points to the piece you selected. Sukuna mumbles a few words and sets his eyes on you, walking over with a swagger that makes you nervous.

“Alright, where do you want it?” Leaning close to you, Sukuna quirks a brow.

“I don’t know.” You sigh softly, looking down at your arms and legs. “I don’t-”

“Your arm, right here.” Grabbing onto your arm, Sukuna turns it outward to expose the flesh of your inner arm. “It would look good right here, about the size of my palm.”

“O-oh okay.” Nodding quickly, your face is burning when he lets go. His touch still lingered on your skin, the edge of his black painted fingernails digging in briefly as they squeezed you.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, go sign the paperwork.” Sukuna speaks with his back to you, already walking to the station he had been sleeping at and setting up. Rushing to fill in the proper papers, you wait nervously at the front of the shop for your turn.

The rest of your friends are already getting started, the whir of the tattoo machines adding to the ambience of the shop. With a wave Sukuna calls you over to his corner, still shirtless with a pair of gloves on.

“Hold out your arm.” Grabbing you once again, Sukuna angles your arm in front of a mirror by the table. Rubbing ointment on your skin, he sticks the stencil on and rubs firmly, making you squirm from the tickle of his hand getting close to your armpit.

“What do you think?” Stepping to the side, he looks at you in the mirror. “Little to the left? Right?”

“No, it’s perfect.” The longer you look at it, the longer you love it. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Sukuna led you to the table, having you lay down and stick your arm out.

“This your first one, I can tell.” He said, adjusting your body how he seemed fit and rubbing more ointment on you.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah, only a first timer would get something like this from me.” A cocky grin spread across his face and he gestured to the wall behind your head, covered in realistic black and white portraits. “This is normally my speciality.”

“You drew yourself?” Pointing up at one of the pictures that looked exactly like him minus the face tattoos, you chuckled.

“Nah, that’s my twin.” Your brows rose in surprise and you looked between Sukuna and the picture.

“Does he have-?” You waved over your face and body.

“He’s too scared to get a tattoo, says he’ll get ink poisoning and die.” Sukuna laughed, pouring out the various colored ink into little cups. “Won’t even let me do a tiny dot on him!”

“Safe to say you two are pretty different then.” You found yourself laughing a little as well, eased at Sukunas laid back nature.

“Mhmm, he’s busy going on the straight and narrow while I’m here ‘ruining my body’ as our grandpa likes to say.” Flashing quick air quotes, Sukuna revs up the machine and fiddles with the buttons. “Alright, you ready for this? Won’t have virgin skin anymore after this.”

“Yes!” Clenching and unclenching your fist, you pushed a deep breath through your mouth.

“If you start to cry, I won’t stop. And if you pass out, I’ll just wake you up.” That was his final warning before he leaned forward, using one large gloved hand to spread the skin of your arm taut.

The first prick of the needle against your skin made you jolt, sucking in a sharp breath and making your eyes fly open. Sukuna snorted, wiped your arm with a towel and kept going. Honing in on the marks and exposed pipes in the ceiling, you tried not to twitch from the needle anymore.

“You’re doing pretty well.” Sukuna mumbled, briefly sitting up and dipping in for more ink.

“Really?” Taking a look at the tattoo, you were surprised to see only one line had been done. It felt like at least three were placed into you.

“Yeah, don’t screw it up.” Sticking his tongue out at you, Sukuna went back to work. Transfixed on watching him, you saw the lines go into your skin, overflowing with ink and being wiped away repeatedly. You were also watching the way Sukuna’s arms flexed, the muscles in his body all on display right in front of you.

“Tell me about yourself while you stare at me.” Sukuna said, not looking up from your arm. Immediately, your head whipped away from him and a deep burn ran over your face. Sukuna laughed at your embarrassment, patting your arm with the paper towel a few times.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one to do it.” That didn’t make it any better. Slapping a hand over your face, you let out an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Just great.”

“It’s okay to say you have a crush on me, a lot of people that come to the shop do.”

“Sukuna!” Laughing through the shame, you glanced over at him.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well can you blame them when you’re built like that?” Feeling emboldened by the late night hour, you took a rather obvious look at Sukuna’s body. With only a pair of sweatpants on, you could see nearly all the tattoos he had.

“Aw thanks doll, I work out.” Sukuna shot a wink at you, briefly flexing both arms and making you blush again. “But enough about me, what about you? What made you come here so late at night?”

“My friends and I wanted to do something spontaneous.” Returning your gaze to the ceiling, the ache from the tattoo gun was beginning to settle into your skin. “And what better way to be spontaneous than to get a tattoo?”

“Ha, I hear that.”

“Why’d you get the ones on your face and stuff?”

“Thought they’d make me look cool, and I was right.” Giggling at his honesty, you quickly nodded in agreement.

“The ones on your face, did they hurt really bad?”

“The ones near my eyes yeah, those hurt the most. But thankfully Choso has a steady hand, so it didn’t last too long.”

Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your own face, drawing along the edge of your jaw and eye socket. There was no way you could get your face tattooed as heavily as Sukuna had, if at all ever. You had only just now gotten used to the pain of the needle on your arm and you were still twitching every so often.

“How’re you holding up so far?” Sukuna whispers close to your ear ten quiet minutes later. He’s completely focused on tattooing you yet his face is close enough that if you leaned up a little, you could graze his hair with your nose.

“Fine.” You whisper back, suddenly feeling awkward with the low tone of his voice.

“That’s good doll, real good.” His voice dropped even lower, overcompensating for the song ending over the stereo speakers. Trying not to stare at his serious expression, you look over at the other stations. Gojo is chatting up your friend excitedly, and there’s a number of colorful inks laid out before him. Choso and Geto are hard at work as well, with Choso pointedly not speaking, and a blonde man you’d noticed drinking a large mug of black coffee earlier with his button up sleeve rolled up to reveal two dragons on his forearms.

Just as the pain in your arm was starting to truly burn, the tattoo was over. Sukuna washed it down gently, patting your arm and humming to the song playing. Sitting up with a short grunt, he flicked his head to the mirror.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Sliding slowly off the table, you held your arm out awkwardly and stood in front of the mirror. Your arm was slightly swollen and stinging, shoulder stiff from being in the same position for so long, but a smile spread on your cheeks.

“I love it.” It looked exactly like the picture: a crayon style drawing of a brown haired girl in a giant green frog, a big pout on her lips while the frog sat on a lily pad.

“Lemme snap a couple quick photos before I wrap you up.” Already with his phone out, Sukuna was quick at taking pictures, posing you like when he’d put the stencil on. “I’ll run down the aftercare stuff with you, also give you a card in case you forget any of it.”

You didn’t hear a thing he said about aftercare. Standing nearly chest to chest with Sukuna while he rubbed ointment on your skin and wrapped your tattoo up, the way his arms nearly wrapped around you to put the cover on, the gentle touch of his fingers pressing medical tape to your skin, even the way he was breathing softly and looking at you - it all had you distracted.

“Alright, you’re all done.” Sukuna patted your arm, breaking you from your trance.

“Thank you so much!” Looking down at your tightly bandaged arm, you could feel the intense heat radiating out of it. You quickly snapped your own picture of the bandage as Sukuna dug around in a drawer.

“And since I could tell you were zoning the fuck out just now, I wrote my number down on the aftercare sheet, so text me if you have any questions.” Holding the paper out to you, Sukuna had indeed scribbled his phone number on the paper in thick black marker.

“Can I really just text you?” Taking the paper hesitantly, you fiddled with it in your hands.

“Of course! I want your tattoo to heal well!” Sukuna nodded, throwing his arms out dramatically. Waiting for you to gather your stuff, he walked you to the front of the shop. “Text me anytime doll, I stay up late.” He whispered right before you got to the front counter, making your jaw drop and ears burn.

“(Y/N), you really got a girl in a frog?” A friend laughed, a bandage wrapped around their thigh.

“It’s cute!” You defended it, holding your arm close to your body.

“The cutest fucking one.” Sukuna added on, slapping the counter and pointing at everyone.

“Aren’t you cold without a shirt on?” Choso mumbled, typing away on his phone in the corner.

“No ‘cause I’m not anemic like you are.”

“It’s still cold outside.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s cold in here!” The two of them quickly devolved into petty squabble, giving each other light hearted shoves in the shoulder while Geto collected the money from everyone.

“Bye, thank you so much!” You all called out as you left, waving goodbye and shrugging your jackets back on.

“I’ll be waiting for that text, doll!” Sukuna shouted right as you stepped out, blowing you a kiss when you whipped your head over your shoulder in shock.

“Text? Were you flirting with him?” A slew of curious looks were thrown your way, making your shock even worse.

“N-no!” You stuttered and immediately grimaced at it, face getting warmer as you climbed into the car. “We were just talking while he tattooed me, he just wants to make sure it heals right.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Let’s go to the drive through now, Geto told me to eat something after getting tattooed!”

“Hey check Sukuna’s Instagram story, he already posted your tattoo (Y/N)!”

“Really?” Rushing to pull out your phone, it was indeed true. Sukuna had posted one of the pictures he took of your arm, a few silly frog gifs surrounding it, with the caption ‘painted a pretty doll with a pretty frog, hope they come back for more xx’.

“You two were definitely flirting!” Shouts resounded in the car, everyone giggling wildly at the caption. Giggling along with them, you quickly typed a message to Sukuna.

(Y/N): hey Sukuna this is (Y/N). Thanks again for the frog! And the picture you posted on your story looks really good :)

(Sukuna): no problem doll

(Sukuna): next time you want a tattoo, text me and i’ll draw up whatever you want

“Sukuna said he wanted to tattoo me again!” You announced to your friends, all of them oohing and crowding around your phone. “What should I say?”

“I’ll do it!” Someone snatched your phone before you could say anything, rapidly shooting off a message and tossing the device back to you.

(Y/N): are you free tomorrow?

“He’s not gonna-” Right as you were beginning to shake your head and type another message, he replied.

(Sukuna): for you? of course

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

573 notes · View notes

illegal-spiegel · 4 years

Text

Voice Sweet as Caramel

Pairing: deaf!Katsuki Bakugo x gn!reader Genre: fluff, slight angst? Warnings: none Summary: You meet Dynamight and don’t know that he’s deaf. Luckily for him though, when you find out, your quirk comes in handy Word Count: 5.1k words A/N: I did a lot of research to make Bakugo’s experience seem as real as possible. If there is smth that I did wrong, worded incorrectly, etc., please don’t hesitate to inform me. Thank you and enjoy!

It didn’t really bother him at first. Being deaf, I mean. He didn’t have to listen to a bunch of nonsense all the time, he could sleep in peace, villains trying to goad him on and agitate him didn’t work anymore, and so on.

It didn’t take him long to realize just how many downfalls there are with that though. He started to fall behind in class because he could no longer hear his teachers. He wasn’t able to hear plans of attack or hear an enemy sneak up on him.

He can’t hear your voice.

He became deaf in the middle of his third year. It happened in the middle of a fight with the league of villains and he didn’t really have time to panic about it at the time. When school let out and he became one of the top heroes, he tried not to be bothered by it and for the most part, it worked. His other senses heightened as time went on but that doesn’t mean it made the reality that he’s deaf any easier. There were still the setbacks that will always hold him back from reaching top potential. Because of this, he’s the number three hero, right behind Deku and Todoroki.

That’s what really crushed him.

He never shows anyone, heroes, friends, and villains alike, that being deaf is a struggle for him, even when he gets used to it. He wants to hear the villains he defeats beg for mercy. He wants to hear his friends laugh when someone does something stupid. He wants to hear the praise of civilians when he saves them.

He wants to hear your voice but he’d, obviously, never tell a soul that.

He didn’t meet you until a year after he graduated.

You showed up when he was fighting some villains, and he’ll never admit that he was struggling a little bit. Somehow though, villain after villain suddenly couldn’t see him and they panicked. They’d run into buildings and each other before Bakugo beat them all to a pulp.

Seeing as how you’re the only one else there with a hero costume on, he assumes you had something to do with it. As he hands the villains over to the police, you come over with a warm smile aimed directly at him. He stares at your lips as you speak, his ears ringing with the silence that he’s grown used to.

He doesn’t really understand why you’re trying to talk to him, seeing as how everyone knows that the great hero Dynamight is unable to hear. So, why are you wasting your time trying to talk to him? Maybe you think he can read your lips. That is, after all, a common misconception about deaf people.

Without a word on his part, he turns and walks away from you. He doesn’t hear you stop in the middle of congratulating him. He doesn’t hear how you scoff a bit. He doesn’t see you frown at how rude he is.

You walk into the building with a bright smile already on your face, excited for something you literally do every day of your life. It doesn’t matter how many times you do it though. This will always make you happy. Plus, you just came to Japan from America a couple of weeks ago. You haven’t been here in years. You are excited to use your improved quirk to help others.

You greet the lady at the front desk as you grab your sticker name tag that the staff makes for you every day. You then go to your first stop, gently knocking on the door and coming in once you get the go-ahead.

“(Y/n)! You’re back!” the little girl squeals, a large smile coming to her face. Your smile stretches out further as you walk over to her.

“Hi, Keiko! How have you been?” you say as you move your hands slowly for her to read. She watches them attentively before perking up, her mother beside her smiling softly at the interaction.

“I’ve been really good! I’m glad you're back!” she says happily, her ‘accent’ coming through more now that she’s calmed down and isn’t shouting.

“I’m happy to be back too,” you agree, your hands moving with your words.

“(Y/n),” the mother says, grabbing your attention, “Thank you for coming back. You have no idea what this means to me. To us. After the villain attack...” Her eyes are watery as she speaks, her hand coming up to pet her daughter’s head.

You smile softly at her, coming over to sit in the empty chair by her bed. “Don’t even mention it, Mrs. Suzuki. It’s an honor to be of use to you and your daughter,” you reassure. You then look to Keiko, seeing her body impatiently wiggling around as she waits for you to work your magic.

You chuckle as you raise your hands, her eyes widening, despite knowing what you were doing. She turns to look at her mom as she shouts, “Mommy! I can hear again!” You read her lips and smile as she wraps her arms tightly around her mother. You watch with a soft look in your eyes, trying to ignore your oncoming sadness that will come when her hearing comes to an end again.

“Keiko, I noticed that you are getting better at JSL. You must be studying so hard!” you praise, watching her chest puff out at the praise.

“You bet I am! It’s so easy and my tutor says I’m really good at it!” she brags while using her hands for you to read, a chuckle escaping you at how proud she is. She has every right to be though.

“That’s so cool! Can you show me what else you’ve learned?”

You stay with the girl and her mother for their hour before slowly taking away her hearing again. She doesn’t seem to mind though. Even at her young age, she’s grateful for the opportunity that others don’t get to have and she knows that you can’t let her have her hearing back forever.

You walk down the hall and walk into the next room after knocking. “Daiki? It’s (Y/n),” you greet softly, not wanting to spook the teen. He perks up at the sound of your voice, a smile coming to his face as he turns to face you.

That has to be the best part of your quirk. You bring all of these smiles to these unfortunate people whose lives were changed at the hands of villains.

“(Y/n)! I’m surprised to have you come back so soon!” he greets, holding his arms open for a hug. You happily accept it, returning his sight as you pull away. He brightens up more as the life returns in his eyes, your eyes catching the sight of his gums showing from how big he’s smiling before your own vision goes dark.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing your pretty face,” he playfully flirts, making you chuckle as you take a seat by his bed.

“You’re such a flatterer.” When visiting Daiki, he prefers to use his time wisely. He likes to memorize the faces of loved ones, read, watch tv, and other things that he can’t do.

When his time comes to an end, he sighs as he closes his book he was reading, a sad smile on his face. “You really are my hero, (Y/n),” Daiki says softly, his eyes roaming your face to now memorize it without your knowledge.

“I’m just doing what anyone else would do with my quirk,” you reassure, giving him a sad smile as you slowly take his sight away again. He sighs and picks up the same book from before but with braille instead of typed words.

“Still. See you next week?”

“You betcha,” you say softly before kissing his cheek and leaving.

Your quirk allows you to eliminate or heighten the five senses. You can only do one sense at a time though. You can do it in increments too, meaning you can completely eradicate or heighten a sense, or you can do it partially. For example, you can increase someone’s smelling to 100% and they can suddenly smell ten times better than a bloodhound. Another example, if someone is getting a headache by a smell, you can remove someone’s smell by 50% and leave them able to smell but not as strongly as they normally would be able to. Also, when you use your quirk, that sense is completely removed from you but only while you’re using it on someone. You also can’t use your quirk on yourself.

It’s when you’re leaving the RCV, the Recovery Center from Villains, you notice the fight between a hero and multiple villains. You raise your hand to one of the villains, removing his, and your, sight. When you hear a loud explosion and a cry of pain, you turn off your quirk to find the villain you used your quirk on laying on the ground. You repeat this process with the other villains until there was none left standing.

When the hero hands them over to the police, you run over with a grin. “Hi, I just wanted to say that you were incredible! I know you probably didn’t need my help but I just wanted to-”

You cut yourself off with a scoff when the blond suddenly walks away from you, a frown coming to your face as you watch him go. Well, that was rude. Especially after you just helped him take down four villains!

“Excuse me. Were you the one to help Dynamight?” an officer asks. You give her a kind smile as you nod your head, turning to face her now.

“Yes, ma’am. I have a senses quirk, so I eliminated their sight so, uh, Dynamite could get the upper hand,” you explain. She smiles at this, becoming more fascinated by the second as you explain what happened. You answer any questions she has, noticing the sun is starting to go down.

“Well, it’s getting dark. I’ll let you go! Have a great day—oh! What’s your hero name?”

“It’s Esthesia,” you say before saluting and walking away.

On your walk home, a guy gives you an unseemly smile as his eyes flicker up and down your body. “Hey, baby. Where you going?” You give him a bored look as you raise your hand, taking his, and your, sight away as you continue to walk straight. He begins to panic, your ears listening as he runs around frantically before crashing into a brick wall. When his body hits the ground, you return both of your vision with a smirk.

“Have a nice night!” you sarcastically call to his groaning figure.

The second time you meet Dynamight—you learned from the news how it’s actually spelled—it was under pretty much the same circumstances. You stay by the sidelines, appearing as a civilian to everyone which is exactly what you wanted.

You raise your hand and remove the villain’s sight, listening for signs that the villain is defeated. When you return your vision though, you find a villain coming from above to attack Dynamight.

“Dynamight!” you shout in warning, pointing up for him to see what your warning is for. He never looks at you though, allowing the villain to attack him from above. You quickly remove that villain’s sight, hoping that you weren’t too late. Why did he just ignore you like that? Is he that stubborn?

When your vision comes back, you find that he has taken out all of the villains again. You charge towards him once you see this, coming up behind him. “Why did you ignore me? You could’ve been killed!” you shout, afraid for the hero’s life. He keeps his back to you though, his eyes moving from villain to villain to make sure that they will stay down. “Hey!” you shout as you lightly shove him to gain his attention.

“Hey!” he copies as he catches his balance and spins around, his eyes alight with an inferno that’s normally directed at villains. When he sees it’s you though, that inferno shrinks to a flame. “What is your problem?” he screams.

You scoff as you cross your arms over your chest, a glare of your own staring right back at him. “My problem? My problem is that you keep ignoring me! I was trying to help you back there and you didn’t even turn to acknowledge me! You could’ve avoided that attack altogether!” you shout right back, your eyes moving to the wound on his shoulder that he received from that villain. Your eyes return to his face when he huffs and looks away from you.

And just like before, he walks away from you, causing your jaw to drop open. “Hey! You don’t get to do this to me again!” you shout, running to stand in front of him. You notice that the police have arrived to take the bad guys away, which Bakugo also notices.

“Get out of my way,” he snaps, moving to go around you until you just block his way again.

“No! This is the second time I’ve helped you! You can at least thank me!” He doesn’t react to your words. He doesn’t even have an expression on his face anymore. He, again, just moves around you and walks away. This time though, you let him go.

“Fine! That’s the last time I help you then!” you declare.

It’s not.

He just seems to have an invisible sign that you can’t see that says, “Come attack me! I’m alone! Please beat me up!” You don’t understand why he never has backup. Well, besides you, that is.

After helping out several times though, you finally come across him in battle with another hero. About time. Where was he the last six times you’ve helped him?

You watch from afar, only helping if one of them seems to be struggling a bit. You notice that the other hero acts differently around Bakugo. Their body language is different and he never calls out to him. Does he not like him? Cause you sure don’t.

After the fight is over and the police have escorted the villains away, the heroes leave after interacting with the civilians for a bit. You notice that no one talks to Dynamight though. How is he the number three hero but isn’t popular amongst the civilians? That makes his situation even odder to you.

When they finally leave, you quickly catch up to them. “Hey! Hi, sorry! I just wanted to say that you guys did a great job!” you congratulate with a grin, not even looking in Dynamight’s way.

The guy with flaming red hair, named Red Riot you believe, gives you a toothy grin. “Oh, thanks! You’re Esthesia, right? I’ve seen you on the news with Bakubro a couple of times.” You raise your brow at the nickname but realize he’s talking about Dynamight.

“Oh, yes! It’s nice to meet you! You’re Red Riot, right?” At this, his smile gets even brighter, if possible.

“Sure is! You can call me Kirishima though! This is Bakugo,” he introduces. It takes everything in you not to scoff.

“Yeah. I’ve saved his ass a time or two before,” you say as calmly as possible. Kirishima looks to Bakugo and finds that he’s not even looking at you.

“Sorry about him. He can be so moody.” You raise your brow when Bakugo doesn’t come to his own defense, seeming to just take the playful blow.

“That’s one word to describe him. Anyway, I don’t want to keep you guys up. I just wanted to congratulate you,” you explain with a warm smile.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all! It was nice to finally meet the hero who has saved Bakugo’s ass so many times! Say, how about we meet up sometime? It’d be great for you to meet some of the other heroes. Your quirk is really useful!” You blush at this but nod nonetheless.

“Oh, that would be great! I love helping where I can!” You pull out your phone for Kirishima to put his number into your phone, this finally grabbing Bakugo’s attention, but he remains quiet.

“Super! I’ll text you when some of the others are free. We can all get drinks or something,” he says as he hands your phone back to you.

“Can’t wait! It was nice meeting you!” you say cheerfully before you leave the duo to go to the RCV, which is where you were heading before you stopped to help.

About a week later, you get a text from Kirishima asking if you’d be free Sunday night. You agreed to meet him at a restaurant and you couldn’t help but grow excited at the chance to finally meet other heroes in the area.

Sunday night came in a blink of an eye it seemed, your heart beating faster with each mile you get closer to the meeting place. You park your car and double-check that your outfit is in order before heading inside. You look around for spiky, red hair, and it only takes you a second to find him.

“Kirishima!” you call as you near the table. Everyone but a certain blond turns at the sound of your voice. His eyes look at his friends before finally looking at you. You make eye contact with him for a moment before looking at Kirishima.

“Hey, (Y/n)! You look great!” he greets, standing up and pulling out the only empty chair.

“Thank you,” you say with a blush, slowly taking the seat, to which he pushes the chair in for you once you’ve sat down.

“Everyone, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is everyone,” he introduces playfully as he takes his own seat. Once he’s settled, he properly introduces you to everyone, to which you happily greeted them all.

“And finally, Mr. Grumpy-Mc-Grumpy-Pants over there is Bakugo, which you already know,” he says as he taps Bakugo’s arm. Bakugo turns to look at Kirishima before following his finger to you.

“It’s nice to officially meet you,” you greet with much sarcasm. He, like always, remains silent and looks back down to his menu. You huff and decide to open up your own menu, trying not to be bothered by being shot down by the handsome male.

For the rest of the evening, weird things occurred. Kirishima always taps him when someone says his name, Bakugo’s eyes roaming the table until he focuses on the person speaking. Kirishima taps him again when it’s his turn to order. You’ve seen people talk with their hands, both literally and figuratively, but these people really seem to get into it, making wide and crazy gestures.

It wasn’t until your waiter came to your table with your food that you finally realized what was going on.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about your quirk. Bakugo hasn’t shined any sort of light on what your quirk is and Kirishima seems a little lost at what your quirk actually is,” Mina says with a smile.

Before you can reply though, your waiter and another worker bring your food to the table. “Who got the kung pao chicken?” the other worker asks, looking around the table. Kirishima was checking his phone when the question was asked, Bakugo not letting the waiter know that it’s what he ordered.

This is when it hits you.

The tapping. The blank, bored look. The quiet replies. The crazy gestures.

He’s deaf.

God, you’re such an idiot! You work with deaf people all of the time! How did you not realize until now?

“He got it,” you inform with widened eyes, your eyes staring at the blond. His eyes squint at you for pointing at him before realizing that you were just showing the waiter where his food goes. Once everyone has their food, you clear your throat.

“So, um, Bakugo is deaf?” you shyly ask. This causes everyone to pause and stare at you for a moment.

“Uh, yeah,” Kirishima answers, “Sorry, I assumed you knew…” he apologizes.

You shake your head, turning your gaze to Bakugo as you continue. “But why does he act like that?” you ask.

“Like what?” Kaminari asks with a furrow to his brows.

“I work with deaf people all of the time. A lot of them are decent at reading lips to some extent and most know, or are learning, JSL. Bakugo seems...like he doesn’t care or that it doesn’t bother him? Does he know JSL?” you explain quietly despite the fact that the man you’re talking about can’t hear you.

Kirishima sighs as he sets down his chopsticks. “Bakugo has been deaf for about a year and a half now. He knows JSL and uses it when necessary, but for the most part, he doesn’t like using it or when others use it to talk to him. It makes him feel....belittled, if you will. Like he has to have special treatment or something. I do my best to help him but I’m not perfect,” he explains, the last part being directed at what just happened.

You slowly nod your head as you take this all in, a small frown coming to your face. “So, you guys don’t know what my quirk really is, right?” you ask softly, a smile starting to come to your face. They all look confused in your change of subject but nod along anyway.

“Yeah, I was asking you about it before our food came. Kirishima says you can make people blind, or something?” Mina pipes up. You confuse them more when you begin to grin, all of them sharing a look amongst themselves.

“Do you want to see something amazing?” you ask, your eyes flickering over to Bakugo.

“Please don’t make me blind,” Denki begs, starting to ramble about needing to be able to see pretty girls. Jiro shushes him and then focuses back on you again.

You raise your hand to Bakugo, taking a deep breath before slowly giving him the ability to hear. Everyone looks to him when he drops his chopsticks, his hands shaking as he stares wide-eyed at his plate. His chopsticks landing onto the table is the last thing you hear before your own hearing is gone.

“I’m confused. What happened?” you read from Sero’s lips. You remain quiet and just keep smiling, your eyes focused on Bakugo. Bakugo’s eyes snap to Sero when he speaks, something seeming to lodge in his throat.

Before he can stop it, he’s tearing up.

“Bakubro! What’s going on?” Kirishima worriedly shouts, looking between you and him. “(Y/n)! What did you do to him?” Kirishima asks worriedly. At the mention of your name, Bakugo finally looks at you.

“I can hear,” he mutters, his voice barely being heard from how thick his throat feels. When everyone starts to say that they didn’t hear him and to repeat himself, he rubs furiously at his eyes and takes a deep breath. “God, I forgot just how annoying your voices are,” he complains, trying hard not to smile.

Everyone freezes at this.

“What?”

“You can hear?”

“What’s going on?”

“My voice is just fine, thank you!”

Everyone starts talking at once, bombarding him with their voices. A small smile comes to his face despite his best effort, looking at all of them fondly. He looks to you again, eyeing you up as the others continue to chatter on.

“Well, you being able to do this would’ve been nice to know a long time ago,” he grumbles. You stare at his lips, doing your best to read them. The average deaf person can only understand about 30% of what someone is saying based on just their lips though.

“Sorry, can you use JSL?” you ask politely before picking up your chopsticks to begin eating.

This causes everyone to freeze once more.

“Huh?”

“But why?”

Seeing their confused faces, you realize that you never explained your quirk. You give them the rundown before finishing with, “When I use my quirk on someone else, I lose the sense that I’m taking away or giving. So, in this case, I gave Bakugo hearing so now I can’t hear. This is all temporary, of course.”

The table vibrates with Bakugo’s hit, making your eyes widen as you look at him. “Take my hearing back away,” he demands, not using JSL despite your wishes. Your brows furrow at this, luckily understanding what he said anyway.

“What? Why? You were so happy just a minute ago,” you reply confusedly.

“No, I wasn’t! I’m perfectly fine being deaf! I don’t want your pity!” he shouts, grabbing the attention of nearby customers. With him talking so fast, you weren’t able to catch what he said. This is when an idea comes to mind.

You simply look away from him and down at your plate, starting to eat without another word. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” Bakugo shouts, realizing too late that, duh, you can’t hear him. “Don’t ignore me!”

Ah, the irony.

The others eventually get him to calm down, bright and warm smiles on their faces at seeing him act like his old self. Don’t get them wrong, he still acts like this all the time but there’s this...new fire to him that hasn’t been there in a while.

When he finally lets it go, you all start eating. The others use JSL to talk to you, seeing as how they all learned it for Bakugo, despite the fact that he didn’t want them to use it. It was a nice dinner, really.

When the night comes to an end, you all stand up and walk out of the restaurant together. “So, when will Bakugo lose his hearing again?” Kirishima asks curiously, signing out the words for you.

“Well, I can only use my quirk for so long before it starts to become dangerous, just like when you guys use your quirk for an extended amount of time. Because I use my quirk so much though every day all day, he could stay like this all night. I’m assuming we are all going our separate ways though…”

“Oh, okay. Well, we all really appreciate what you’re doing for him,” Kirishima signs with a kind smile. You smile back at him, not seeing Bakugo say ‘I don’t.’

“It’s no problem at all, really. I just wish I knew about it earlier, so I could help him sooner,” you apologize, turning to look at Bakugo now. By the look on his face and the way his mouth moves, you’re assuming he scoffed.

“Do you think we could hang out again soon? I think it would be good for Bakugo to-”

“What’s with that crazy idea? I’m going home,” Bakugo snaps before turning to leave. Seeing him leave, you slowly raise your hand and switch both of your hearing back. You bite your lip when he stops, the sounds of cars going past on the road and the chatter of people nearby suddenly going silent for him once more.

He almost feels like he’s going to be sick.

He turns back around, wondering how he can get you to give his hearing back without actually saying he wants it back. His eyes widen in surprise when all of the sounds come back, a small smile coming to your face.

“Not everyone has the opportunity to get their hearing back, even for just a little while. So, be grateful.”

It took a while for Bakugo to finally warm up to you but after a month or so, he finally accepted your presence. It took him three to actually refer to you as a friend. It took half a year for Bakugo to admit to himself that you’re his best friend; he’d never tell you or Kirishima that though. It’s been a year and he still can’t admit to himself that he likes you more than as a friend.

Bakugo takes a bite of the food you made, his face scrunching up in mock disgust. “What did you put in this? Rat poison?” he jokes. It honestly didn’t taste half bad but he wasn’t about to admit that out loud to you.

He watches you dance to the music that he can’t hear, your lips moving as you sing. He wishes he could hear it. He watches you stop and turn to look at him at his insult, your mouth showing your scoff.

“Do you want to die?” you ask as you swipe your thumb across your neck. He smirks at you as he makes a show of taking another bite. He doesn’t hear you hum but he watches as you sign, “Yeah, that’s what I thought, chump.” He’s the one to scoff now, his eyes rolling with his annoyance.

He’s told you time and time again not to use JSL but you never listen. He secretly appreciates it because he doesn’t have to piece things together when you use it. He still acts peeved when you do it though.

“I’m not a chump. You’re the chump,” he snaps. You set your food down before walking over to the big speaker on your kitchen counter that is currently playing one of your favorite songs. You stand in front of it and place your hands against it before raising your other hand over to Bakugo.

His ears are suddenly greeted with the sound of the music, a frown coming to his face as he looks at you. While he appreciates being able to have his hearing back, he hates that you lose yours in the process. He’s pulled out of his train of thought when you start singing, his eyes becoming wide. You use the vibrations emitting from the radio to keep tempo, singing in sync with the artist.

Talking without hearing was easy for you but you’ve never tried singing without your ability to hear before. This shows as you softly sing, your voice shaky and out of tune at some points.

It’s the most beautiful thing that Bakugo had ever heard.

Your voice is as sweet as caramel. He watches you with a soft smile on his face, not even realizing that it’s there. When the song comes to an end, you bring your food over to the speaker and eat while your free hand remains pressed against the speaker to ‘hear’ the music.

To his surprise, one of his favorite songs comes on after a couple of minutes and you grew so excited when you realized this. You belt each word with immense confidence, not a sign of hesitation or worry in your voice.

This is when he realizes that he’s in love with you.

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MASTERLIST

More with Katsuki Bakugo

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906 notes · View notes

eeunoia · 4 years

Text

ENHYPEN Mini series

E N H Y P E N as Campus Heart-throbs

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

summary: you’ve always been in love by sunghoon’s mysterious vibe. you loved everything in him and everybody knows about your feelings towards him. you think you’re happy enough as long as you can see Sunghoon but what happens when you discovered that you were sick?

word count: 8.7k

warnings: I’m no doctor, I’m not professional at these kind of stuff. I did some research but since i’m not that smart I might not make it so clear and might have mentioned some wrong things but please be considerate and just act like I know what i’m saying. lol

a/n: YOU HAVE TO READ THIS!! So, I’ve asked for opinions if whether I should make it a happy ending or nah, and since the opinions were in half, I decided to do both. Yeah, both. So, this one is the happy ending one, if you’re interested in reading the other version which is the tragic on, here. I just want to tell you that I cried writing that one. I decided to do both versions since I, myself can’t even choose what I wanted. I have ideas and plots for happy endings that obviously I cannot include in the sad one and vice versa. So why not make the two version, right? So everyone is happy!!! 🌸

tag list: @jakeysim @kpoppinandlockin @en-sun @f1iore @dilfhwa @rubyanne @enhappy @bunnylover0193

Park Sunghoon

Class 3 - A - “The Ice Prince”

You watched Sunghoon did a perfect routine during his practice for ice-skating one day. While leaning over the railings holding a bottle of water and some light snacks, you waited patiently for the perfect timing to greet him. Your eyes settled over his black hair that’s naturally swaying with his graceful movements. His pale complexion that gives highlight to his now tinted red cheeks. His breath fogged out from his pink soft looking lips as he exhale. He’s always wearing this blank face and still look so ethereal.

A proud small smile appeared over his slightly red face as his mentor gives him compliments for what he just did. You can’t help but to smile as well. This is the rare moments where you see him make different expressions. One of the reason why you love going to his practices.

Sunghoon was given a 15 minutes break that quickly made you jolt a little at your position. Out of excitement, you wanted to go and greet him right away but you tried to contain it and just wait for him.

“hello, y/n.” being someone who’s often in the ice arena, people knew you already. You gave them a warm smile and waved a little before going straight towards Sunghoon.

He was busy fiddling with some of his stuff. With a bright smile you tried to approach him as silent as you can be. When you were near him, you clapped your hands.

“That was a good routine.” you suddenly said. It didn’t surprised him at all. He just turned his head towards your direction then furrowed his brows at you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. You kept your smile then handed him the water and snacks that you’re holding.

“Water?” you offered. His eyes darted over at the one you were handing him. He sighed as he pursed his lips over at the side trying to suppress his emotions.

“I have one already.” and he even raised his hand that’s holding a water jug. You pouted and then offered him the snacks instead.

“How about snacks? I bet you don’t have it!” you quickly tilted your head to go and look over his stuff to check if there’s any snacks prepared.

He sighed heavily as he stared down over at you. He’s way taller than you so your head was just below his chin. He sniffed, nose starting to get a little bit cold because of staying around the ice rink for too long.

“y/n, you’re supposed to be in the class right now.” he interrupted what you’re doing making you pout a bit more then stand straight in front of him fiddling with the snacks you were holding. His eyes looked fierce as he stares right at you. Feeling kind of intimidated, you lowered down your head.

“How about you? You’re supposed to be in the class too but you’re here!” you even tried to reason out using some nonsense thoughts. You yourself find it a little stupid to say that but it’s too late to take it back. Sunghoon’s already furrowing his brows at you with annoyed look and confusion over his face.

“What? I’m excused because of practice, y/n! What are you even talking about?” he asked you that made your lips pursed more into a pout. You lowered your head.

“I just want to see you...” you muttered under your breath. It was just enough for Sunghoon to hear it. He let out a sigh as he raised one of his hand to massage the bridge of his nose before puffing out a more calmer sigh.

“Alright, you saw me already.” he walked towards his things and laid down his water jug beside his bag. You saw how his eyes darted over you right after. With a quick glance over his eyes, you quickly looked away. It’s not the first time he gave you those icy stares but it still gets you every time.

“Go to class now.” he commanded firmly as he stare at you. Sunghoon was used to your presence. You were always vocal about how you feel towards him so he clearly knows why you’re acting like this. He don’t want to be rude to you since you’re not really doing anything bad.

With a pout you raised your head up, gathering some courage to look right into his icy blank eyes. Butterflies in your stomach went crazy the moment you two met eyes. With a blushing cheeks your hand rise up showing him the snacks you were holding.

“At least take the snacks.” you were pretty consistent too. One thing about you is that you don’t give up so easily. Especially if it’s Sunghoon that we’re talking about. He just kept you going for some reason. You’ve never liked anyone this way and you don’t think you can ever like somebody like this.

Sunghoon sighed as his eyes looked over your now shaded red hand. Because its so cold, your hands now were freezing a bit and it’s red already. Without saying anything, Sunghoon just gently grabbed the snacks and placed it above his bag then moved inside the ice rink because his coach was already calling him.

Your smile grew bigger as you looked at him skating away from where you were. It was just a simple gesture, he didn’t even said anything but still, it made you so happy. To be acknowledged by him, it’s already enough for you.

You smiled brightly as you jogged towards Sunghoon’s table. He was already seated and was flipping through his books. Everyone else were busy talking with their friends and here he is busy fiddling with his text book. Typical, Sunghoon.

You knocked over his table to catch his attention and you succeeded because he raised his head and his icy blank eyes met your warm ones. You smiled showing of your teeth and your eyes smiles together with your lips. You excitedly waved towards him as he gave you those stares. Butterflies went crazy inside your stomach, as usual.

“Good morning!” you greeted him with a smile. He just stared right at you before nodding his head once. Your smile grew bigger and you started walking towards your table to put your things down. Your seat happen to be just beside Sunghoon that’s why you get so lonely whenever he’s not there because of training.

Your teacher arrived and the class soon started. Everyone settled down and silent themselves once she started talking about the discussion for today. You’re silent too but you pulled out something from your bag. With a small smile after glancing over Sunghoon’s direction, you saw how he’s seriously eyeing in front listening attentively. He looked so handsome while a serious face was plastered over his face.

You slowly slid in to his part a notebook. It caught Sunghoon’s attention so he stared down at it for a while before his brows furrowed even more.

“What is this?” he asked you sounding so confused. You gave him a small smile before you looked back in front.

“Notes. I took notes of the lessons you missed because of practice.” you said trying hard to be heard by your teacher.

Sunghoon stared over at the cute notebook and clenched his jaw. He was about to say something but you interrupted him.

“You can’t say no. Just act that I didn’t prepare it for you. Put that inside your bag and I won’t ever bring up that you accepted it.”

“You don’t need to do this, y/n. I can handle myself. The teachers can even provide me the notes, you know?” he didn’t sound upset, offended or anything. It’s like he’s just making you understand a point. You do understand, but you can say you’re a little stubborn.

It just makes you happy whenever you help him even in the smallest ways. You feel like your life had make sense. Sounds a bit weird but that’s how it makes you feel.

You rolled your eyes as you looked back at him. His eyes were already darted over at you so you can’t help but to blush as you stared at each other’s eyes. You can’t still stand it so you lost and looked away.

“I know that but now you won’t have to ask for the notes from them since I already made you one. And besides, isn’t it the thought that counts?” you suddenly turned your head towards him because you thought he’s not looking anymore but your eyes grew big as your nose touched each other.

Sunghoon was caught off guard too. He didn’t even realized that he was leaning so close to you. With both of your cheeks tinted red, you quickly move away from him gulping a bit too hard to get rid of the sudden lump over your throat. You’re not sure if someone saw what just happened but you’re too flustered to even care about it.

The awkwardness slowly grew between you and Sunghoon as the discussion continued. You tilted your head trying to scribble over your notebook. Sunghoon, on the other hand, was trying to catch up to whatever the teacher was saying. His mind was occupied by how close your face was to his tho. He didn’t know you have beautiful eyes. Were your eyes had always been that pretty?

As the discussion went on, the more the two of you slowly feel at ease. It slowly faded away and you two listened carefully to the lesson. Nobody dares to look in each other’s eyes again during the whole period. You feel like your heart will burst if you look at him so refused even though you badly want to.

Break came faster than you expected it to, maybe because you were occupied you didn’t notice the time. As you and your friend walk your way towards the cafeteria to have lunch, you noticed Sunghoon with his friends. They’re kind of loud and loves to goof around while Sunghoon watches them silently. He have this small smirk over his face.

He’s an introvert and just prefer to stick to his small circle of friends that made you interested to him even more. You’re curious as to how he is when he’s with those people he’s close to. When he’s with the people he cares and value. Your stomach turns just by thinking of caring Sunghoon, bet he’s so warm to those people. You can’t help but to feel a little envy.

“Watching Sunghoon again, huh?” your friend took notice of your eyes not leaving the quiet boy. You smiled at her and you started eating your lunch. Your table was just a couple of tables away from their group so you can hear them being loud and rowdy.

“He’s so cute, right?” you told your friend while smiling. She gave you a smile as well and nodded her head. She’s actually amused at how you’re so consistent with showering Sunghoon love. She feels bad too because she thinks the boy is just too cold and you don’t deserve that kind of treatment.

“Don’t you think he’s a bit too cold for you?” she asked you and your smile faltered a little bit but you were quick enough to put it up once again. You thought about it as well but you just can’t find anyone you can like other than him. You tried, but you just can’t seem to like anybody else other than him.

Your eyes dropped over to your food, “He isn’t called the Ice Prince for nothing, f/n.” then you smiled at her. She rolled her eyes as she chuckle realizing you have a point.

“I’ll serve as the warm one, he’ll provide the cold.” you jokingly stated that made her laugh. That actually made sense because you are a very warm person that people really just can’t help but to adore you. You’re always bright and positive.

You walked inside the Ice arena holding a water bottle at one hand and snacks at the other one. It’s weekend and you heard that Sunghoon’s gonna be here and since you have nothing else to do, you decided to drop by even just for a short time. You just want to see him doing short routines and maybe give him the things you brought with you.

As you enter, you already saw him at the rink doing some moves that you don’t know. It was graceful as always for your opinion but something’s just not right, he’s face looked so stressed out. He isn’t wearing his usual blank expression while he’s coach were telling him a few things. He ran his hands over to his hair once.

The frustration get a bit more clearer the more you approach the railings. There’s nobody else here with him practicing. He stopped at doing three amazing spins but despite that he looked unsatisfied. He slid towards his coach as he told him things that just made his jaw clenched. You’re a bit far from him so you can’t hear it but it seems like he isn’t happy about it.

He ran his hands over to his hair again as he nodded his head towards the coach. He tapped his shoulder once before he exited the rink off to somewhere. You watched as Sunghoon skate his way towards a bench to maybe rest. You pouted feeling upset now that he looked upset.

A big heavy sigh was the first one you heard the moment you approached him. He clasped his hands together as he rested his elbows over his knees. His eyes were pierced over to the vacant ice rink. He seems like to be in his deep thought as you watch his fingers fiddled a bit too furiously.

“I thought you want to keep your hands clean as much as possible? It won’t look clean if you bruised it.” you decided to let him know your presence.

He looked over your direction a bit surprised that you’re here. Well, you do often come during his practices but today is weekend. He didn’t actually expect you to be here at all.

You gave him a small wave and your signature bright smile and walked even closer. He just silently watch as you approach where he was seating.

“What are you doing here?” sounding a bit amused, it didn’t came out as a rude remark. It came out more of with curiosity.

You smiled again like as if you’re not smiling already then sat down over at the bench next to where Sunghoon was. “I came to see you practicing.” you were honest and direct to the point.

He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes looking away. “You should go, this isn’t really a good time to bother me.” he bit his lower lip after letting out those words. He was frustrated that he can’t stop his own mouth from saying harsh words. Sunghoon is cold towards you, but he never been so rude.

He was just so stressed out because of practice. With the competition just around the corner and all the pressure the people around him was giving him, he can’t keep himself calm down.

You pouted, you’ve never seen him this frustrated in all the practices that you’ve been present. It somehow upsets you because you don’t want him looking like this.

“Why? What’s going on?” Sunghoon furrowed his brows at you clenching his jaw as your soft voice slowly reached out over his iced heart.

He was about to tell you to go home and leave him be because he’s kind of getting alarmed by how you’re making him feel but he was stunned when your eyes met his. He suddenly got the flash back of your eyes in up-close.

“Are you okay?” you asked once again with worry all over your eyes. Sunghoon lost it. For weeks of being under so much pressure and heavy practices, this is the first time someone actually asked if he’s okay.

He lowered his head feeling something melting inside of him. You got worried seeing him like this so without even realizing it, you walked towards him and sat down closer.

“Is everything okay?” you asked again then gulped worriedly.

Sunghoon shut his eyes balling his fist. He was restraining himself to be close to you since he think it wouldn’t be good for the two of you but your soft voice and comforting aura doesn’t help him after all. It kept on sounding so comforting like as if something’s pulling him closer to you.

He looked at your eyes for a while before he glanced away seconds after. He gulped, “I’m so t-tired.” there’s something in his voice that you couldn’t explain. It hurts you to hear him like that.

“Then rest. If you’re tired, there’s nothing wrong with taking a break.” you don’t know what to tell him exactly because you’re not an ice skater first of all, then you’re not sporty as well.

He looked at you with his blank expression that made you a bit anxious. You probably sound dumb at what you said and it didn’t made sense to him at all. You sighed and pursed your lips before you starred over the snacks down at your hand.

“Look, Sunghoon. You might feel under a lot of pressure right now that’s why you’re pushing yourself to do so much. I understand that you want to do good and everything but you also need to rest. Physically and mentally, if you’re tired you need to at least take a break.” you heaved a sigh after telling him those words.

His eyes slowly trailed down to his hands that were now calmer than before. He do realized how the pressure stressed him out and did think it kind of not healthy for him anymore. But he doesn’t really have a choice, it’s not like he have anything better to do other than to practice.

He sighed and pushed himself up to go back to the ice rink and maybe practice a little bit more of those routines. You followed him silently as a brilliant suddenly came up inside your head. You stood up leaving the snacks and water back at the bench as you come near the railings to call for Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon!” You shouted his name. He was already half-way in the middle of the rink when he turned his head over at you. With a little hand gestures of him to come closer, he let out a sigh and with a blushing face, he did approach you.

You smiled as he came closer, “Do you want to like spend the day with me instead? We can do all fun stuff today so you can relax!” you told him. You’re not really sure if he’ll agree or what but you still want to try your shot. Honestly, you don’t have anything plan for today. You just really want to go at the ice rink to go and see him even just for a short time but since it worries you so much, you wanted to at least make him feel a bit better.

He stared at you for a while before rested one of his hand over at the railings. Your eyes darted it for a while and you blush when you noticed it inches away from yours.

“What will we do? And besides, I don’t think my coach will let me go today.” he said sounding a bit bored. You smiled and raised your hand showing him your pale palm because of cold. Sunghoon’s eyes noticed it and realized even when you’ve been here a lot of times, you must’ve been still not used too with the cold.

“I can ask for his permission myself! You can just wait for me here.” you told him excitedly. The fact that he didn’t really straight up rejected your offered hyped you up.

He can’t even say anything else with what you said. He’s used to about your pursuing skills but he can’t believe you can go as far as that just for him. You smiled at him, making him blush a bit. You didn’t noticed it since you turned around and walked towards where his coach is probably.

You did see him talking to somebody so you patiently wait for them to finish. When you saw them bidding good-bye’s with each other, you straight up went closer to him.

“Coach-nim!” you called him out. When he noticed you, he kind of looked surprised because it is weekend. He do know you for someone who likes Sunghoon and visit him here often.

“oh, y/n-ah! What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I came to watch Sunghoon, coach-nim.” you smiled at him. He smiled as well finding it amusing how hard working you are for Sunghoon.

“Really? But Sunghoon’s not in good condition today, tho? He kept on making mistakes with his routines.” he sounded worried for him too. You pouted feeling worried once again.

“About that... can I snatch him from practice today? I feel like he’s under so much pressure lately that it stressed him out too much.” you said with both hands clasped together like as if you’re praying.

His brows furrowed and did noticed that Sunghoon did look like he’s under so much stress lately. With a smile, he gave you a small nod. You shrieked in happiness.

“Maybe Sunghoon do need to relax to lessen his stress.” he said. Both of you walked back to the ice rink together. You listened carefully with his reminders with you. He asked you to avoid heavy activities that might cause injury to Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon!” he called out the boy who’s in the middle of the ice rink and still trying to do some routines. He raised his head and looked over your direction. He slowly skate closer and his coach talked to him and his eyes darted over at you. After their talk, he skates outside the rink and gather all his stuff.

“I’ll just change. C-Can you wait for a bit?” he asked glancing away for a while because he’s shy. You chuckled and nodded excitedly at him.

“Where are we going?” he asked you as he followed behind you cutely. You turned your head towards him and saw him starring at you like a bored child.

He’s walking so slow, cutely waddling behind you. With a sigh and after you rolled your eyes, you decided to walk closer to him and pull him by his arm. “Can you just follow me?”

You didn’t told him where you two will be going because you wanted to surprise him. As you made it to the building, Sunghoon starred at it innocently. It’s obvious he haven’t been there before which is a good sign. As you pull him inside, he realized you took him to a pet cafe.

He grew a small smile over at his face because he do want to go here but because he can’t find himself asking his friends to go with him, he didn’t had the chance to. And besides, he don’t want to go alone.

“Y/n!” the owner already know you since you’re often here. You gave her a hug as her eyes darted over the tall figure behind you. He have this blank expression with his face but he did bowed a little to show manners.

“Who’s this fine man with you?” her eyes gave the two of you those teasing look. Sunghoon glanced away as he scratched the back of his head feeling shy as you blush as well.

“U-Unnie, this is Sunghoon. Sunghoon, meet f/n unnie. She’s a friend and she owns the cafe.” you said. He bowed again, still looked liked a snob. Your unnie’s moth went ‘o’ as she realized it’s the guy you’re always talk about.

“Oh! He’s Sunghoon! The one you always talk about!” she blurted out even before you can stop her. You blush hard as that caught Sunghoon’s attention. He looked at you and saw how your face was so red.

Slowly, a small smile spread through his face finding you cute. Before your Unnie can spill more about you talking about Sunghoon, you asked if you two can go inside and play with the dogs. She did let you in and thankfully let the two of you play with them peacefully.

“So you talk about me with other people?” Sunghoon was suddenly in the mood to tease you. He said that while you’re seating beside him busy feeding the dogs that were hovering you around.

You blushed once again as you lower down your head. It made him smile even more, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarra--”

“Nah, that’s okay. I just hope they’re all good things.” he said that made you raise your head to look at him. He’s not looking at you anymore but he have this small smile over his face as he play with the other dogs.

“Aaaaaack! No! They’re everywhere! Where is it? AAAAAA Y/n help!” you can’t stop laughing as you watch Sunghoon do the VR thing. You’ve never thought you’ll see this side of him. It was so cute!

He reached over you trying to get a hold of your arm for support but you moved away making him scream as the zombie in the game kept crowding him. He was gaining attention the moment you two entered the place because he’s so good-looking, now he gathered attention because he screamed so much.

You were having the best time of your life just by watching him enjoy (?) the VR. When he finished, it looked like he lost his soul and that made you laugh so hard. His head snapped over your direction then marched towards you making your shriek in terror and ran away. But he scooted you pretty quickly and spun you around once both of you end up laughing.

“I told you I don’t like the scary one!” he told you but you were still busy laughing. He then broke into a smile as he watch you laugh heartedly. It was a fun scene to enjoy.

You two spend the whole day just randomly trying new stuff together. It ended pretty well and without even realizing it, you two just grew closer to each other. Time passed by quickly and after enjoying the day, Sunghoon decided to walk you home already. You two were just silently walking side by side but it wasn’t awkward at all.

With hands holding an ice cream, you two trailed the way over to your house. As you arrived, you turned to face him smiling. You can’t describe how happy you’re currently feeling. It was just overwhelming.

“Thank you for today, Sunghoon! I really had fun.” with full sincerity, you told Sunghoon starring at his eyes. You blushed as you saw how his lips formed into a smile. His hand then reached out to you then gently messes your hair. You were dumbfounded for a moment.

“I should be the one thanking you.” he shortly replied. With your cheeks still blushing like crazy, you smiled at him.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?” you asked curiously, eyes getting a bit bigger with anticipation. Sunghoon smirked as he find you cute with that innocent looking face.

“I feel so much better now.” and he smiled once again. Your lips fell open when he showed you those smile again. You can’t even count how many times he smiled today! You are so happy that you’ve got to make him smile. Is this how a Park Sunghoon warms up to people?

“I’m glad I could help.” you felt shy when you realized you’ve been starring so much. After a small wave, he told you to go inside since it’s late already.

Feeling a bit sad that the day’s finally over, you pouted as you turn around then started walking towards your house. You were already near the house when he suddenly called out for you.

“Y/n!” you were fast to turned back around waiting for what he’s gonna say.

Showing off his boyish grin, he told you, “Next weekend, do you want to skate?” your heart beat went crazy the moment you heard him say that. Is he asking you to hang out with him?

“That sounds so fun but I don’t know how to skate!” you ended it with a pout that made him chuckled softly.

“That’s fine, you got me beside you the whole time. You’ve got the best trainer with you.” and he even raised his fist cutely. Your smile got bigger, looking at him.

You raised your fist at mid-air too, “Yay! I’m excited!”

“You’re here.” he noticed you right away when you entered the arena. He’s the only one in the middle the rink and as usual, Sunghoon looked fine. The week passed by like a blur. With the exams nearing, everyone was busy and Sunghoon was busy with practices as well so he didn’t went to school that much.

“Hi.” you greeted shyly. You don’t know what’s up with you but you’re extra shy today. Knowing that he invited you to be here this time and that you didn’t come here uninvited feels so great.

He smiled, “Let’s gear you up first!” he sounded excited. Well he is excited. He really did had so much fun last weekend so he’s really looking forward to making you try skating. He skate towards the exit so he can go out of the rink and help you with the figure skates. He told you he’ll provide one so you won’t have to worry about it.

Sunghoon helped you wearing it, like literally he made you sit down and he’s the one who wear it to your feet. After that, you started feeling nervous again just by thinking of going inside the rink. But despite of the worried feeling, you were excited. Excited to know more of him by joining in one of the things he values the most.

“Okay, careful. I’ll hold unto you, don’t worry.” he was very patient as he guides you inside the rink. As expected it wasn’t easy, but having Sunghoon beside you sure helped a lot.

Step by step, he tried teaching you the basics. He told you how you can safely land to prevent injuries and what to do to keep your balance and so on. Slowly, you did some progress faster than you expected.

“Woah, you’re talented!” he exclaimed and right after he said that you fell flat your butt.

There’s a couple seconds of silence before you two broke into laughter. It didn’t hurt but it sure is embarrassing but making it as a source of laughter eases it down. He skates easily towards you to help you get up.

“Chase me down, y/n! I’ll buy you ice cream if you can touch me even for once!” he suddenly told you as he dash away from you. You shrieked at him but tried your very best to catch him.

He played with you pretty badly as he kept on skating fast when you just learned how to do it. With a pout you finally gave up. He chuckled finding you cute as he slowly approached you.

“Since you worked hard, I’ll give you consolation price.” he said with a smirk over his face.

“What is it?” you asked curious.

“Ice cream.”

You laughed, "Your price is ice cream and your consolation price is ice cream too?" you asked finding it funny. He just nodded his head like an excited kid.

When he near you, you smiled at him. “Why don’t you do some routines for me? I’ll be here and watch.” you suddenly suggested.

Sunghoon's eyes darted you and you saw something flickered into his eyes. He smirked as he ran his hand over his hair once.

“What do I get in return?” he asked you teasing. You pursed your lips in a pout trying to think of something you can bribe him.

On the other hand, Sunghoon was busy eyeing your puckered lips. It was so red like your cheeks because of the cold. He gulped trying to look away but his eyes trail back over to your lips for some reason. He tilted his head a bit trying to shrug off the taught.

“What do you want then?” you ended up just asking him. You can’t think of things to bribe him so you decided to just ask him. You’re pretty sure you’ll try and give it to him just to see him skate exclusively for you today.

He smirked slowly skating towards you.

“How about a kiss?” your smile faltered at what you just heard from him.

You even thought you heard the wrong thing. Are you that crazy for him that you actually misheard him asking you for a kiss? Aaaa. Unhealthy.

You shook your head a bit, “H-Huh?” you asked trying to make him say it again to be clear.

He smirked and made it in front of you. Feeling nervous you slid your feet away from him but he was quick enough to go closer. He leaned downward so your eyes will be at the same level.

"a kiss?”

Your cheeks turned so hot as your eyed starred intensely through each other. He showed you a boyish grin showing off that cute vampire teeth at the corner. You gulped, trying to show him it didn’t affect you that much even though you can feel your heart going crazy inside of you.

“O-Okay! A kiss in the cheek if you do the routine perfectly.” slowly leaning away you saw his smirk towards you.

“I didn’t say anything about cheeks. What do you think of me, a child? I want a kiss in the lip---” you were quick enough to interrupt what he was saying.

“Go on and start with it Park Sunghoon. I repeat, I want it to be perfect. I’ll be very strict.” you tried shutting off what he just saying. He chuckled finding it cute that you kept changing the topic.

He did a playful salute. “Yes, Ma'am.” and he swiftly skate towards the middle. Sunghoon felt at ease as he started doing the routines he’s been practicing for his next competition. He was completely into it when he started skating gracefully. Your mouth fell open as you watch his every moves. He’s very talented and it feels like he's really born to skate.

You can’t help but to feel a bit teary eyed when you saw him smiling while skating. He really do enjoy it so much. As he gracefully do everything without any mistakes, you just find your heart beating like crazy. It's like it’s rejoicing because the person who she belongs to.

Wiping off the tears away quickly before he can even see it, Sunghoon was smiling brightly as he approach you closer.

“How’s that?”

“Perfect.” you muttered right away. He smiled and leaned downward towards you.

You get it right away so you blushed furiously then sighed heavily trying to calm yourself down. He smirked as he tapped his cheeks where he wants you to give him a kiss. With another big sigh, you decided to lean fast to ease the racing of your heart.

But Sunghoon suddenly turned his head purposely causing both of your lips crashing into each other. Your eyes grew big as you became dumbfounded at the moment. He copied your expression making you feel flustered even more. He started skating away and you tried to catch him behind.

“Yah! Come back here!”

“Catch me first!”

And you two continued the day by just playing with each other in the rink growing closer and developing something special between the two of you.

As Monday came, you were early in school because you had to copy some notes in one subject that you happen to miss because of a club meeting. You're too busy with what you were doing that you didn’t noticed Sunghoon entering the room. Girls inside the room greeted him that he didn’t really bothered responding to. They were used to it tho, he’s naturally like that.

But what they didn’t expect is when he smiled a little as he approach the seat beside you. Finding you too occupied by what you were writing, he suddenly covered your eyes from behind.

You smiled after being shock for a while, “Park Sunghoon, i’m copying notes right now.” you muttered that made him smirk as he lets go from you.

“How did you know?”

“Your hands were too cold. How’s practice?” you asked. He's from practice and he went straight here for class that’s why his hands were cold.

He sat down beside you as he kept your eyes glued at you. It’s like there’s nobody else inside the room, it’s like it’s just the two of you. For him, you’re one of the few people he freely lets into his world.

You fished something from your bag then handed it over to him then you continued writing once again. Sunghoon looked over at what you handed him with confused eyes.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Hot packs. I bought them on my way here. I figured your hands would be so cold so I decided to buy you some.” you told him like it was nothing. But without you knowing, you just caught him off guard. You’re naturally caring but he didn’t know if he deserve something as great as this.

He didn’t even notice he grew attached to you. With a small smile he opened the hot packs and kept smiling like an idiot beside you.

The students around you were obviously amused at how you two were acting. The girls envied how affectionate he is towards you. They’ve never seen him like that. Suddenly, the Ice Prince is now warm towards someone. It sure is interesting.

The days continued like that. You two becoming more close to each other. You often spend time together and find it odd whenever one of you is not around. It’s like you two can’t be a part from each other anymore.

“Where are you going?” he asked when he noticed you rising up from your seat.

You looked at him and smiled, “I’m just going to the rest room.” you told him.

He gave you a short nod trying hard not to ask you if he can go and accompany you. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s a creep or something.

You hurried yourself to the bathroom when you feel a bit off. Lately, you noticed that you’re not feeling well. You often just shrug it off telling yourself that maybe it’s just because you didn’t have enough sleep or something. The moment you arrived at the bathroom, you felt yourself coughing so you did. It was a bit hard and made your chest ache a bit.

As you raise your head to look in the mirror, you were confused as you saw blood streaming down your nose.

Sunghoon grew so attached to you that’s why when you suddenly skipped class for almost a week now, he grew worried of you. He didn’t want to make you think he’s too clingy or anything so he tried really hard not to go to your house. Maybe you’re on a vacation. But without telling him? You often tell things to him.

Feeling so frustrated about it, he decided to approach your friend. He never talked to her but for you, he’ll do it.

“f/n.” he called her out with cold flat voice.

She turned her head towards him a little shock that Park Sunghoon is in front of her. The students together with her was dumbfounded as well.

“Uh, do you know where Y/n is or is anything happened to her?”

She felt something lights up inside of her that make her happy seeing how Sunghoon really warmed up for you. She realized that you really did melt the ice in him but she slowly felt a bit sad for the two of you.

She tried pulling off a smile for him.

“She was sick for days so she can’t go to school, Sunghoon.” she saw how he furrowed his brows. When it comes to you, he sure do shows a lot of expressions.

"why she didn’t tell me?” she shrugged her shoulder off.

“maybe she didn’t want to worry you.” he wasn’t convinced. He’s still furrowing his brows.

He clenched his jaw as he nodded at her, “Okay. I’ll just go and see her later.

”Her eyes grew big, “No! U-Uh, she’ll go to school tomorrow so you don’t have to check on her anymore.” even if she sounded a bit suspicious for Sunghoon, to hear that you’re finally going to school sure excites him.

He nodded and turned his back at her after saying a soft thank you.

“Sunghoon!” to hear your voice sure made him so happy but he made sure he didn’t show it. He turned around showing off a serious expression.

His eyes trailed from your hair down to your feet. There you are, walking closer to him. He didn’t even realize how much he missed you until you’re now here again in front of him.

He rolled his eyes. “What made you think it’s a good decision not to tell me that you’re sick?” he asked you with furrowed brows.

You kept your smile, to see him again after so long just made you so happy. To see him in front of you looking so worried makes you somewhat happy because it just showed how he cares for you.

But it also makes you so scared. How come all of this is happening right after you became close to the person you love? You felt so guilty for making him grew close to you and seeing him getting attach to you just makes it even more hurtful.

Why does all of this have to happen after you melted the Ice Prince’s ice?

Sunghoon noticed right away that you’re unusually pale. Your lips aren’t as red as always and your face seems like it lost weight.

He raised his hand to cup your face, “Why are you so pale? Are you still sick?” he asked, worry lures over his tone.

Stopping yourself from crying you smiled, shaking your head lightly. “I’m fine now.” you lied.

“I have something for you.” you said changing the topic. He furrowed his brow as he looked down over the gift you prepared for him.

Since you’ve been gone for a week, you missed a lot of things including Sunghoon’s match. He did won and you were so proud of him.

“What’s this?” Sunghoon asked eyes glued over to the present.

You pouted, “I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your match.” you started feeling a bit more emotional. Starting to feel a little ache over your chest, you tried to dismiss the thought.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re okay now.” he told you and brushed away some strands of hair away from your pale face.

He clenched his jaw while he examined you. He couldn’t tell what’s up but something sure is wrong.

You smiled trying really hard to stop yourself from crying. You handed him the gift again making him raise up his head to you.

Your eyesight slowly became blurry as the pain in your body kind of became impossible to ignore.

As he looked back to you, his brows furrowed when he saw blood rushing down to your nose.

“Are you okay? Y/n!” he was fast enough to catch you when you lost consciousness. He tried to wake you up as he called out for help.

Your friend saw and quickly dialed your parent’s number. Everyone’s shock at what’s happening. Sunghoon was panicking as he stared at your unconscious self.

“Sunghoon, carry her. Let’s take her out of the building. We already called the ambulance.” Sunghoon looked up over to his friend, Heeseung

He nodded and easily carried you. As he ran while you’re over his arm, he doesn’t know how much fear he was feeling. To have you over his arm looking like that scared him so much. He doesn’t know what’s happening to you or what’s wrong. He’s never been this scared in his life.

“y/n! Hold on, baby.” he whispered eyes getting a bit teary and lips shaking.

All you can hear was muffled sound. You feel like you’re whole body was so heavy and that you’re in somewhere deep. Everything was dark but you sure can hear familiar voices around you.

You can hear your Mom’s soft cries, your Dad’s voice that’s trying to calm her down. But there were nowhere around. You can’t see anything but dark. It feared you.

“Y/n, sweetie.” you can hear your Mom called out for you.

As you feel warm hands gently massaging your arm, like as if some force pulled you, your eyes slowly opened to be greeted by a familiar room.

“U-Umma...” heads snapped towards you. You saw your Mother smiled warmly at you. She looked so happy despite of the tears all over her eyes.

As you roam your eyes around, your heart pounded when you realized you’re back at the hospital. Where they kept you for a week... away from Sunghoon.

Sunghoon...

You were with him. And as if on cue, Sunghoon’s tall figure came into your line of sight. You saw his worried and at the same time relieved face. His eyes... it isn’t cold. It was like it just finished from crying.

Your eyes cried as you glanced away from him, guilty. Pain was all over your body but the pain in your heart for him was the one that stands out the most.

“I don’t want to be here! I wanna go home, umma!” You started crying loudly making everyone go in panic.

Your brother looked over Sunghoon and asked if he can call the doctor that he quickly agreed too. You fainted two days before and ever since, he can’t sleep properly.

When he was on his way back to your room, he heard you crying to your family. He stopped from walking inside deciding that he should go and give you guys some privacy. But before your feet can even move, he heard you mentioning his name.

“He can’t know about my condition, umma! Please, just tell him not to go here anymore! I don't want to see him! He’s just gonna be sad, it’ll hurt him. It’s my fault appa!” you cried hardly. He clenched his fist as he heard you say those words.

“I’m gonna die. I’ll leave him soon, it’ll break him.” Sunghoon’s eyes watered as he heard you say those words.

To hear that you’ve got Leukemia felt like his whole world colapsed, to hear it actually from you, just hits him too hard.

“Y/n! You’re not gonna die! We’re here for you. The doctor’s said you can still make it. Honey, you won’t die.” Your Mom told you but you just kept crying.

Your brother reached over your hand as both your parents hugged you, crying. You looked over your brother and it broke him. To see his sister at a state like this, pale and full of pain was hard for him. He’s not used to it.

“Oppa, i don’t want my ice prince sad. I don’t want to see him sad, please.” your plea hurts him even more. Sunghoon heard everything and he was sad as well. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to stay beside you.

He loves you, and if anything, this is the time where you need him the most. He won’t disappoint you.

Sunghoon didn’t visit for days. You kind of admit, you missed his presence. But you thought, it’s also for the best.

“Y/n, honey? Do you want to go at the rooftop?” you turned over your Mom and she’s smiling at you.

You lost weight pretty fast than expected. You‘re starting to feel your whole body to ache more often too. With a nod, you decided to go to the place in this hospital that somehow ease your worries.

Slowly, you and your Mom went over the rooftop. But after she opened the entrance, you already started bursting into tears.

There were cute decorations everywhere. Some of your relatives were there. As your Mom slowly guides you at the center, your eyes met a pair of familiar eyes.

The eyes of the person you’ve been missing.

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked towards him.

He smiled a little approaching you while holding a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Your eyes watered and so does the people around you.

“I love you, y/n.”

Of course you’re aware of what he felt towards you. That’s why you knew as well he’ll be so sad if he knew about your condition.

You tried smiling even when tears stream down your eyes, “Acute Myeloid Leukemia said no, Sunghoon. It said I’m all his.” you tried to say it as a joke.

He shed tears as well and it broke you. You didn’t know looking at him standing in front of you hurt. You're scared to leave this people around you.

“Call him out then, baby. Let’s beat him together. Let’s beat that cancer together.” your eyes looked over his hand that was reaching out for you. With eyes full of tears, you reached out for it.

Sunghoon pulled you into a hug as everyone cheered around you. He was happy to have you around his arms. He loves you so much that he’ll never leave you.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon.” you cried over his chest. He dropped a kiss over your head before whispering, “I know, but I’ll be just here for you. We’ll all be here for you.”

You nodded your head and that where it all started. That's where you’re fight with cancer started. You struggled a lot but he made sure he was there. He made sure you know he was with you in every trials.

It was decided that the only way to cure you was a bone marrow transplant. The doctor said that if the operation went well, you’ll be good. You’ll live. It wasn’t easy to look for a donor. You’ve waited and waited. And Sunghoon was with you all along. Months passed by and you’re love just grew even more stronger.

He stayed with you always and had proved his love to you. He was very patient at you and always make sure hat you’re well and everything. He was there to cheer you up every time you feel like losing hope, he’s there to make you happy, he’s there to calm you down and he’s there to keep you on fighting. You’re just beyond thankful for him.

Then it finally happened, with tears all over your eyes you called Sunghoon. He was in the middle of practice for a competition.

“Baby! Is everything alright?” he picked up right away.

“Sunghoon...”

His heart thumped in worry.

“Tell me what baby? You’re making me nervous right now.”

“The doctor called... She said I already have a donor.”

Sunghoon was silent in the other line. He was crying. This time, happy tears. It felt like all your wait was all worth it.

“You’ll be alright.” Sunghoon said to you while smiling. You’re already in your hospital gown.

“I’ll see you guys later.” you tried to look brave for all of them. Sunghoon smiled at you as he leaned forward giving you a smack over your lips.

“Come back to me healthy, okay?” he muttered.

You nodded your head and waved at them. You were taken at the room where they’ll perform the surgery.

“Are you ready, y/n?” your doctor asked you.

You nodded as you slowly felt your eyes getting heavy.

“Do you promise to get me ice cream after?” you pouted over at Sunghoon who’s leaning over the railings.

He nodded smiling at you with a cocky grin, “If you can beat me, baby.” and he slid his way towards you to give you a kiss at your lips.

You frowned at your boyfriend, “Don’t you think you’re being a little unfair here? You’re asking me to race you!”

He smiled at your cuteness and just shrugged his shoulders off. You rolled your eyes, surrendering.

You finally concurred cancer. Sunghoon did stayed with you and never left your side. He was so happy that you’re okay now and that he can spend the rest of his life with you. For him, to be given the opportunity of meeting you is just life-turn event. You were his happiness.

When you started sliding through the ice, you were smiling at the thought you’re getting ahead of him only to be surprised when he hugged you suddenly.

"i love you, y/n."

You smiled warmly returning the hug. “I love you, Sunghoon. Thank you for staying beside me.”

He smiled, “Thank you for not leaving me and for fighting.” and he leaned towards you kissing you passionately.

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