#ITS A VERY SWEET SILLY LITTLE AU THAT MAYBE ONE DAY I WILL WRITE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

j4y-lvr · 1 year

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day flower … park jongseong

SYNOPSIS. bent over the sink, coughing up petals and blood, you knew that your worst fears had come true.

PAIRING. jay x fem!reader

GENRE. fluff, angst, lovers2?, established!relationship (?), hanahaki au

WARNINGS. profanity, mentions of food, mentions of blood, quite a lot of kissing, possibly making out (?), one mention of loss of weight, graphic, mcd(?), death(?)

WORD COUNT. 5.3k

NOTE. i just wanted to write something sad and i came up with this,, idk why i chose jay to fit my mental image of this bc its so saddening to even imagine— EVEN THOUGH ITS SAD PLS DO READ😭‼ thoughts on an alternative ending? update:: I MADE ONE: !! ALTERNATE ENDING. !!

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

i. the bud blooms

At the ripe age of 12 you were sent away with your mother after a preceding divorce bought with complexities and the drop of niceties. This, however, was your chance at a fresh start or whatever your mother bullshited about when you knew you'd nonetheless be a burden to her.

Maybe she was prepping you to put up with her never coming home nor checking up on you as time passed. With no real restrictions you spent your time outside after school and by the field of daffodils you found after a hike up the crest of a low hill.

A google search on the then simplistic site displayed that daffodils symbolise new beginnings, quite accurate given your situation. Much hadn't changed now as only the site was cleaned up to look mod and appealing but the information remained.

On the sole field you met a boy. Dark hair brooding his lowered eyes, and he wore nothing but a tiresome look on his face. He stepped forward and scrunched his nose in annoyance at the sight of you, an intruder to his scarce peace. "ugh, whatever, just stay on that side of the field and don't disturb me," With no one to tell you when to not bother someone, you did exactly that, eventually getting him to gleam a boyish smile at you.

Just like the search engine viewing your answer, that boy, jay, seemed to have an answer for almost everything. Smart and logical, would always rationalise with himself and was punctual with his timings at the gripping age of 13. Not once had he been late when you’d inquire to meet him the very next day, finding him at his usual spot, grimacing at the withered flowers. His punctuality and love for flowers (?) scared you, either he was messed up in the head or he'd been expected to act like an adult for the majority of his life, to live up to his parents expectations.

He wandered to these fields for his lonesome mind to sing to some melody of a song you didn't know, caressing the petals of the varied and wilting flowers. You accompanied him with a sketchbook in hand, your hands at work, your ears to his humming and occasional tunes with no comments or interruptions. You had not a thread attached with his absolute, practical life, and that's what he grew to enjoy as he sang you sweet songs and admired the minimalist beauty of flowers for hours together before he vanished back the trail he hiked up.

A decade long later, he stood the same punctual, intellectual, stellar citizen as his facial features matured and took a dark yet captivating bloom while he sobered from a teen to a young adult. Now the heir of his grandfather's company, he revelled in the success of his grandfather's business. To say he grew would be an understatement, rarely ever flashing you that lovable boyish grin, never to sing his silly little tunes in front of you again.

You weren't one to pry, years into your first ever relationship with your first love and beyond afraid to lose your loose yet stitched in place frail, threaded red heart the two of you share. The photobook stared upon you, urging you to reminisce about your uneventful past filled with mostly jay. The current times didn't get any exciting either, you painted and attended exhibitions, the usual smile carried on your peach tinted lips at the guests and those interested in buying your pieces.

Contrary to this, jay barely made it home, cooped up in his office all day everyday, allowing himself to come home merely upon completing his work. You didn't mind really, the two of you went out, spoke to each other often, and were happy. This while around, he had been distant for a week or two, his longest record of shutting you out till date. You figured he was exhausted mentally and gave him the space though you wished to circle in his arms and breath wistfully.

You veered your attention to the pages and stopped on one of jay, sat beneath the tree near your old, broken, rundown house, looking into the farther distance, admiring the view, and so were you at the time, etching each feature of his delicately put together face, ingraining it in your mind, taking out your then new but now ancient camera to capture the spectacle.

You grin at the photo stuck, your orbs drifting to the messy lyrics he'd written in english to match the mood of the moment, this particular one that of your favourite song till date, one that he used to sing you to sleep.

"what are you looking so fondly at," uttered jay whose presence you failed to recognise in the room, his exasperated expression making you almost coo at him. You patted on the bedding beside as he followed, crossing your painting that you'd left to dry for hours ere.

"our photo book," you replied gaily, surprised to see him speaking to you after weeks, instinctively reaching for his cheek and staring into his eyes to find the very night sky in them, to find them gleaming right at you, the type stars would beam before they went out. A mesmerising yet sad beauty.

His gaze flickered from your soulful eyes and he glued his sights to the photo and hummed in agreement, "i guess i've always looked this good," he finished the tire in his vocals evident with a slight snicker. You shifted closer to him on the bedding which you wrinkled in the process, "you always have," you completed, pulling him closer by the hand that cupped his cheek.

You drawled yourself up to his level, running your thumb back and forth on his soft skin while your other hand ran through his soft hair, watching as he watched you with this solemn look you couldn't put a finger on. You smiled wider and hovered your lips over his as you ultimately gave in to his alluring presence and pressed your soft lips to his in a desperate yet sweet manner.

He hummed from bewilderment and slinged an arm around your waist, inching the distance closer than possible, tilting his head further and into you as he danced with your lips. You pulled away and gasped, blinking as bliss hit you, wondering if it could get any better than this? You drew away and slotted your lips on his again, covering his frantic yet slow lips, kissing him passionately, emptying out your heartfelt sentiments in the shared motion.

You climbed off and undid his tie and the first button of his dress shirt and told him to wash up, getting to your feet, fetching him comfortable clothes and a glass of water to drink. He changed into them after washing up and sat back down on the mattress, back pressed to the headboard, the glass coming in contact with his lips that stained yours not long ago.

He glugged the cool water down his throat and set the now empty glass on the bedside table, your hand ruffling his hair as he yearned for your lips to confirm his doubt, tugging down and setting his lips against yours to feel the emotion again as you relaxed into his warm touch after a long day.

He separated the connection as a string of saliva drew apart and suspended, a sigh of what you thought was content from jay as he flopped to the soft matting underneath him. A pit settled in his stomach and he felt guilt. He chose to ignore the feeling and set his eyes to a close.

You joined him, clinging onto him, kicking on the blanket to yourself and snuggling into his shoulder with a grin. Jay forcefully shut his eyes with a wince he hoped you'd miss it and placed his hand on your waist. Jay pretended to sleep as you hiked up on your elbow, leaning to press a peck to his forehead and mutter, "i love you."

Truth be told, jay sighed out of worry than content.

ii. blossom

You gotten used to the sight of jays absence when you awoke from your prolonged slumber, even the days you rose as early as 8, he’d be out the door, bidding you goodbye as he tucked in the loop of tie and tighten it around the collar, patting you on the head before bolting out the door and zooming off in his vehicle.

He’s been distant but never avoiding, and that's what you felt like he was doing this time; avoiding. As painful as it was to accept the fact that he had been avoiding you for the past week was hurtful. Yes, he was out and at work, he hadn’t stepped foot in the house since a week, nor would he receive your calls, excusing himself through text messages shorter than 5 words.

Time you made him show up yourself.

You spent almost the entire day prepping your setting, going as far as decorating and cooking something you saw online which ended up pretty decent. Now, all you needed was to lure jay like a wasp to light. You picked up your cell, dialling his number, your throat feeling rather scruffy as you coughed on the ringing line to soothe the uncomfortable sensation.

“did i work too hard for this, i feel my throat closing up,” you mumble, waiting for the line to connect, the mere automated voice blaring through your ear canal causing you to hang up and opt to text him. “come home, its an emergency,”

Not the best, but surely it’d do the trick, and in an hour's time, jay showed up, panting as he bolted the door open, “where's the fire!” he shouted, standing in the common room, across your resting figure on the couch. You yelped and got to your feet, rushing over and placing both hands over your heart, “here.”

His expression morphed from his initial shock to confusion and to anger. He should've seen it coming as it was February the 14th, Valentine's day. Discarding the tie to his fist, he stared you down with menacing eyes, making you gulp down the present discomfort in your throat, your fearful yet expectant orbs gazing into his raged one.

“i’m really trying to control myself,” “good, we haven’t even started,”

With his tongue poking the side of his cheek from annoyance, you led him to the backyard where a table was set from your preparation and he seemed surprised at the notion, and his mouth slitted open as you hauled the piping hot dish towards the meagre wobbling metal table that withheld the dishes well, allowing you to take a seat opposite of jay.

The look in his eyes was penetrating, feeling your throat close in more as you coughed uncontrollably prompting him to hand you a glass of water, glued to his seat as he observed you heave up and down before the hectic coughing subsided and you felt the air reach your nostril and travel without a hitch to your lungs.

“sorry, i, uh, made us dinner,” you conveyed, forcing a wide smile while overlooking your fit of spontaneous fits of coughing, “i can see that,” he responded sternly, beginning to serve the food onto both plates, his eyes not letting up the cold act for a millisecond, like he almost meant it.

You picked at your food, staring at him eat wordlessly, the irritation in your throat causing you to gag and wince every now and then before you mustered to pierce through the tension filled atmosphere, “did i do something wrong?” The resounding clang of the utensil to the plate made you straighten your back, “no, i’m just upset over the fact you had to lie to get me here,” he paused, drifting off into a daze, “i haven’t come home in a while, i know,”

He shifted away from your constraint, locking eyes with his meal and eating the plate clean, “you’ve gotten better at cooking,” he commented, shutting his eyelids and leaning back on the cold metal of the chair, waiting for you finish your respective meal, making you swallow down the larger chunks in haste. You stood to your feet, the ordeal leaving a metallic taste in your mouth. The chair scraped back, you collected the dishes and placed them in the sink, the unsettling pit in your stomach only digging deeper with the irking sensation in the back of your throat growing ratched.

You went to bed with a heavy heart, his back facing yours as he wordlessly drifted to slumber, leaving you to your consuming thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, he really was exhausted. You shouldn't have been so disapproving of him for his mental absence.

Either way, your plan was an absolute failure.

The sun rose inevitably and jay arose to his right, feet planted on the rugged flooring, remaining sat on the bedding, heaving a loud sigh. He peered over his back to sneak a peek at your asleep state. The way your eyes were clamped shut and your brows furrowed with a strong pout spoke enough of your nightmare and jay exhaled into his palms away from you.

He'd hate to break your heart but he'd hate to lead you on even more. He couldn't bring himself to feel the same anymore, his emotionality drained and his sentiments aside, he felt guilt to have wronged you. He felt like a shitty person every morning to face your innocent stature suffocating him in wallow. So, every morning, he left before you awoke to stop the aching in his wilting heart.

The dip in the mattress rises as he does, stepping disheartedly to the bathroom to start his mundane routine. The shower head shoots water as his hair dampens, his sole salty tears mixing with the overhead resource, tears drowning in silence. You stir awake with your throat suffocatingly sore to the point where swallowing water was excruciatingly painful.

The small clock on the bed side table ticked with faint clicks, the hour handle clocked at 7 with the longer needle on 40 as the splinter-like needle spun periodically. You coughed, finding it hard to breathe, the itching sensation increasing as you felt something will up your throat, your hand bracing your mouth in a clasp.

Mustering out the strange discomfort inducing object, you coughed out a petite, white petal, accompanied with a sized spot of blood painting its own canvas— your palm, per se. Observing the viscous liquid the upside length of your hand, you begin to feel nauseous, ripping the blanket off you and grasping your neck from pain.

You separated the petal from the splash or crimson, clutching it in your free hand as jay made his way over to you, draped in a bathrobe, ushering your tained palm inspect. He grimaced at the sight of blood staining your palm, his thumb instinctively finding your cheek rubbing it of what he attempted to seem affectionate.

Tears pricking your orbs, you urged forward and wrapped your arms around him merely to be held away from his hold with a jerk, making you gape clueless. "it'll stain," he reminded, though he'd pushed you for other reasons he couldn't have the guts to come clean too.

Wiping your eyes dry, you stepped away from him and washed away the substance while jay suited up for work. You left the premise and returned to where jay buttoned his shirt hastily. You strode up to him and finally found yourself in his hesitant hold, peering up to him with glossy eyes.

He sighed into your face, his arms tightening around you as you hiked to his eye level in your tiptoes to press a peck to his lips. You approached forward and pecked his lips, to confirm your growing doubt. You readjusted to kiss him, parting your mouth only for him to pull you back once again with another excuse.

"you haven't brushed your teeth yet," he delivered with a soft tone, running his hand down your bed hair. It stung. Not just your throat, your heart, years ago into your relationship you'd made out plenty of times with a nasty breath and none of you seemed to mind. He really was making… excuses.

The flowers, the blood—him avoiding you, your fleeting touch— most importantly, he began to ignore your feelings for him.

Jay was falling out of love with you.

iii. grow thorns

Desperate. That's what you felt coursing through your veins as you curled into a ball on the carpeted floor in the empty residence, jay long gone on a business trip to wherever. Upon your gruesome piecing together, you felt despair and spent most of your time wallowing in streams of tears.

It was March and you laid sick in bed, occasionally leaving to fulfil your regular duties as a human while completely neglecting physical activity and socialising, not like you were good at either but this case was extreme. The same boy you felt deeply connected to, the boy who made you understand what love felt like, the boy who showed you true love—which your parents always failed to accommodate— was also the boy who'd crumble your fragile beating soul to rubble.

Your first petals you coughed were once pea size petals that gradually turned into full fledged, grown petals, heaving up your trachea, branches growing in your lungs making it all the much harder for you to breathe. In arounv a week's time, was your anniversary with jay. It'd be foolish to think he'd just take you back like that after the answer of unrequited love stood from your lungs.

Perhaps if he broke your heart a second time, you would be convinced and mercilessly succumb to the inevitable.

You kept the petals you threw to a side, setting up a fresh canvas and painting a blank later for white onto it. Unsure of what to paint, you stood contemplating what you were even doing in the first place but the thought of gifting it to him seemed motivating and so you began.

Strokes of wet paint slapped onto the once pearly white canvas, skilledly sketching with your brush the outline of your objects, filling in the remnants of white into the backdrop of the portrait. It wasn't over till it was, eventually over. The faint lines of your boyfriend became clear and so had your mind. You knew what your next change of plan would be.

Jay returned around two weeks later and by then your health had declined and the loneliness merely increased. Hesitant to speak to you, you took the hint and mainted your distance as well, only interacting when needed as he used the spare bedroom to rest. Indeed,.t hurt to think that he found it hard to even sleep next to you but you weren't going to take it till he uttered the words himself.

Then came your anniversary. The two of you had been great friends for four years and then dated for four and you'd like to say that you both were still going strong, though your current situation said all but that. You requested jay to help in making dinner for the while none of you spoke a word of the day's occasion.

You were at work chopping the vegetables as jay readied the base, sprinkling some spices and checking the flavouring every now and then all without saying a word to you. Your eyes travelled from the steaming stew to where he placed the spoon between his lips, a furrow creasing on his face, tongue clicking.

"salt," he mumbled, eyes drifting from around where he situated, then shifting to around you. The salt was placed beside the chopping board, and that meant it was across you, an arm's distance. Without much thought, he stepped closer to you and reached for the salt, his arm brushing past your waist, causing him to tense, his orbs darting to yours.

You solemnly watched his eyes grow from hesitate to panic to worry. Worry, however, caught you off guard? His hand remained on the salt bottle, arm still at your waist. "you've gotten thin," he mustered, peering down at you. Your lips parted and cursed yourself for the water gathering in your tear glands.

You shifted to face him and your fists collided with the material of his shirt, clutching it in your grasp while you looked to your feet to collect your thoughts. Jay watched with no thoughts, bewildered at your shaken state. Just in time, your throat began to cave in.

You showed him your back, heaving up and down, the petals trailing up your throat and hitting your palm. You smacked your chest uncomfortably to stop the tractions to not let him suspect anything was out of order.

"you okay?" he queried, feeling the thumps of his feet getting closer to you, panicking as you collected blood and petals into your hand, the fear of him peeking it at your new high. He reached to your position and you scurried off in a haste towards the washroom. Passing by your jar of petals, you dropped them into the pot in a hurry as jay caught up to you.

Drowning the crimson in the sink you ran water on your hands, cutting the water supply and placing your wetted hands on the cold counter, panting. The heavy footsteps echoed and then soon were planted behind you. You gazed at his fallen front in the mirror. Why? Why did he look disheartened? Did he feel something for you after all?

He panned you around, caging you to the marbled counter, sealing in his arms with your chest by his, solely daring to search for any love in his eyes. Yanking the sleeve of your sweatshirt laid a spot of crimson from the viscous liquid. You mentally winced and set your sights away from him.

His finger glided to your chin and brought you towards his front, his palm resting on your cheek, "you're not okay, are you darling," he conveyed as your heart grumbled at the endeared name, a stray tear threatening to stain your cheek. "i've been unwell,"

The silence dawned on the two of you as he buried his hand in your hair, tugging down on it to tilt your head up, and his finger parting your nimble lips, the salty taste lingering in his mouth as he pressed down, and gave you a kiss. Under any circumstance than this, you'd relish the feeling but you felt sick with your throat itching.

Nonetheless, you played into his act of affection, gripping him further as his neck dipped to reach further in your cavern. Taking in what'd be the last time you'd ever meet his lips with such fever you attempted to feel the texture of his moist lips diving in and out. the pop sound loud and clear as you pulled him off of you. He settled his hand by your ear, his thumb giving you a false sense of security as he rested his forehead against yours.

"shall we get married?"

The falter in his facials was apparent and you felt your heart fall to your stomach. "marriage? what are you talking about, we're only 21," he missed, trying to play it cool.

"you know I love you right?" you did love him, you weren't lying but he didn't and you wouldn't let go of him till he said those harsh words himself.

His lack of reply set you off and you changed your blank face to that of despair, " you don't love me?"

"i…"

You shoved him away, crinkling your eyes in downward crescents as tears peaked from your eyes, playing at his heart strings. You felt the similar aggression of anger pile in him as he rushed his breathing, brows furrowing deep and the same mouth you kissed parted to utter icy words..

"do you know how it feels to date the one you've known and cared for since you were child?! not once have I ever hurt you nor done anything to hurt and i never will but I can’t sleep at night looking at your unaware face that i settled to for work. It’d break my heart to break your’s but i can’t let up with this without feeling guilty for leading you on when i cannot bring myself to feel those sentiments of love— i just don’t love you like before! "

Though you knew it was coming, the actuality hurt so much more. The lines of him declining your love for him played repeatedly. Jay left the room and the house, slamming the front door to possibly never return again. You sobbed even harder than before, falling to the floor urging the feeling to succumb to die as you coughed up amounts of blood and petals onto the floor in shambles.

iv. wither

April came as fast as March left with Jay slamming the door, never to return under any circumstance. You strongly believed he began living at his office unless one friend allowed him to stay over for an extended period of time. You, however, hadn't had any luck with getting better, accepting you would die soon.

Mustering any strength you conjured to get out of bed, meeting the carpeted floor where you'd spend hours staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. You were going to go down like this, despite your dreams and aspirations, this was how'd you succumb to death.

The sole motivation to sit by your canvas, that slowly came to picture, was the haunted expression in his front you could imagine ever so vividly. You meagre around the house to get your jar of thrown up petals, stained scarlet, quite a nice piece of decor to the vicinity though it'd be too bad that you'd be gone to not see it as one.

Frailly reaching for one petal, then another, you stuck them in carefully, the internal shaking refusing to seize as your breath turned shallow, leaving you gasping for air, overexerting yourself in finishing the piece.

On the once pearly white canvas sat a portrait of jay through the lens of your antique camera where you stood a trail of your petals and blood mixed onto the canvas, increasing as they led to your situation behind the camera just like your dying self behind the canvas.

Finishing the painting, you felt the hot breath hit your tired out hands and brittle paint dipped fingers— the same fingers Jay would kiss to you sleep, ticking you into bed if you ran a fever— were also the ones that gripped to the head rest, giving to the growing tiredness that overcame you, turning to lie flat on your back.

The keys jingled in the near distance, jay slipping in through the door, watching as nothing had really moved around in the house. He contemplated on notifying you of his abrupt appearance, opting to slowly creep up the stairs. Unknown to you, you had started coughing again, the strength in your arms to cover your mouth non-existent.

Resulting in the blood coating you and the mattress in a painful fit of red as you sobbed heartbroken to yourself wondering where it went wrong, did he require more space, had you been more mindful would he still be at your side.

Jay stilled on hearing your heart wrenching sobs, the previous hesitance gone as he ran up the stairs and to your situation on the bed stained bed. Having forgotten about your coughing fit of blood through the apparent stress from the separation.

His sight fell to the canvas in front of him greeting as you cough seized, your eyelids lugging over your glassed over orbs, jay getting to knees as he saw you covered in blood, his hand finding your paint ridden hand. You gave a weak chuckle, "if we ever meet again, I hope it works out then," you say, the diamonds leaving the comfort of your eyes and onto your crimson imposed self.

Jay heaved from panic, "why didn't you tell me?!" He hurried exclaimed, his hand running down your arm to keep your burning vessel even warmer. Unbeknownst to him he'd been crying and you watched with low eyes close to shutting, your palm lifting up to his tear stricken cheek, "just know," you paused, shutting your eyes completely feeling the life get sucked out of your body.

"i loved you."

alternate ending. (1.6k)

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lostfirefly · 4 months

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Masterlist

(just not to lose my stories on the page)

Pretending to be a writer :)

One Piece (Buggy, because I love that silly clown so much)

Buggy x Reader

• Heart of Courage

You and Buggy are being held hostage by pirates (based on my dream)

• Make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe

You're a cook on the Buggy Pirates crew. During the year you have feelings for the captain, but you don't dare to say it, but you write about your feelings in poems. One day he finds your notebook (based on my personal poem)

• If you wake up in your bed, alone in the dark, I'm sorry I gotta leave you before you love me

You're the owner of a bar where one evening a blue-haired pirate comes and you both play a drinking game. Just a random shitty shit :)

• Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

• Thank you, driver, for getting me here, you'll be an inspector, have no fear, I don't want to cause no fuss, but can I buy your Magic Bus?

You and your sister are taking the bull to the farm. You board the only bus that can transport bulls, the driver of which is Buggy. Just a random shitty shit again :)

• Can't find my peace and quiet, some things are better left in silence

You were tormented by nightmares, you came to Buggy's bed.

• Make my coffee sweet and warm, just the way you used to lie in my arms (nsfw!)

You were sitting in a coffee shop for work. The barista was Buggy.

• I need you here till the very end, so stay here with me

Buggy had a hard day. You comb his hair and wash off his makeup. Fluffy shitty shit.

• I will lay it at your feet, and I won't hold back anything, 'cause what you are is all, what you are is all of me

You haven't seen Buggy for several days, he's throwing you a candlelit dinner. Fluffy fluff!

• Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours

You throw knives together with Cabaji. Buggy joins you.

• If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

• Now hush little baby, don't you cry, everything's gonna be alright

You and Buggy have a little daughter. The ship is moored, and you go to rest, leaving Buggy with the child.

Buggy x Catherine (OC from You've Got the Same Dream as Me series)

(AU: No ships, no marines, Buggy lives in Cairo and runs a circus, periodically goes in search of gold with his girlfriend)

• You've Got the Same Dream as Me

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 (the final)

Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. (based on my dream with Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill, but they have been replaced). Main characters: Sir Crocodile x OC, Buggy x OC. The Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes.

• Life Must Have It's Mysteries

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (nsfw part is included), Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12 (the epilogue)

Cathie-pie and Buggy are going to their new adventure to find the blue diamond.

• You are what my sins enclosed, lust as not as creative as its discovery (nsfw!)

Buggy and Catherine live happily together in Cairo and they return home from the walk. Catherine made one mistake :)

• With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (nsfw!)

Buggy and Catherine were spending their evening at a bar. He was busy all week with his circus, so they hardly saw each other (yes, this happens too). A simple game leads to their first fight.

• 'Cause honey your soul can never grow old, it's evergreen, baby your smile's forever in my mind and memory

Catherine's birthday. Buggy wants to give her a fun day.

• Let's stay together lovin' you whether, whether times are good or bad, happy or sad

Buggy had a rough day, he came home upset and got a share of comfort from his Cathie-pie :)

• Tell me what you want to hear, something that will light those ears

I'm sick of all the insincere, so I'm gonna give all my secrets away

Catherine came back home and found Buggy lying on the couch with the headphones.

• If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see, I'll be the light to guide you

Buggy and Catherine have been living together for about a month one and a half to two months. Catherine sees him without his clown makeup for the first time (for a completely stupid reason, because these two couldn’t have it any other way)

• Cooking in the kitchen now that's what we do, there's something cooking in the kitchen just for you

Cathie-pie is making breakfast for her beloved clown.

• What do you do? What do you do in the bath? (NSFW part is included)

Buggy came home from a short tour. He and Catherine are taking a bath. Something gets out of control :)

Sir Crocodile x OC

• Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine (a bday present for my @yujo-nishimura)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 (The Finale, NSFW part is included)

Yujo is a young girl whom her father has betrothed to Mr. 3. She and her sister come to the ball, where she meets one of the members of the Cross Guild Corporation Sir Crocodile.

#`oc fanfiction #long fanfic #one peice #opla buggy the clown x you #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x oc #buggy fanfiction #sir crocodile x oc #opla buggy x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown #one piece au

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meowza315 · 1 month

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hi I'm anon who loved your au mike! whoopsie my memory must be bad i thought they were like 21 (maybe I mixed it up as 19-21 not 16-19) and because in the movies they're adults going in so i assumed lol! and im 17 anyway so i forgot as anon that could seem weird. byler being attractive or in love physically isn't weird though i think it's healthy to just say it's not what you like, as a teen it's nice to figure out what i like and be comfortable navigating it not grossed out. but not to worry as the artist it's fair not to want that and not what I meant for this au with what I said anyway! he's just a good looking silly guy 😎 like that little doodle of will sizzling on the floor on my last ask shows his love for sure LOL so so cute. their love language being touch is also very sweet and comes across in your art and suits the au, it's a nice thought! thnks for this au!

hello again!!

no worries, things happen 😭 they are in fact 16 when the story starts and by the time it ends three years passed (it’s 2.5 I did the math wrong) due to Mike’s extensive training period and the time between their confession and Mike transferring his consciousness to his avatar permanently. Together it’s 3 years but broken down his training took 18 months, the time from the end of training to tsaheylu was a year, and another month or two between that and the end of the story with a few days or weeks sprinkled in between in certain areas I can’t remember but. yeah 3 years? 2.5? Something like that.

With how they’re aged, they’re both essentially 16 1/2 which is why they’re 19, cause after the year and a half of struggle before their confession they both had turned 18 at that point and then the year after that blah blah blah you get the point. anyways.

I myself am 16 (birthday was a little under a week ago writing this) !!! I don’t think it’s weird that they’re attractive or love each other physically (I’ve said on insta a few times how they’re pretty or handsome etc etc), however it’s still not in the sexual sense. I probably took something and interpreted it wrong or something idk, I’m a very anxious person especially when it comes to the gayliens cause of all the aspects mashed together with how they don’t wear a lot and are 18 by the time they confess to one another. theres a lot of people in the byler fandom that are a bit.. wacky.. I guess I could say. so. yeah ❤️

and yeah as the creator of the AU and more than 75% of the artwork from it (as well as still being a minor) I don’t want anything weird coming from it or any people that are gonna take stuff from it and run, if you get what I mean by that. like not trying to see basic information I’ve come up with because I’ve shoved so much lore and story and detail into it. For the love of god I give their accessories and songcord beads meaning. Literally nobody cares about that but I DO!! I CARE!! I care about the little details!

and back to love language !! them having that love language of touch is going to end up stemming from having at least some attraction to each other physically. its a small detail but anxiety still makes me worry about it sometimes, especially in some parts of the storyline like tsaheylu. But even before then, in their confession, after they tell each other, it’s an intimate moment between them. they kiss, they hold each other close. Mike literally ends up on the ground at one point from pulling Will so close (doodles below). They finally both got what they want, each other. it’s still evident then. but even as the story continues and gets to the point of tsaheylu it’s more noticeable? I guess?

There’s literally a reference to the original scene in Avatar (tree of voices scene w/ Jake and Neytiri) that of course, inspired me to make the AU in the first place. However, they’re only small aspects from the scene that I pulled from it instead of it being exactly the same. we all know what happens there. besides them bonding. cough. yeah no that’s not canon in this AU thank god. but anyways, they bond and sigh contentedly and have this moment together. it’s a new experience and probably weird for both of them because they aren’t bonding with an Ikran or direhorse this time, it’s each other now (also I know my avatar lore and how bonding is technically erotic and done during mating but no. not today). They bond, kiss a few times before Mike picks up Will like Jake does to Neytiri, and after a bit they go to bed. literally nothing else (another unfinished visual below).

they’re silly guys and I’m glad people enjoy the AU as much as I do!! instances like this allow me to infodump about stuff and honestly I’m here for it. I just hope no one comes into my asks and says something really weird. I don’t want those weird ass “spicy bylers” on my page. but other than that i love when people ask stuff about the au, it makes me happy!! :) im welcome to explain more stuff for fun or if you’re interested cause it gives me more opportunities to rant haha

#byler #byler au #byler avatar au #byler fanart #avatar au #stranger things #stranger things au #mike wheeler #will byers #meowzart315 #cw partial nudity

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kjmsupremacist · 1 year

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something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he's off limits, and not just because Mark's niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark's 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark's like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 1 | next mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol mentions, poor decision making perhaps

Rating: Teen And Up (for this chapter)

Length: 3.1k

mandatory disclaimer: I'm not trying to romanticize or condone real-life age gap relationships because of the inherent power imbalance, blah blah, I'm writing this for fun and if you don't think you'll have fun go ahead and leave now, etc.

Mark drums his fingers against the cold metal pole as the bus lurches to a stop. He checks the time on his phone—5:25 p.m. He should just make it, unless this prehistoric bus takes any longer to open its doors.

After what he swears is a full minute of ominous creaking, Mark steps out into the muggy air. It’s still only the beginning of June, but already this summer seems like it’s going to be absolutely scorching. Mark supposes he’ll be doing a lot of swimming.

He crosses the street and heads up the sidewalk to the cluster of buildings beyond a small, uneven parking lot, squinting to make out the sign. Little Hands Musical Academy. It’s smaller than he imagined, somehow, but kind of quaint.

A receptionist greets him when he enters the lobby. Though the outside of the building is a bit understated, the inside is clean and bright. Mark says hello back to the receptionist, looking around as he steps up to the counter.

“Uh, I’m here for Lucy Lee?” he says tentatively. “I’m Mark Lee, I’m her uncle. My brother said he put me on the, um, the list?”

The receptionist nods with a smile, typing something in and then looks up. “Could I just see some ID please?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, one sec,” Mark stutters, fumbling for his wallet. He hands the receptionist his passport, feeling a little silly as she leafs through to the right page.

It’s all a little silly, really—that Mark is even picking Lucy up in the first place. He can’t drive, which is mostly fine since James’ house isn’t that far, only like ten minutes on the bus and a few blocks of walking, but Mark thinks if James and Annie are that worried about safety, having an irresponsible, driver’s licenseless twenty-year-old come fetch their only child is hardly helpful.

Still, they asked, and they also bought Mark a new AC unit after his old one finally kicked the bucket the very first day it was over eighty degrees, so here he is. James doesn’t get off work until 5:30, which is the pickup time, and though Annie works from home and can come drop Lucy off in the afternoon, she said she’d rather get a head start on dinner in the evening. And Mark’s internship lets him go at 5. So maybe it is kinda helpful, as long as Mark doesn’t lose his three-and-a-half year old niece on public transport.

“You’re all set,” the receptionist says, handing Mark’s passport back to him. “It’s the classroom at the end of the hall. A lot of parents are already here, you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” Mark says, putting his passport away and heading out of the lobby towards the back of the building.

There are many parents gathered outside the large window that looks into the classroom from the hall. Mark sidles up next to the group and spots Lucy’s pigtails instantly. She’s plunking away on a tiny keyboard. As Mark watches, the teacher—at least, Mark assumes he’s the teacher; he’s the only adult in the room—strolls by and pauses to say something to her. Mark can’t hear anything, but when the teacher walks away, Lucy is wearing a big grin.

After a couple more minutes, the teacher opens the door and gestures for the parents to file in. Mark gets his first good look at the teacher’s face and swallows. He’s hot. He’s also definitely a little older—forget Mark, he’s visibly older than James. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking pretty, with handsome dimples appearing every time his expression leans towards a smile.

Mark is so busy staring that he ends up last in line, but it turns out to be a good thing because the teacher stops him at the door.

“Sorry, would you mind if I just checked your ID really quick?” His eyes are a warm brown, Mark’s brain notes unhelpfully. “I’m sure you already got cleared by the front desk, but—I just like to make sure, you know?”

“Oh, totally, no problem,” Mark says, once again struggling to extract his wallet.

“Come with me, I have the list over here,” the teacher says, waving Mark into the classroom.

“Mark-samchon!” Lucy zeroes in on him right away and totters over, pigtails flouncing with each step. “I played the piano today.”

“I saw,” Mark says, grinning at her. “Hang on, your teacher just needs to check that I really am your uncle and not a bad guy, and your Appa really did say it was okay for me to pick you up.”

“But he really is my uncle, Jaehyun-seonsaengnim,” Lucy says to her teacher.

Jaehyun, apparently, has produced his list. He gives Lucy an amused smile. “I think I’ll be the judge of that,” he replies. “Can’t let my students walk out with just anybody. Thank you,” he adds to Mark, accepting the offered passport. After a second, he hands it back. “All set,” he says. “Sorry again about the trouble, it’s nothing personal.”

“No worries!” Mark says swiftly, filing his passport away and pocketing his wallet again. “It’s cool that you’re looking out for them.”

Jaehyun gives him a somewhat wry smile, nodding. “I try,” he replies. “Well, see you in a couple days, Lucy! We’re doing percussion next time, you don’t wanna miss it.”

“I like the shaky ones,” Lucy tells Mark very seriously.

Mark’s pretty sure she means stuff like maracas. “Yeah, those are pretty neat, huh?” He holds out his hand to her and she takes it. “Thanks—ah, Jaehyun-seonsaengnim, right?” Mark’s never sure about honorifics in a mixed setting like this—they’re mostly speaking in English, and they are in America, but the area they’re in is really Korean, so he just goes for the way Lucy called him and hopes Jaehyun will correct him.

He’s right. Jaehyun’s smile turns warmer. “Just Jaehyun is fine,” he says. “It was nice to meet you, Mark.”

Mark’s stomach flops. “You too,” he replies, then hurries out of the classroom before he does something stupid like trying to flirt in front of his niece.

Mark lets Lucy chatter about class as he walks them down to the bus stop. He wants to be paying closer attention to what she’s saying, but his mind keeps drifting back to her handsome music teacher. Jaehyun. It’s not like he needed a reason to do his brother a favor—and besides, Lucy’s reason enough—but it sure as hell doesn’t hurt.

They get home in one piece. James stops working to play with Lucy and Annie tells Mark to stay for dinner. Mark’ll take a good, free meal with his family over a shitty expensive one alone in his apartment any day, so he stays and helps with the dishes, too. They send him off with leftovers, and Mark can hear Lucy’s laughter all the way down the street as he skips backwards, waving at her until the front porch of his brother’s house disappears behind a line of trees.

He sighs, slowing to a walk as he turns to face forward, dropping his hand to his side. In some ways, he wishes he was like his brother. Found his person early, finished school, got a good job, settled right down and started having kids. A life that’s small and perfect, full of little excitements and little joys.

But Mark’s not like that. He readjusts his grip on the leftovers, leaving thoughts of his family behind him as he focuses his attention on tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that. He’ll have the time for excitement later. He can settle down when he’s satisfied. For now, his life has to remain boring—busy, and boring.

And from the looks of it, that’s how his summer’s shaping up to be. Busy and boring. And honestly? Mark doesn’t mind that one bit.

///

“Damn,” Johnny says as he pulls into a parking spot. “Didn’t know you had a thing for DILFs.”

“Wha—dude, no, he’s not a—a DILF,” Mark splutters, already regretting telling Johnny anything. “He doesn’t have kids.”

“How do you know?” Johnny arches an eyebrow at him as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“It came up once,” Mark says. “I didn’t ask! He was saying it’s nice his job is to hang out with kids, basically, because kids are fun and he doesn’t have any of his own.”

“Hasn’t it only been a couple weeks since you started going to pick Lucy up?” Johnny throws this over his shoulder before getting out of his car. Mark hurries to get out, too, so he can argue.

“Lucy has lessons twice a week,” Mark says. “So I’ve seen him three times, which is more than enough times to clock if someone’s hot or not. Woulda been four, except my fucking boss made me stay late on Thursday.”

“I’m telling you, man, unpaid internships are straight up bullshit,” Johnny says.

“If I could’ve gotten a paid one, d’you think I wouldn’t’ve gone for it?” Mark retorts, grabbing his guitar from the back and slinging the strap of the case over his shoulder. “If this shit doesn’t get me a good job after graduation, I’m suing the entire career counseling office.”

“I got a good job after graduation and I didn’t have a single internship,” Johnny points out. “You’ll be fine. Unless you let this hot children’s music teacher distract you.”

Mark shoves him once they’re through the mall entrance. “I just like to look at him, that’s all. Though, I mean—I wouldn’t say no, is all I’m saying.”

“Yeah. He’s how old?” Johnny asks.

“Shut up,” Mark grumbles.

Though they’re technically here to get Mark’s guitar looked at—one of the strings fucking snapped, he doesn’t know how—they meander through the mall on the way to the music store. Johnny ends up buying a couple of pieces of clothing and nearly convinces Mark to get a matching hat with him before Mark remembers, woefully, that he isn’t getting paid and truly doesn’t have the money to spare.

They finally get to the music store and Mark hands his guitar over, then follows Johnny away from the counter while they wait for it to be fixed up, poking through their record collection.

“Mark?” The voice is familiar, and Mark whips his head up to see Jaehyun of all people standing a few feet inside the door. He’s not in his usual casual clothes; instead, he’s dressed in smart business casual, a patterned button-down tucked into cropped pants.

Mark swallows, trying to put a single sentence together instead of staring at his waist. “Jaehyun,” he manages. “What are you doing here?” It comes out way ruder than he means it, but luckily Jaehyun just smiles.

“I own this store,” he says, tipping his head to one side and looking around at all the instruments hanging on the walls. “I founded this brand, actually.”

“Really?” Mark would’ve never pinned Jaehyun as a businessman of any kind, but here’s the proof—one of the employees at the store has come up to Jaehyun with his hand extended.

Jaehyun greets the employee, accepting the handshake. “I’ll come back in a minute,” he says, then turns back to Mark. “I wish teaching music class for kids paid the bills, but, ah…” He gestures vaguely. “Speaking of which, I missed you in the pickup line on Thursday. Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” Mark silences the part of his brain that immediately starts trying to make a pun about pickup lines. He can feel a flush rising up his neck, both pleased and embarrassed that Jaehyun noticed he wasn’t there. “My internship just kept me late is all.”

“Hope they don’t keep you too often,” Jaehyun says, and Mark absolutely does not know how to take that. “Lucy looked kinda put out her mom was there to get her instead of you.”

“Oh,” Mark laughs, wondering why he feels kind of disappointed. “Well, that’s probably because I’ve started bringing her snacks.”

Jaehyun nods, grinning. “That’s always a good way to win them over,” he agrees. “Well, it was a welcome surprise to run into you in my store! I probably shouldn’t keep them waiting, but I’ll see you next week—I hope.”

“Y-yeah, see you!” Mark stammers, giving an awkward half wave, watching Jaehyun disappear into the back of the store.

“That was painful,” Johnny says flatly. “You don’t just think he’s hot, you like him.”

“Shut up,” Mark hisses.

“You wanna fuck your niece’s music teacher,” Johnny continues blithely. “You really wanna fuck him.”

Luckily, the employee that was servicing Mark’s guitar appears at this moment and spares Mark from coming up with an answer. Because, he thinks somewhat miserably as he heads up to the counter to pay, the thing is Johnny isn’t wrong. But, fuck, Jaehyun’s literally fucking beautiful, and good with kids, and also apparently a rich business owner. What else could Mark ask for?

“I’m just saying, dude,” Johnny continues as they head back out to the parking lot. “If you wanna fuck that old man so bad—”

“Oh my god, he’s not old, he’s like maybe in his early forties at most,” Mark interjects, grimacing in embarrassment.

“If you wanna fuck that middle-aged man so bad,” Johnny plows on, undeterred, “at least get him to fuckin’ pay you or something. You’re young and hot, don’t waste it. No homo.”

Mark resists the urge to bash Johnny over the head with his newly-repaired guitar. “Shut the fuck up.”

///

Mark can argue with Johnny all he wants, but it won’t change the fact that he’s right. He wants to fuck that old man. It’s kind of all he thinks about, outside of basic things like work and what he’s going to have for dinner—and even then, the thought of Jaehyun is still percolating in the background, waiting for whatever has grabbed his more immediate attention to be completed so it can muscle its way back to the fore.

He sees him again the next week when he picks Lucy up and it’s all Mark can do not to drag his gaze over Jaehyun’s body as he waits for the parents in front of him to grab their kids. When he goes home, he scours Instagram until he finds him—a public account, a small mercy considering the fact that he only has three posts, but still. Mark pores over the pictures, thumb hovering over the Follow button before closing out of the app altogether and opening his text chain with Johnny.

Dude I’m spiraling <;<<

>>> The dilf?

yeah <;<<

It’s bad. fuck me man <;<<

>>> uh, pass

>>> I mean maybe you’re just horny

>>> download tinder or something

And get stuck in the talking phase all summer? <;<<

Or find someone to hookup with and it’s like their first time <;<<

I’m not teaching someone how to kiss again I know I’m just some guy but I deserve better than that <;<<

>>> ok fair

>>> if it’s experience you want……… go on one of those sugar baby websites

>>> remember what I said about him paying you

>>> your internship’s getting enough of ur free labor as it is

Mark sighs, dropping his phone on his mattress and flopping back. Maybe Johnny’s right. Maybe he just needs a good fuck and he’ll be cured. And there has to be some kind of market for gay sugar daddies who are bottoms, right? Besides, God knows he could use the money.

okay im gonna do it <;<<

>>> fuck the dilf???

NO try the sugar baby thing <;<<

>>> if it works out, gimme a cut of your profits

>>> since it was my idea and all

what are you, my pimp? <;<<

I’ll take you out to a meal, how’s that <;<<

>>> deal

So Mark does exactly that. He does a little research, chooses an app, and downloads it. He sets up his profile, just some basic information about who he is and what he’s looking for. The app suggests he not upload any pictures, for privacy, and Mark’s secretly glad the pressure’s off on that one. He’s not sure if it would help or hurt, but at least this way, the playing field is level.

He could scroll profiles if he wanted to, he supposes, but he has a feeling he’s going to start eliminating people because they don’t seem like Jaehyun, and that’s not going to get him anywhere. He’ll wait and see who’s interested in him, and go from there.

He sets his phone down instead and heads into his kitchen to see about dinner. But he’s only just pulled a couple things out of the fridge when his phone gives an unfamiliar buzz. With a sigh, he puts the eggs back and goes to his phone to see a new message on the app.

>>> Hey Minhyung!

>>> Are you new to sugaring? Know what you’re looking for?

Mark scans over his profile. CEO of his own business, dog person, plays guitar. Not looking for something too serious. Income between 600k and 800k.

Hi Yuno! Yeah, this is my first time sugaring haha but I did my research <;<<

I’m hoping for something more casual. I work during the week but my weekends are usually pretty free <<<

Not expecting a lot, just hoping to have a little extra spending money <;<<

Yuno is typing before Mark even sends the final message.

>>> sounds like we might be a good fit :)

>>> do you want to talk it over in person? We could go get coffee, get to know each other, see if we’re compatible

Sure! I’m free this weekend <;<<

>>> Perfect. How’s Saturday at 3?

Mark glances at his calendar just to double-check, but as expected, it’s empty. When he looks back at his phone, he sees that this Yuno guy has sent a coffee shop in the city, not too far from Mark’s apartment.

>>> there’s this booth in the back corner I like, let’s plan to meet there

>>> if it’s occupied, we can meet at the tall tables by the windows instead

Sounds good! <;<<

See you on Saturday! <;<<

Yuno likes his message but doesn’t reply, so Mark pockets his phone and goes back to cleaning. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, pulse jumping in his neck. It’s not like he’s in danger or anything. They’re meeting in public, and Mark likes to believe he’ll be able to tell if the guy is a total creep or not. Worst case, he wastes five dollars on a coffee he’s not even going to enjoy and has to keep searching. Besides, he’s not going to be young forever. He might as well give it a shot while he still can.

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luvhrs · 2 years

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❝violets, rum, and summer❞ | aot boys x gn!reader

♪ characters: jean kirschtein, porco galliard, reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, eren jaeger ♪ prompt: what happens after your best friend asks you, "Y/N, did you meet my brother?" ♪ now playing: cate’s brother - maisie peters ♪ rating & tags: T (modern!au; fluff & light angst maybe?; mentions of college parties, sneaking around, makeout sessions, cigarettes, alcohol; basically just a secret halloween/summer/whatever season fling… or is it?)

☾ ao3 ver. + masterlist ☽

a/n: started working on this right after maisie released the song of the summer, go listen to it 😩👌 i gotta say i'm rly satisfied with these blurbs and i had a lotta fun writing them, i'm so tempted to make them full fics too but i unfortunately don't have the time or patience rn… maybe one day!! still i hope you enjoy, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💗

Of all the tricks and treats you got from that one Halloween party you threw for your friends, he has to be the sweetest of either. "Love him, he's the one and we shall wed," went your heart when your best friend first introduced you to their brother…

…Jean. You've only just known his name and he's already flirting with you. He does it right in front of your best friend too, but they just brush him off with a snort. "Don't get your hopes up. Jean's like that with everyone," they say, and they're probably right, but through the night, your eyes search the crowd for his and find them already on yours each time. With the combined burn of his stare and your liquid courage, it's not long before you're grabbing his hand in the dark and pulling him to your car. No amount of feverish kisses seem to be enough to wipe that smug grin off his dashing face, but well, you're not complaining. "Are you gonna work, you gonna hurt, you gonna last forever?" sings a voice from your car's speakers, and you pause in the face of its mockery. Jean's surprisingly gentle fingers bring you back, tilting your chin up to look at him. "Are we gonna make it, gonna break it when it's—" "Now or never," he whispers along with the song, and you're melting into each other again, along with your inhibitions.

…Porco. He seems fun and weird and smart, likes cheap cigars, can shotgun a beer like no other… Probably matches the type of guy your parents used to warn you about, but come on, what can your best friend's brother do? Sweep you off your feet in all senses of the word, you learn, when he starts coming to roller rink nights. Your best friend is excitedly showing off a move when they accidentally bump into you, making you stumble. You would've hit the floor if Porco weren't close behind you, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You know the gesture's supposed to help you regain your balance, but the heat of his touch against your skin, bare where your shirt rode up a little, and his husky chuckle and "You okay?" against your ear almost makes you feel dizzy again. He offers to show you a trick or two after that ("For revenge, duh," he says, earning him a smack on the shoulder from his sibling who overheard), and you can't resist asking, "If it's gonna hurt, will it be worth it and will I recover?" He smirks, and oh, you know he knows: a different kind of fall awaits, and you just hope he'll catch you this time too.

…Reiner. The party definitely isn't over for you because you start going on cinema dates together—or at least, he starts tagging along with you and your best friends. It's true love in 3D anyway, and it's probably silly, but your heart can't help but flutter at Reiner's sweet subtlety. With a wink, he quietly slips into the seat beside you while the others are too busy talking, and he brushes his fingers against yours in the popcorn bag when you offer to share. "Are you gonna feel the way I feel?" the lead asks their love interest onscreen before an inevitable kiss. As if you were in a movie yourself, you're strangely compelled to glance over at Reiner, and sure enough, you meet his heated gaze. Leaning in close enough to make you shiver, he whispers, "Come with me?" before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. You do after a few hopefully inconspicuous moments, and you barely make it out of the cinema and into the empty hallway when he pulls you by the waist until your body is flush against his. You giggle in between his eager kisses, and he is anything but subtle about his love this time.

…Bertholdt. You may not remember exactly who he went as at your party (your man, you probably wished), but you do remember the crisp sage suit he wore. How could you not, with how well it accentuated his features? Here you thought he couldn't be more attractive, but then he starts coming over with your best friends to your house, and suddenly, the pale green of his eyes aren't hiding behind hesitant glances anymore but lingering heat. He's 6 foot 4 and towers over you but never menacingly, whether it's daytime and he's helping you cook by reaching into high cupboards to pass ingredients over to you, or it's late at night and he's taking his sweet time trapping you against the wall of your dim kitchen because everyone else has finally gone to sleep. Bertholdt showers you with affection, taking your breath away until you can only ask dreamily, "Are you for real?" He only chuckles in response, and yet another of the shy kisses he presses to your jaw reminds you that he's a little younger than you, and oh, God, you really are smitten for your best friend's brother.

…Eren. Not an ounce of shame or regret ever lies in the clandestine glances you and Eren share—those wordless agreements to escape from prying siblings and best friends to your room. Unfortunately, it doesn't stop you from feeling lightheaded when your lips slip from his, sometime after you started making out then tripped and fell into your bed. You stare up at him for a moment, trying to catch your breath, and lick your lips absentmindedly. The movement catches his eye but out of concern more than lust, as he senses you're worrying rather than teasing. "I won't let you down or lead you on. I'm not like the others," Eren reassures you, trailing his fingers across your jaw. He was never one to let your desire flicker out, you know that, but still… "How can I know you're for sure? It's only been a summer," you reply, trying and failing to keep your voice steady. His answer comes not in words but in the rest of his kisses and touches that night, desperate not to let you go—and most importantly, the next morning when to your surprise, he's showing up at your front door, flowers in hand, politely smiling and asking your delighted mother if you're home.

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yellowsomethings · 6 months

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beans exchange letter 2023

hi its us thebeans you have been selected to secret us a santa !! this is going to be a bit of a tutorial letter so everyone else knows what exchange letters are like, so rest assured it will be as comprehensive as i can manage. remember that you do not need to fulfill All of the conditions the recipient lists, just at least one of them to the best of your ability. woo

want:

1. hermits

big fan of grian, scar, mumbo, ren, doc, bdubs, zed, joe hills, things of this nature. i think the slapfight goes here if it goes anywhere. we have seen seasons 6/7/8/9 and a little of season 5 so if you go before that we will probably be Confused but Willing To Roll With It. idk theres the wonderful world of hermits and crafting

2. lifes

you are probably well aware the extent to which we like the life series. things you could cover include property police kiss on the mouth secret life (or property police cold patrol new life which isn't getting its own entire bullet but it's a thing), treebark slash fairydog slash renb, toxic yaoi majorwood, the bad boys, last life grumbo, idk get silly with it !! slash p or slash r it is all good <- applies to all listed items in this letter not just here

3. empires

empires:). for season 1 there's flower husbands; you could do kathgempearl or some duo permutation; arenaduo; the whole wra tbh; smallidarizzie trio; scott and xornoth content (you could write the one billionth postcanon xornoth finds out what happened fic if you wanted). for season 2 HEAVENTRIO OBVIOUSLY; or arenaduo again or hallelujahduo or roundhousekickduo which i still need to come up with a better name for; best buds jim and joel; kathgem; pixlriffs; the crossover; fairytale trio i also like; maybe some olieddie as a treat if you're so inclined

4. eswap

free space basically. scottpearl !!!!!!! or arenaduo or kathgempearl again (or duo permutation) or pearl and pix bonding maybe idk what the state of eswap is gonna be pixwise by the end of november. or if some other part of eswap compels you then go for it. you might wanna write the watcher grian crossover idea that jay2 had that one time. up to u :D

5. pirates/rats

yeah babyyyyyy this is the writing to pander to littlesound zone. i love datastream martyn interacting with this-is-just-their-world other characters such as oli or sausage or olive or shelby or owen or scar or other people that don't start with the letters o and s. kisstrels obviously (including shep and shub); you could do property police with martyn and safety rat; farmer rat scott, baker rat lizzie, he had a pretty sweet bond with will. maybe mratyn watching as oli tries and fails to seduce the butler with cringefail affection in his eyes. maybe mratyn trying and failing to seduce one of the brown wild dogs at the edge of the grounds while scott looks on in disappointment. p!bek is canonically aroace so if you write pirate bekel you'd probably get Comments about it but like if you don't fear the fandom then fuck it. SPEAKING OF:

6. witchcraft

YURI OPPORTUNITY AGAIN BUT FOR BEK INSTEAD! beky's finally figured out her witchcraft bek au which is that el is a not-so-famous witchtuber and bek is one of her few very dedicated commenters so when el randomly stumbles across the supreme witch crown where scott dropped it then she ends up asking bek what to do and they bond from there, so you may wanna do something with that.

7. dsmp

if you are dsmp inclined and you want to go classic style then you cannot go wrong with a little bit of crimboy/clingy. bee/bench and michael could also be fun; i like niki, big q, JACK MANIFOLD, fundy, eret, hbomb, foolish, and i miss honq every day babyyyy <- not every day but often. if you'd like to add to the hit canon ao3 tag tommyinnit crashes own funeral (dream smp) then that would be very welcomed too, i canonised that shit with my bare hands

8. au ideas

well i said all of that for canon concepts but what if you want to write/draw an alternate universe? goooo fuckin crazy with it my friend. some concepts i enjoy reading are: royalty; urban/low fantasy; newly discovered/obtained superpowers; domestic roommates setting; famous & doesnt give a shit about that fame; creative type & muse; guardian angel & human. idk have fun!

9. not mcyt

i'm adding this section because i know some people will want to do this but mine will be quite short because i . do not watch anything else. uhhhh the magnus archives. moon knight 2022. i like quite a lot of musical theatre but mostly the modern post hamilton shit and i have not seen hadestown. thubs up

do not want

don't do scottpearl if it isn't eswap please! or any hermit pearl actually! uhhh nothing particularly viscerally gorey but it's ok if people die or get injured. this isn't a dnw but it is a specification, if you would like to trans some genders and neo some pronouns then you should feel absolutely free to go ahead love is love. i think i'm gonna make no nsfw a rule for the entire exchange so i don't need to clarify that. probably best to have minimal cleo inclusion if any. any fics which are specifically about the moment after a life series game where characters see each other and talk about what happened because those are weirdly common and we don't like it and it feels weird. no blinding, no throats slit, no being suffocated/choked. ummm ya if you arent sure whether something would be ok then go ahead and ask!

will write

this one is gonna be much shorter

hermits: bdubs cub doc gem scar grian joe pearl ren tango xb zed cleo

life series: scott ren martyn pearl joel grian scar bdubs lizzie skizz mumbo jimmy gem

empires 1: scott gem joey kath lizzie sausage pearl joel jimmy

empires 2: scott gem joey kath lizzie sausage pearl pix shelby joel jimmy oli

pirates: acho aimsey bek puffy eret scar guqqie martyn kyle sausage olive oli owen ros shelby scott el tubbo

rats: bek el jimmy lizzie martyn oli olive owen scott shelby tubbo

witchcraft: scott joey pris shelby el cleo

dsmp: eret callahan eryn bbh puffy phil niki karl sapnap george quackity foolish jack manifold hbomb fundy aimsey slime wilbur sam ranboo schlatt dream punz tommy tubbo techno dxd

misc: honestly i think if you asked me to write qsmp phil tubbo fit cellbit bagi bad foolish wilbur tallulah chayanne then i probably could at this point. but don't ask me to. also the afterlife/new life smp i will write for also

won't write

i'm sorry i can't write the copper people on empires i just have not seen them enough to. highly doubt my ability to write crastle/best/ties/similar groupings well. dear god please don't make me write the syndicate it won't be good for either of us. i will not write nature wives i can't do it to my girlo. pirates!scott ships also. if it's gonna get me cancelled then i may still be willing to write it but i will not post it on ao3, it's going straight into fools writing discussion channel when it goes live. i won't write . idk pregnancy? you probably weren't gonna ask for pregnancy. again feel free to ask :thumbsup:

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gekidasa · 8 months

Text

Fic Stats Game

Thank you for the tag, @jaimebluesq!

rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the fewest words.

1 - Most Hits: And I will stay with you / And you will keep me close (or as I call it, Sangcheng Roommates AU). I was always somewhat surprised that this fic took off like it did, since it was a threadfic that got out of control, based on a rather silly premise (what if they were ROOMMATES at the CR!! And then unknowingly started dual cultivating to the point htat NHS developed a core earlier). The first half WAS entirely written as a thread (very unwieldly!) that I then cleaned up and separated into chapters.

And then... I will forever wonder if I should have left it at that. Except that the actual point beyond the silliness was that this was actually a canon divergence which would eventually lead to things going down differently when the Wen attack LP. I never actually wanted to get into THAT part of it, but I did choose to go into what would happen when NHS came to LP in the interim between the CR and the Wen indoctrination camp. And I also decided that they would end up betrothed. But despite researching, it was only after having written a lot more that I found out about the 3 letters and 6 etiquettes, and that... changed things. So I had to decided whether to/how much to rewrite. Anyway, I got bogged down. It's been hard. Currently there is just one chapter (part of which is already written) and maybe an epilogue to go, but... it's been awhile. I somehow haven't been in the mood to write this.

But I do plan to finish out what I'd planned. I just get distracted by newer ideas that maybe better fit how my headcanons and knowledge evolve.

2 - 2nd Most Kudos: When a secret isn't really secret. And I am ALSO continually surprised by how popular this turned out to be. It's a short little Touya/Yukito fic in which they are already a thing and Yukito sleeps over, and then has an unexpected middle of the night conversation with Fujitaka (spoilers: Yuki didn't realize that Fujitaka has been well aware of how he and Touya feel about each other for a long time). The reason its popularity is surprising is that Touya is barely in it, most of it is just Yuki and Fujitaka talking... but I admit, it IS rather sweet, like CCS tends to be.

3 - 3rd Most Comments: How Jiang Wanyin avoided being blacklisted by matchmakers. My current baby of the moment! I'm having so much writing this, I call my sangcheng Betrothal AU, and it's also a fairly silly premise. It was inspired by a tweet where a guy says his parents were trying to play matchmaker, so he told them he was gay... and then they came back with a binder full of men for him to potentially date. So in this one, JC yells in the middle of a meeting with matchmakers that he doesn't want to marry any woman. He THINKS he means "right now", but YZY takes it to mean he's a cutsleeve. She has the matchmakers prepare a list of young men to potentially be the consort of Jiang-zongzhu, and he winds up betrothed to his friend NHS. This very much plays into my headcanon that JC is ace/demi (demi, in this case) and not very selfaware about his preferences. It's also a canon divergence: YZY and Yinzhu survived the massacre of LP, and JC never lost his golden core.

4 - 4th Most Bookmarks: The Half-Eaten Peach Longs to be Filled with Cream. This is just straight-up sangcheng porn. 😂

The morning that a discussion conference at Qinghe is set to start, NHS asks JC to fill him up and plug him up so he'll feel it all day. Halfway through the day, he gets a refill.

5 - 5th Most Words: Hold the doors. My one NieLan fic so far. Also porn. Modern AU, LXC has moved into a new building and has noticed his hot neighbor NMJ. One day they ride the elevator together and NMJ helps him with his groceries. And then LXC gives dage a beer and a blowjob.

Bonus - Fewest Words: The final gift. Super short (201 words) post-canon Kamen Rider Ryuki fic, about Kitaoka's fate in a timeline without the Rider War. Yes, that sentence means it's both post-canon and canon-divergence. If you know Ryuki, you understand why. It's also Kitaoka/Reiko but more about Kitaoka himself.

Tagging @angie-s-g @revesdelimonade @apocrypha73 @lostheartkix @trixietricoter @mulberrylotus

#fanfic #sangcheng #nielan #touya x yukito #tag game #kamen rider ryuki

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honklore · 3 years

Note

would you consider doing an au where dream is a high school teacher (maybe a math teacher or english teacher or something?) and he has been crushing on his colleague, maybe an english teacher or an art teacher, and his friends have been teasing him quite a bit for it since he hasn’t had the courage to ask them out, which is quite weird considering he’s usually so confident, but it’s just a lot of flirting and shyness between the two until he final caves and asks them out? maybe even some of the students had begun to call him out on not acting on it? it’s perfectly okay if you don’t wanna do this but thank you for reading it :))

you + me = <3 | dreamwastaken

(math teacher!dream, gn!reader, dream likes u oooooh, cute kids, writer knows nothing about chess or how chess tournaments work, you requested high school but i can’t read so i chose middle school sorry!! this is literally nothing like you requested pls forgive me but i has fun, proceed with caution)

song to listen to: roadtrip by dream

i am setting the scene to say that teacher!dream is hot!!!! like, rolled up sleeves and leather watch kind of hot !!!!!!!

dream with fluffy waves that he sometimes ties into a bun if it gets too hot,,, brown roots and blond hair, brown eyebrows, forest green eyes,,,,,, freckles,,,,,

teaches middle school math!! very patient w his kids!!! but also has been known to go on tangents so long that they last until the bell rings

he’s the teacher whose classroom the weird/shy kids sit in at lunch

reads up on his students special interests and tries to ask them about it and encourage them

doesn’t make kids write out their entire process during testing bc he understands some students work in their head and can’t <3

works with different methods to help each kid learn math in their own way

the sweetest ever omg i can’t imagine a nicer teacher than dream

has a open-policy snack cabinet in case some of the kids can’t buy their lunch

has rlly cheesy anti bullying posters on his wall but actually talks to his students about it and makes sure they know he is someone they can go to

okay this is supposed to be a love story not an i heart teacher dream story sorry

you’re the art teacher of the middle school!!! you are also one of the favorites when it comes to teachers

dream is sort of a practical logical comforter and you’re a more dreamy, imagination-based comforter

so the kids ofc have their favorites

you’re a wonderful teacher !!!!

you let the kids use art class as a sort of art therapy, giving them time to do whatever they want with colors and mediums of their choosing

and assignments are usually fun!! you make it fun by giving them good topics that encourage them to express their opinions and personalities !!!

dream has the FATTEST crush on you

it’s so big and he’s very bad at hiding it

literally buys an extra coffee friday morning

slips into your classroom like “oh? hey ___ ? didn’t expect you to be here!!”

you: “in my own classroom?”

dream: “ANYWHO!! they messed up my order AGAIN and gave me a caramel frappe instead of a matcha so you can have it”

he does this every week

new excuses sometimes but it’s always ur favorite flavor, sitting right beside his matcha in a lil cup holder

dream is the type of guy to make sure your fingertips touch when he hands you your cup

so he can blush about it later and pretend it means something

any time he needs supplies or something he goes to you first instead of the communal supply closet

during his break he’ll come in and try to talk to you while your kids are painting

you sometimes sit with him during lunch!! and the kids that all sit in his classroom love you, even if they don’t have art

and every time you do he stutters over his own words and his neck gets rlly red

the kids all give each other side eyes when he does this

math kids 🤝 art kids : tired of witnessing dream’s bad flirting skills

dream brings you a cupcake on your birthday and a little necklace w a crystal on it :/

“i googled crystals for protection!! because i want u safe always!! and i made sure it was sustainably sourced!! let me know if you don’t like it!!”

how could you not like it :(

his eyes are wide and almost worried and when you give him a big smile he gets so happy like :((

your students are just. super still behind their easels hoping this is the moment you’ll actually kiss him

but no

it isn’t until a few of your kids come up one day and ask about forming an official chess club

they need at least one teacher willing to supervise and go on tournament trips and stuff

half of the team asks you and the other asks dream

but they don’t communicate that to each other

so it’s a saturday when both you and dream show up to the school in your casual clothes, unlocking one of the rooms for the kids to practice in

you help some kids set up while dream takes a few to the side and begins to teach them the basics, since not everyone who joins is an actual player

some just wanted to be w their friends ^u^!!!

but dream keeps catching your eye over the sea of middle schoolers and it makes your cheeks heat up whether u want them to or not

the two of you becoming the unofficial parents of the middle school chess team; you take turns supervising but usually both go to trips for tournaments!!

there are six students who make up the chess team + a few who just come for the snacks and respite

and your team is actually so good they qualify for state

and it’s going to be an overnight trip !!

some parents have also agreed to come chaperone

the team is so excited!!! the entire team got to go even though only a few are competing

theres a lot of lovely support going around

your kids are expressive and bright, all wearing special t-shirts they made that count as “uniforms”

they are twelve and dgaf about what ANYONE has to say

puffy markers and all

and before the tournament they surprise u and dream with ur own shirts :(( they are so sweet omg

and ofc you and dream wear them!!! fashion be damned!!!!!

the shirts are like MR WASTAKEN LOVES HIS CHESS TEAM

TEACHER ___ LOVES THEIR CHESS TEAM

AND THERES AN IRON-ON PICTURE OF YOU GUYS AND UR KIDS — EVERYBODY IS CHEESING AND ITS JUST SO SO CUTE

man they just look up to you guys so much

they really needed a place to fit in and your club gave them that

even the ones who are HORRIBLE at chess are sitting in the bleachers with you guys, cheering on their friends ><!!

it’s all so wholesome omg

and your team ends up qualifying !!!!!!!! it’s huge !!!!!!! you all go out for celebratory milkshakes sponsored by mr wastaken !!!!!

and everyone falls asleep with a big smile on their face that night

the next day is full of driving,, and you and dream share a lil seat at the back of the bus

all the kids are winding down, listening to music or playing games on their phones

and dream is so warm, shoulder pressed against yours when he hands you one of his earbuds and is like ,,,, do you want to listen to music with me?

and ofc you do

so the two of you take turns picking songs

dream adds them all later to a playlist called ___ and dream’s epic roadtrip playlist

now that interstate is paved with memories amirite?

once all the kids are picked up at the school, you are about to call your roommate to come pick you up

but dream is like. i can drive you home

dream is that guy who drives with one hand and keeps the other on top of the gear shift <3

you’re just excitedly recounting all the kid’s faces and all the silly stories you were told in the hotel when dream is finally at your apartment complex

and he just bursts

“i really like you”

and you’re just. stunned bc you knew he was fond of you but you never thought he’d be brave enough to SAY it

“i like you too dream!!”

“would it be too cheesy to walk you to your door and kiss you goodbye?”

“maybe... but i like cheesy.”

thank you for requesting!!!

#I fully believe dream is horrible at flirting #dreamwastaken au #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fanfic #mcyt au #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Take Me Away

Relationship: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: slight angst, eventual fluff Summary: Royalty!AU - You and your lady-in-waiting Wanda have been in a secret, forbidden relationship but everything gets tested when your father, the King, announces you are to be wed to a prince from a neighboring country. A/N: i’ve been loving royalty!au stuff lately and wanted to take my own stab at it. it’s not the most complicated, spectacular piece but i enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

Wanda always arrived to your chambers right at the crack of dawn. Ever the punctual one, your lady-in-waiting never wasted a second once that bright light of a new day came through the windows. Sometimes she was even tasked with waking you up, ranting and raving about how your gown was going to take forever to lace up or that your hair wasn’t going to be dry enough to meet your family for breakfast.

Her frantic attitude always made you laugh. You thought her worrying heart was so silly and to show for it, you’d sometimes make it a point to shut her up with a kiss. One thing would lead to another until you two were lost among the silk sheets.

That all, though, had come to a stop today. Wanda was late this morning and you sadly knew why. Her heart must’ve been breaking, taking all her energy to pick up the pieces one by one this morning. You didn’t blame her, really, you felt the same break within you.

It had all fallen out last night. Your father, the usually benevolent King, had held a feast for your court and the royal family of a neighboring country. This wasn’t unusual for him as he very much loved to entertain. Everything had been going smooth. You were lost in the dancing and laughing with the patron, eagerly showing off the brand new dress your tailor had delivered that morning. You even got to sneak some cheeky glances at Wanda who stood off with the other servants, ready when needed.

Everything came to a screeching halt the second dinner had concluded. In between the refills of wine and arrival of dessert, your father had a surprise announcement to. It was as if a million bombs were going off. He revealed you were set to be married to the bordering country’s Prince. No one had told you, not even a hint from your mother, just this public declaration. You looked towards the king and his son — your soon-to-be-husband — and they were just beaming with joy. All plans and politics were falling into place for them while your world was crumbling.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom where you vomited profusely. Wanda, though, didn’t arrive to help. In fact, she didn’t arrive to your room for the rest of the night, sending one of the temporary servants instead.

You fell asleep feeling the loneliest you had felt in a long time. And those feelings certainly weren’t subsiding as you sat at your vanity the next morning, still waiting for Wanda.

You had been sitting alone for so long you thought she had abandoned her duties — or maybe she had just straight up retired last night and you were waiting on nothing — but then there was the unmistakable sound of your heavy door creaking open followed the gentle clicking of it closing. You peered into your looking glass, shifting it so slightly to show you the presence behind you.

"Wanda," you sighed, her naming falling from your lips as if it was the sweetest honey.

"Your Highness." While unsurprising, her cold and stoic response cut you. Your body tensed. Last time she had called you that was upon your very first meeting. Before she was the lover you kept in the shadows. Before there was ever a chance of losing her. The royal title felt like a death sentence now.

After a deep breath, you slowly placed the looking glass back on the table. You felt Wanda approach you from behind with caution. You didn’t know whether to turn around or ask her to begin her morning duties. If you were to be really honest with yourself, you just wanted to grab her and hold one another.

But Wanda seemed to have decided for the both of you. Hesitantly, she reached for the brush on the vanity and gently began on your hair. You wanted to cry.

"Wanda, please," you mumbled. "Talk to me."

"Talk to you?" She repeated, her fingers now running through your hair giving slight pulls as she fixed the curls. The actions reminded you of when she would… "And what would you like me to say?"

"Something, anything!" You were nearly crying, your words coming out in weak begs. "I didn’t know anything about it, you have to trust me on that. I—I don’t want… I could never—,"

"Never, what?" Wanda cut you off, the brushing motions in your hair suddenly halted. "You couldn’t possibly think we could ever be together fully. I’ll admit, I indulged in this fantasies but I’ve stopped. We weren’t meant to be and you sure weren’t meant to be a single princess forever." She cleared her throat. "This was bound to happen, I fear."

"No, no," you fought back, shaking your head insistently. Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down, but you only jumped at the touch, feeling that burning connection between you two. You couldn’t believe how much hold she had over you. How much you had over one another.

"Your Highness, I’m afraid—,"

"We can run away." The words slipped out of you so fast you never had a chance to bite your tongue. It felt like the world stopped, like you had created your own bomb to set off. Wanda’s grip on your shoulder got tighter. You straightened your posture, meaning business now despite the tears still flowing. You placed your hand atop of hers and continued, "I really think we could do it, dear. I can access the family funds, we could pack a few things, then be off in the night. Wouldn’t that just be nice? We could go wherever, start whatever life we want. You’re not wrong to say this was bound to happen but that doesn’t mean we can’t escape it."

"My Lady… There must be some consideration for the prince, the kingdoms, your subjects—,"

"They’re better to have no ruler than one who lives in constant agony."

The declaration was bold but it was the farthest from a lie. You decided to finally turn and face Wanda, your hand now holding hers with the greatest, most loving strength. The first thing you noticed were her eyes. They were so red and heavy, no doubt from hours of crying. Her hair was a mess as well, complimented by the worn down servants gown she wore. She hadn’t put any effort in today, probably dragging herself about as you predicted.

Slowly, you pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Wanda let out a breathy gasp. When you met her eyes again, it appeared the deal had been sealed. But you needed her to say it.

"We can really do this, can’t we?" She asked shyly.

You nodded, a little grin playing at your lips. "I think we could go anywhere," you confirmed. "Maybe we can start a farm, raise some chickens or cows. Or — Oh! We could start a nice garden. I loved the one here but father wouldn’t let me learn how to care for it."

Wanda sighed as she watched you get lost in a new fantasy, one way beyond just being together but having a life. "Speaking of your father, he will send people after us, won’t he? The palace guards will die trying to find us if they have to."

You simply shrugged. Sure, she wasn’t wrong, but this was a big place and who knew what bigger places were out there. "Let them," you finally said. "We’ll be so far long gone before they realize it they won’t know what hit them."

Silence fell between you two.

"You’re going to give up all this for a chance for us to be together?" Wanda finally asked, motioning towards the gloriousness of the castle chamber. She was a very thorough one, extremely detailed-oriented, which made her the best partner-in-crime you had decided before ever engaging romantically. Eventually, it was one of the things that made you fall head over heals. She noticed everything, always the sweet and cool observer. You didn’t blame her for using the skill now.

"Wanda, dear," you sighed as your hand crept its way to her neck. "I’d give it all up a million times over to be with you."

Your sweet lover looked like she was now going to cry so you took the leap to lean up, catching her lips with yours. After a stunned moment, she returned the kiss, your lips moving in a familiar sync. It was electrifying knowing you hadn’t lost her. Knowing she was most likely going to be it for you, forever. Completely devoted to one another, comfortably and freely.

Wanda’s hand begin caressing your cheek when she pulled away slightly. Your foreheads were touching now but it still wasn’t close enough for you.

"Let’s do it," she whispered. "Take me away."

Words seemed so hard, something only the presence of Wanda could do to you. Unable to figure what was right to say now, of all times, you nodded and wrapped one arm around her waist. You pulled her into you, hugging her with all your might. She didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, soaking each other in.

"Of course, dear," you eventually said. Such small words they held the mysterious beginning and marked the glorious end.

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angeloroki · 3 years

Text

the angel and her prince — keigo takami

« his angel, you were his angel. or was he your prince ? your fantasy ? »

— character ; keigo takami x poc fem!reader

— genre ; fluff, maybe angst ?, au fantasy

— warnings ; suggestive content

— a/n ; i wanted to write something that venerated the beauty of the black woman, i hope it's not too lame

you had been watching him for a while from your cloud. keigo takami, the prince of a kingdom with rich lands. he was handsome, strong, young. the princesses only had eyes for him, bla-bla-bla.

but he was a gambler, he had never fallen in love according to your friend Cupid. it was this information that had piqued your curiosity.

what about you ? you were mean. it was mean from you to disappear every time, leaving no trace of your passage after making him completely in love with you.. miss, you had the unfortunate tendency to let him the next day, alone and helpless. only your feverish kisses left a sweet and bitter hint of your lips on his skin. and perhaps sometimes, if luck smiled on him, a feather or two would fall from your majestic wings, to remind him of the graceful angel that you were.

but that never stopped him from wondering when he would see you again.

while you, from your cloud, only looked at him with an amused expression. you left him with his doubts that you were just a mirage.

but why that ? simply because your selfish fear of falling in love with him prevented you from getting together with the young prince.

however, this time you had left him a nice note in your beautiful handwriting, promising him to come back as soon as possible, promising him ever softer caresses and ever more loving kisses. his heart was beating wildly. and that was the effect you were looking for. the mere thought of you gave him an incomparable adrenalin.

that night you promised him finally arrived.

the moon reflected its whitish light on your dark, luscious skin, amplifying the divine air you already naturally exuded. the soft satin sheet partly covered your goddess-like body. a painting worthy of the greatest baroque painters, you were a muse unto yourself. your lips, reddened by the kisses you had offered him, were now blowing sweetness that made him blush.

you were perfect. but this perfection was real, it was not the word you dared to say to a beautiful woman you were meeting for the first time for example. your beauty was complex, supernatural, incomparable, pure.

your smile that you would address to him when he sometimes surprised you with his stupid human features. you remeber this discussion you had with him, the first time you met him.

« i want to buy you all the jewels this land has. it's my duty as a prince, let me embellish you with crystals, gold, and precious prayers. » a narcissistic smile appeared on his beautiful face.

you rolled your eyes. human pretension.

« i already have all the gold in the world, handsome. i am the angel of beauty. »

« so maybe my poems could make you fall in love with me ? »

but, yeah, that smile that could light up an entire city without power. that smile that had the gift of giving a second chance to a wilted flower. it was one of the many things that made you an angel.

but what the prince liked best was surely your stretch marks. those slightly darker brown features on your black skin that could only gratify it. they were witnesses of a natural beauty.

as for your cherry-scented hair, it was strewn with strange golden glitter. a characteristic unique to angels, you had once revealed to him.

these imperfections, or should i say, perfections, were adored by your lover. that's why you were called the angel of beauty. simply because you were the very definition of it.

wait, had he also mentioned the beauty of your wings ? those wings that turned a light and imperceptible pink in the sunlight, and then turned bright white in a darker place. this detail, which he had noticed from admiring you in your secret garden, was perhaps what had charmed you at first.

an angelic laugh, like celestial music, escaped from your lips. you did not yet have the power to read the minds of humans, but you could see that the man in front of you only had eyes for you. and you loved it.

« marry me, y/n. we don't need a ceremony, i can get us two rings now. and we'll just have to make our vows. »

your dark eyes widened slightly.

« don't be silly, my love. »

your words seemed to sadden him a little. your hands came to meet his face which you took in your hands.

« marriage is only a futile and human way to make us belong to each other. but you are already mine, as i am yours, keigo. my embrace doesn't prove it to you enough ? » you say in a honeyed voice.

and also, maybe is it because i can't marry you, takami ? an angel could never live forever with a vile human like you. we are both victims of a romantic tragedy, keigo, you were thinking of yourself.

« i could never stop loving you. » he says in a voice filled with desire.

a strange warmth came over your cheeks. what was happening to you ? could it be the effect of love rubbing off on you ?

« continue to take me as your muse and write these fabulous poems, darling. »

« are you going to break this one's heart too ? » your friend Cupid asks you.

too busy re-tuning your harp, a faint smile lit up your face at the thought of your lover.

« mmh you tell me... i think one of your arrows must have hit me too, Cupid. »

a crisp laugh escaped his lips before he gave you a bored look.

« don't talk nonsense, angels can't fall in love. specially you, the angel of beauty. »

the angel of love was far from imagining that he was wrong.

« oh and by the way, i didn't shoot any arrows at that human, y/n. if he's madly in love with you, it's because of you. »

#bnha x reader #bnha insert #keigo x reader #blackinbnha #hawks x reader #takami x reader #mha x reader #keigo x poc!reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #keigo x black reader #hawks x black!reader #hawks x poc!reader #takami x you

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

inspired by a song from ‘the ballad of songbirds and snakes’ (I highly recommend the book!!)

(lyrics modified slightly to fit the story, and no copyright infringement intended!!)

wc: 2.4k ~ haknyeon x gender neutral!reader ~ nobility!au (ish) ~ triggers: blood, death (nothing graphic) ~ the boyz masterlist

prequels: don’t be silly | shattered

for @thepixelelf :)

[ birds in the heavens ] Lying on a field filled with smoke and ash, you drag in a long breath.

So this is what it’s come to.

You cough, pain shooting through your chest as the metallic tang of blood fills your mouth. Just a few years ago, you never would have imagined this – a battlefield death, so far from home, a fall from grace…

No, not grace. Not you. He was grace. He was everything beautiful in this war-torn world, sunlight on the grass, stars in the sky, flowers in the meadow beyond the village, blue and red and pink and white woven in a wreath that you placed on his head with trembling fingers and a smile only he could put on your face.

Where was grace but in the curve of his lips and the scrunch of his eyes as he laughed? Where was grace but in the rough brush of his fingers to your smooth skin, worlds apart united for brief, beautiful moments in the touch of your hands together? There was a time when you thought you were grace, fine clothes and elegant dances and lilted words, but he was grace, truly, sunbeams personified, tanned hands rough from work deftly twisting grass together into a makeshift ring that fit perfectly on your fourth finger, a crude proposal in the eyes of anyone in your circle but so beautiful in your eyes, accompanied by a voice of sugar and honey, birdsong whispering between the blades of shifting grass, promises of a future where the warmth of his touch would never leave your skin.

What was the song he sang? Something about valleys and trains, roses and violets and red and blue…

A memory of his voice washes through your mind, a taste of honey sweet against the bitter ash coating your tongue.

Down in the valley, valley so low,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

The train, love, hear the train blow,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

He used to say that he’d wait to hear the train whistle during the months he knew you’d be there. He said it took everything in him not to run to the station and blow both of your covers, he wanted to see you so much.

What wouldn’t you give to see him now?

Go build me a mansion, build it so high,

So I can see my true love go by.

See him go by, love, see him go by,

So I can see my true love go by.

A smile stains your trembling lips. Where the first verse was his, this one was yours. Only you could speak of mansions and true love and not be entirely joking – you used to promise him you’d build yourselves a house someday, a house where you could live together in secret peace, away from the prying eyes of your family and their spies.

Go write me a letter, send it by mail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

Capital jail, love, to the capital jail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

A sob racks your body, ash settling in your throat and mixing with the blood bubbling on your tongue. How were you two to know that the third verse he sang so teasingly, eyes squinting with laughter as he swore to you with honey-sweet seriousness that he’d love you to the end, would become truth? That he’d be imprisoned in that very jail and later killed, with you sent to the battlefield to die? You couldn’t even send letters, like in the song.

There’s a fourth verse to the song, a verse you’d sing together, but the sun burns overhead and seals your lips shut. Its rays sear into your eyes, scorching your heart with the guilt, the knowledge that you have no right to sing or even remember the verse, and it hurts, but you can’t look away. Won’t look away. It’s the sun, what he was, pure warmth and light made whole into one human being whom you were lucky enough to love – how could you let that go?

How could you let him go?

Tears spring into your eyes. They fall slowly, cutting tracks through the grime on your face. One hand struggles to rise, to wipe them away, but you can’t. You can’t. The tears… they’re him. What you have left of him. Tears, tears only, and the dried grass tied around your finger…

Your face burns under the sun. It’s bright, so bright, just like him.

You were so bright, love. The hand that tried to wipe the tears now aches to reach up to the sky, fingers enclosing around a ray of light in a futile effort to bring it to your lips, to kiss him one last time before the darkness blurring your vision takes you completely. Bright as the sun. I could never close my eyes to you.

Even if it burned.

An image appears in the sun, his face contorted in pain and agony as they dragged him to the center of the square. Two guards held you back as you screamed. Four more stood in front of him, guns raised.

The sun blazed that day, just like his eyes as they stared into yours with all the conviction of a man who knew he had done nothing wrong, the bravery of a boy who had been taught to love and only love.

Even when the one he loved could do nothing to save him.

The same sun flares overhead, witness to your love, witness to his death, and now, soon, a witness to yours. It shines unflinchingly, fierce, unforgiving – you couldn’t save him. You couldn’t.

I couldn’t. A sob rips through your bleeding body. Pain tears into every wound in your skin, but it can’t compare to the ache in your chest, the knowledge of a death you couldn’t prevent. I’m sorry. I couldn’t.

I failed.

The sun feels colder now, warm rays chilled under your confession of failure. It hurts to stare, to keep your eyes open even as cold fire sears anger into your wounds, but it’s penance. Punishment. Just like when they stripped your title and shoved you into war, a nameless foot soldier to be buried under a heap of other nameless bodies, retribution for loving a boy they believed to be beneath your station.

Beneath my station. If you could, you’d snort. If only they could see that the farmer boy they scorned to death was so much more than all of them. Than all of you.

Sunlight personified, sparkling in a blue sky without a cloud.

You blink. There are clouds now, of gray smoke from firing guns stained red from the screaming bodies falling all around you. But the sun cuts through it all to shine on you, cold, unforgiving in the knowledge that you failed to protect the boy who loved you to the end, even as bullets ripped into his body the way they now have ripped into yours.

I failed.

I’m sorry.

I failed.

Blood trickles down your face. Your eyes remain open, focused on the sun. They burn, but it’s nothing compared to the punishment you deserve for not keeping him alive the way you promised yourself you would.

I couldn’t. Another sob wracks your bloodied chest. Everything hurts. I couldn’t.

But then –

A face you never thought you’d see again leans over your ruined body, bright, visible, even as darkness further coats your eyes.

The sunlight grows a little warmer.

Haknyeon?

You couldn’t, love. A hand reaches out, caresses your bloody cheek with a softness of touch that almost makes you close your eyes. You couldn’t. And that’s okay.

Tears fill your eyes afresh. No, it isn’t, you try to argue with the vision that can’t be real but that feels so real, so frighteningly warm in this one moment. I couldn’t save you. You should’ve lived.

You couldn’t, Haknyeon repeats, eyes sparkling. He looks so healthy, so whole – no bullets in his chest, no blood running down his face. Your heart aches. It’s okay. Please believe me, love. It’s okay.

The softness in his voice makes you want to believe it, makes you want to fall into his honeyed words that flow, smooth, through your ears, soothing the pain throbbing all over your body. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, you try to argue through cracked and bloody lips that cannot speak. Don’t give it to me. I don’t deserve it.

His touch feels so real against your skin. It’s a good thing I’m not here to forgive you, then, he laughs, for there was never anything to forgive.

Blood bursts from your lips as ash tickles your nose and you cough again, this time curling into his phantom touch. Then why are you here, if not to condemn me?

A question remains in the air, unsung, unsaid, but heavy as the clouds of smoke settling on the field.

Surely you can’t still love me?

He shines, warm, light, brighter than the sun overhead. You hear the answer to your question in his next words even if he doesn’t say it and it hurts, hurts so much – you don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve any of the love he still holds for you –

Close your eyes, love, Haknyeon whispers. Close your eyes. I’ll take the pain away.

Panic rises in your chest. You can’t. You can’t close your eyes, can’t lose sight of him or the burning sun, penance for your crime, the last sight of your lover that you will take as your soul slips away – you can’t let this gift go, this last vision – it’s all you have left of him besides the tears and the grass ring wrapped around your finger –

Close your eyes, love. His smile trembles, but his palm remains steady against your cheek. Close your eyes, and I promise you will still see me.

You blink unsteadily against the black spots dotting his face and the sunlight. Truly?

Truly.

The sun dances between the spots in your vision. To close your eyes and lose sight of the sky and of him, or to keep them open and take the image of him, smiling to your grave?

But it hurts so much to keep them open. Burns. And he said he’d still be there even if you closed your eyes against the burn, against the sun…

Maybe you will still feel his warmth, even if you give in to the darkness.

Slowly, slowly, your eyes flutter shut. Black washes across your vision and you almost panic – you can’t see him, he said you’d see him but you can’t and now you don’t have the energy to open your eyes once more – but then warmth settles on your forehead and, oh –

It’s him. His lips, kissing your grimy, bloody skin. And you can still see him, see his smile as he comes closer to cup your cheek with his hand once more, his palm warmer than the sun ever was.

It’s okay, Haknyeon whispers, words ghosting across your skin. I’ll take the pain away. Remember our song?

It hurts so much to breathe a few words from your lips, but for him, you manage. Yes, I do.

Sing with me.

And somehow, you know that if he were granted a last request at the end of his life, it would have been this. For you to sing with him one more time.

Who are you to deny him the last wish he never had?

Your lips begin to move, ever so slightly.

Down in the valley, valley so low,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

The train, love, hear the train blow,

Late in the evening, hear the train blow.

His song buoys you on, lifting words from your throat even as the pain begins to blur, to fade, taking your voice with it.

Go build me a mansion, build it so high,

So I can see my true love go by.

See him go by, love, see him go by,

So I can see my true love go by.

You falter at the next verse, unshed tears choking your words, but he continues, fingers still stroking your cheek as his song filters through your ears, soft, sweet.

Go write me a letter, send it by mail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

Capital jail, love, to the capital jail,

Bake it and stamp it to the capital jail.

Bitter grief wells in your throat, mixing with the blood. If you couldn’t sing the last verse, there’s no way you can do the fourth. You can’t. You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to sing the verse that you always sang together, soft under the sun in a meadow of flowers, holding each other close as you whispered the words into each other’s ears. You don’t deserve to say those words to him, I love you, because even when he loved you to the end, your love wasn’t enough to keep him alive.

Come, love. A hand takes yours, toys with the dried grass tied around your finger. Sing with me. Please.

I don’t deserve it.

Yes, you do. He kisses your forehead again, soft as a flower petal against your skin. You still love me, and I still love you. Nothing has changed.

But –

Nothing has changed, he murmurs. Nothing has changed.

Tears no longer spill from your eyes, but if you had the energy, you’d let them fall. Okay, you whisper. Okay.

Thank you.

You struggle to move your lips as the pain fades, disappearing into the touch of his skin against yours. But his voice stays strong, warm, golden as the sunlight still washing over your skin.

Roses are red, love, he sings. Violets are blue. Birds in the heavens know I love you.

A last trembling smile spreads small across your face, lyrics lingering on your lips.

Know I love you, oh, know I love you…

His arms wrap warm around your shoulders, warmer than sunlight, and the last words whisper soft into your ear as the world finally slips away.

Birds in the heavens know I love you.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 well wish for the couple they deserve it)

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damnzawa · 3 years

Note

Hi there! I just found your account and I love you writing! I was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader fantasy au? Where prince bakugou goes to a small village in his kingdom for a pit stop while on a quest but meets the reader who's a poor butcher's daughter that doesn't know who he is and doesn't really care either but really wants to go on a quest and begs him to let her travel with him in exchange for being a chef. Thank you so much!!💞💕💗 ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾┌(★ｏ☆)┘

ANNOYING — B. KATSUKI

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this took a long time to be published! I went off tumblr for a while due to personal issues but now I'm back! Hope you like this!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (for now)

WARNINGS: Language LMAO but its Bakugo so what do we expect. Also this is not beta read!

WORD COUNT: 1955

Not everyday you have the privilage to meet the prince. The heir to the kingdom's throne. The second most respected man in the whole entire kingdom.

And not everyday you get to mistake him as a thief either.

Not that you care about his title, really. You believe that all men are created equal, regardless of their social standings, heirarchy and whatnot. Thus, you didn't really care about the prince and the royal family that much to ever know about them. Not even their faces, nor names.

So, it wasn't a surprise that it will cause you your possible demise.

You see, the day started nice. You went out to do some deliveries, met some nice people on the road who bought half of the meat your father had cut, and to top it all off the farmer was kind enough to give you extra rootcrops as a sign of gratitude to you and your father. It was a great day all in all. Until, the knights came.

Along with the explosive prince.

Murmurs began to start as you headed back to your father's stall in the market after a long day of delivery work. Even though you didn't mean to eavesdrop — it was kind of hard not to, considering how their volumes were — you caught the words: arrogant, self-centered, short-tempered. And later you found out those words described the prince.

"He must be a nincompoop then. To get such a reputation from the people in town, he must have done some... questionable things." You said to yourself. Too engrosed in your thoughts, you bumped into a red-headed knight. You bowed immediately while apologizing then excused yourself, you didn't really want to interact with knights today. All you wanted to do was cook a hearty meal for your stubborn father, read a book by the fireplace after a bath, and relax.

But all those plans seem to be quickly washed away when you saw an ash blond quietly steal from your father. You were gonna let it slide, thinking that maybe it was for a good cause.

That is until you realized, the man stole a prime cut.

As if a switch was flicked, you quickly ran towards the direction the man headed to. Spotting him from afar, you ran as fast as you can and knocked the man into the ground, shocking the people around you.

"Give it back." You sternly commanded the man. "Give back the meat you stole from my father."

The man scoffed at your 'accusations' and tried to wiggle his way free but your entire weight placed on top of his back made it hard to do so. "Let me fucking go. I have no idea what the actual fuck you are accusing me of."

"Oh shut it. I saw you with my own two eyes and I am very much sure that their vision is not impaired yet." His futile attempts at escaping now stopped as he tilted his head to see the scoundrel who had the audacity to knock him down and embarrass him infront of townspeople.

Of course it had to be a girl.

"Are you one of my admirers to go such lengths as accusing me of stealing from a commoner?" That comment made your eye twitch because first, you are certainly not an admirer of this prick. Two, you don't even know the guy! Three, who would admire this piece of work? And lastly, your father might be a 'commoner' but he's the best 'commoner' you could ever find! There wouldn't be a slab of ribs or a fine piece of steak on your plates if it weren't for him! And the way this asshole said 'commoner' with such distaste too! What a prick! Who the hell does he think he is?

"My prince!" The same red-headed knight you bumped into earlier shouted from afar. Your eyes widened for a second before turning back to the asshole beneath you who now has a smug grin on his face.

"Miss! Are you alright?" The knight asked while helping you get up. "Did the prince cause you any disturbances? Any problems?" It was your turn to plaster on a smug grin on your face. You saw his own falter which you made you more smug than before.

"Why yes actually, the prince caused me a slight inconvenience." The red-head sighed, taking a quick glance at the prince beside him — who couldn't stand due to pain. "The prince stole a priceless little thing from my father's stall earlier and I'd like for him to return it or better yet, pay for it." The prince was about to retort but the red-head beat him to it.

"I deeply apologize for the prince's action, miss. If it would make you happy and satisfied, I will pay for the items he stole. I will also ask for forgiveness on his behalf." Angry noises came from the prince's (beast) mouth as the red-headed knight did exactly what he told making you raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing it for him? Can't he do it himself?" It was amazing to see a knight easily convinced to do something a mere 'commoner' like you demanded, but you concluded that this red-headed fellow wasn't an ordinary knight. He seemed like the type that's fed up with the prince's antics, thus his demeanor towards people is filled with empathy and the usual knightly courage. But your words made him halt, and look at you as if you were from some otherworldly land.

You caught the knight mutter about something manly before the prince interrupted. "Hah?! I'm not gonna apologize to someone lower than me! You extra!" The knight sweat-dropped at the prince's words while you looked at him blankly. Wow, the rumors are true, he is an asshole.

"Well, Your Highness, this extra happened to be the one who cared for the rib who used to be a part of the cow that you stole just now. So, apologize and pay up. I don't care if you're the prince or not. Thievery is a crime, and you just committed it." The crowd begin to whisper, making the prince's eye twitch.

"Fine, you annoying extra! Give her whatever the fuck she wants!" And with that the prince stormed off. Leaving you and the red-haired knight behind. The crowd began to disperse, seeing as the scene just concluded and that the man of the hour was gone.

The knight turned to you once again and bowed. "I'm deeply sorry for my prince's actions. As he caused such an inconvenience and refuses to be accountable for his actions, I shall ensure to provide whatever compensation you need or want — within reason of course." Before you can respond, he introduces himself with a grin. "Ah! How silly of me! Chivalric knight, Kirishima Eijirou at your service."

"I appreciate your efforts, Sir Kirishima, but I just need the payment for the stolen goods." You replied with a smile, but soon your smile faltered. You had wanted to be a chef for so long and travel unknown lands to discover cuisine and cooking techniques you've never heard of before. Perhaps... is this the right time to do it?

You bit your lip as you contemplated. Should you grab this opportunity and run with it?

Seeing your hesitancy, Kirishima waited for your answer. "Actually... I have a request... I was wondering if it's possible?"

"I'm all ears, Miss."

...

"What is this extra doing here?!" Prince Bakugo exclaimed as he saw your annoying little face within his traveling party. Kirishima sighed as he explained the situation. You would join his party as a chef until you reach the capital where you will be training to be a chef under the great Lunch Rush. Bakugo was about to object when Kirishima shot him a look.

"Fine. But I'm not eating garbage cooked by a commoner!" You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. Are all royals like this?

As if reading your mind, Kirishima responds. "Don't worry. King Masaru and Queen Mitsuki are quite modest and kind."

"Then what happened to him?" You pointed to Bakugo.

"I heard that, you extra!" Fowl language followed that statement making the traveling party sigh. Oh boy, this is gonna be a painful journey.

After that, you said your goodbyes to your father, who was very emotional about the turn of events. "Be good and be brave, my sweet child. And ask for forgiveness from His Highness." Your brows were scrunched in confusion.

"Why must I do that? He was clearly in the wrong!"

"Ah... that slab of meat was a present from me to him. He once helped me round up the cows when his traveling party went by our house yesterday. The slab of priceless meat was a token of appreciation for his kind gesture. So, do apologize for your actions, ok?" The information you just heard astounded you, making you speechless. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you promised your father that you will apologize to the prince. And with a final promise of coming home as a renowned chef, you parted ways.

The journey started rough. The prince refused to eat anything you made at all. His stubbornness knows no bounds and his overall demeanor towards you was not pleasant, which you understood as the scene you caused was a total misunderstanding on your part. The only upside was the traveling party greatly enjoyed your meals, and some even gave you recipes from different places and suggestions of destinations that you'll surely enjoy to explore! Overall, it went smoothly.

That is, until the prince became sick.

The doctors in your traveling party asked you to concoct different meals suited to His Highness, You had to stop at a village in order to ensure Prince Bakugo's speedy recovery. And one day, you were assigned to deliver his meals to him personally.

"Prince Bakugo?" You knocked on the door, and as expected, not a response came from the prince. You sighed and slowly opened the door, cautiously stepping in so you won't wake Bakugo up or spill the contents of the bowl you held.

"Go away, you extra." He grumbled, but his rough voice was replaced with a weak ome due to his illness.

"Look, I know you won't eat my meals but you need to eat. You can't recover from this if your body doesn't have the nutrients it needs to fight back this illness." You huffed. "And... besides, consider this as my way of making up to you."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"My father told me about it. I'm sorry for mistaking you for a thief. I tried to apologize to you on several occasions but you angrily push me away every time I do. So, I figured this might be the right timing since you know... you aren't your usual aggressive self." You scratched your nape in embarrassment. "Besides, if there's something I learned while traveling with you is that you're a big softie inside. You might act rough and is shard on the edges, you're actually kind-hearted and caring. Uh... anyways. Please make sure to eat your meal, Prince Bakugo."

Before you can exit the room, you heard him say, "Annoying extra." But the usual hostility behind those words wasn't there. You might just be assuming it or imagining it, but those words almost sounded... fond.

With a shake of your head, you left the room.

Later that day, you found the bowl to be empty and outside of his room. Along with it was a note that read, "Don't fucking tell me what to do, you annoying extra."

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #kirishima eijiro/reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bakugo/reader #kirishima/reader #im writing again yey

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kiribakuhappiness · 3 years

Text

Some notes for a KiriBaku AU that I would love to write one day but probably won’t ever find the time to, so here’s the barebones outline for it at least because I thought it was a fun idea! :,D

Lady & the Tramp

Gentleman and the Tramp

- Eijirou has always lived a comfortable lifestyle. He’s always had food in his belly and a roof over his head and a fireplace to huddle around during cold bitter nights. His parents’ marriage was filled with love and their house was filled with warmth and, with a new baby sister on the way, things were looking pretty good for him.

- Katsuki hasn’t known such comfort since he was a young boy, when his mom was arrested for something he didn’t even know what cause he was too young to have coherent thoughts yet and his father cracked under the pressure of being a single parent to an explosively rebellious child. The streets weren’t ideal, but Katsuki grew up tougher than his old man and more intelligent than what was for his own good, and so he made the most of it.

- Eijirou’s close friends are Denki /a local artist/ and Sero /a general store clerk/ who regularly visit with him at his house.

- Katsuki would say that he doesn’t have friends but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t begrudgingly accept the friendship of an overly zealous newspaper boy by the name of Deku, who mentions to him one day how the wealthy Kirishima family is expecting another child.

- Katsuki comments that he doesn’t see how that could possibly be news to anyone, until later that day when he overhears a rather disturbing conversation about how someone is planning on kidnapping the baby for ransom.

- “A yuppy family like that’ll no doubt pay extra-”

- “double,”

- “triple!”

- Intrigued by all the commotion, Katsuki visits the Kirishima Mansion, eyeing the picturesque Japanese gardens with some underlying prejudice and the perfectly manicured yards with barely contained disgust. A real run-of-the-mill, too fancy for their own good establishment; Katsuki’s finding it hard to gather any sort of sympathy for them.

- While observing the manor in all its glory, Katsuki overhears Eijirou speaking with Denki and Sero about the new baby and how excited they all are for its arrival. Unable to help himself from chiming in with his own opinion, Katsuki comments how bringing another child into the world when there are already so many on the streets that need homes could be seen as the utmost snobby act of privilege shown by the upper class. A real kick in the groin to those struggling to make ends meet out in the real world.

- Denki and Sero are immediately put off by Katsuki’s cynicism and tell him to slink back to the grimy part of the city where he came from, but something about his speech gave Eijirou pause. He’s never met a man as bold and bitter as Katsuki, and the abrupt change in perspective is baffling to him.

- Katsuki holds his chin up high following an ominous warning to “keep that spoiled little brat with the silver spoon you’ll shove in its mouth under close supervision” before he finally takes his leave.

- Eijirou soon forgets this strange encounter, as a few months later his new sister is born. Eijirou takes on a lot of the responsibility - feeding and changing and wholeheartedly enthusiastic to learn the ins-and-outs of parenting. He’s seen the amount of stress the pregnancy had on his mother, and he wants to help, so he offers that they go on a vacation and leave the baby with him.

- Unwilling to leave their infant with their teen son, the Kirishima’s hire a nanny service to help with the upkeep. Eijirou knows it’s rude not to like someone based on prejudice, but he’s got an uneasy feeling about Himiko Toga. He can’t pinpoint exactly what it is. She’s fairly sweet upon first introductions and seems capable enough, but Eijirou can’t really figure out that look in her eyes whenever she’s holding his sister, like she’s thinking about darting out the door and taking off with her or something just as silly.

- That dumb street boy must have really gotten in his head.

- Reluctant to leave his sister in the care of a stranger, but knowing that Eijirou has errands to run and that letting a random sitter take his parent’s credit cards probably wouldn’t be a very smart idea, he takes the plunge and sets off into town for the day to gather supplies and puts Himiko in charge.

- As he’s leaving the grocer, he stumbles across Katsuki again, who is being forcefully removed from a convenient shop down the street while a portly man reprimands him for stealing, barking out a stern “get a fucking job, street rat!” before slamming the door in his face. Katsuki flips the guy off and continues on his way with hardly a pause, and Eijirou knows that he’ll merely move onto the next place as his sharp red eyes are already searching for a new target.

- “Are you hungry?” Eijirou asks as he falls into step beside him. “I could get you something from the grocer!”

- “Don’t need your damn handouts, rich boy,” Katsuki is adamant to inform him that he doesn’t need any help.

- Eijirou is perplexed by this refusal. He’d just watched him get thrown out of a store and yet Katsuki’s confidence could have fooled the most common of men into believing he were the descent of some royal lineage.

- Still, Eijirou is just as stubborn as he is, maybe even more so. He can’t help but let it eat away at him; his family has lots of money to spare, he wouldn’t mind paying for some groceries, honest! But Katsuki is shrewd and proud... and yet oh-so very easily manipulated.

- Eijirou tells him that he’s looking a little on the skinny side, so he must not be very good at living on his own. Katsuki takes immediate offense to this statement and takes Eijirou around town as though to prove him wrong, showing him parts of the city that Eijirou has only heard about in books, taking him through the slums where a large portion of people greet Katsuki like family despite the cold shoulder he gives them in return.

- It’s clear that he’s done a lot for the community, in his own hot-headed ways. Teaching the young girls living in poverty how to properly defend themselves, sharing scarce food with whoever he comes across who looks like they haven’t gotten enough for themselves, standing up against the rich and the wretched who like to look their noses down on them for their misfortunes.

- Even with his hardened exterior, Eijirou is surprised to find just how warm a presence Katsuki can be. How freeing it is to wander the city and live without order or rules or a clock to keep track of time. It’s a liberating sensation to skinny-dip in the harbor despite all of the signs telling them that they weren’t allowed to, and to sneak into the junk yard to sit in an old muscle car listening to music, and to visit some wholesome family kitchens where they were treated to an array of new samples after it’s revealed that the owners knew Katsuki when he was just a baby - long before his mother was arrested and his father became the shell of the man he used to be - and they’ve always made it a priority to feed him whenever he happened to meander unknowingly into their neighborhood.

- Eijirou sees his beloved city through a brand new lens, and he likes what he sees. Musutafu has never looked more enticing and adventurous than it had been that night.

- Katsuki offers to walk Eijirou back to his ‘big ole mansion’ under the guise of added protection. “You’ll be fuckin’ mugged if you walk around lookin’ like that at this hour.”

- Eijirou thinks they might kiss once they reach the gate to his property, but he can sense the tension settling in Katsuki’s shoulders as they get closer to the abode, and a bitterness starts to grow on his face that chills the warmth they had begun to grow between them. Eijirou decides to ask him about what he meant when he said that they should keep a close eye on his sister after her birth, but Katsuki is evasive and avoids his gaze and doesn’t give him a straight answer.

- He’s hiding something, he knows more than he’s letting on.

- Eijirou tells him that there’s going to be a party at the Kirishima Mansion that weekend to celebrate the birth of his sister, and invites him to come for the food.

- Katsuki tells him not to hold his breath and leaves without another look back.

- Eijirou worries that he might have upset him somehow and goes back into town a few days later to try and find him, but even the family kitchen comments that they haven’t seen him around lately. He begins to think the worst until he meets Camie and Shouto, two teens from equally wealthy families who visit the Kirishima Mansion with their parents on the day of the party to meet the baby.

- As it turns out, both Camie and Shouto know Katsuki from school. Apparently, the Bakugous used to be pretty well-known and were fairly respected in the fashion industry before his mother’s very public meltdown and the destruction of the Bakugou legacy.

- Shouto explains how he used to attend lessons with Katsuki at the university, studying under their apprenticeship program, and how he has always had a raging temper, but that his dedication to his studies and resilience in his training were both very admirable traits. He’d dare even go as far to say that they were friends, at one point in time.

- Camie’s intel, on the other hand, is far more risqué and full of gossip.

- She tells Eijirou about how Katsuki was “a lone wolf who couldn’t tell you the definition of the word lonely,” hinting at a promiscuous past filled with midnight escapades of sneaking off campus to drink and roam around the city with whoever had fallen head-over-heels for his aloof charisma that month. She describes how he draws people in with the promise of mystery, and leaves them behind when his true aggressive nature is revealed after any amount of prolonged exposure.

- She should know, of course. She’s been there and done that before.

- ‘you can never tell when he’ll show up’ / ‘he gives you plenty of trouble’ / ‘I guess he’s just a no count pup’ / ‘but I wish that he were double’

- The overwhelming consensus is that Katsuki may have had a bright future at one point but, as Shouto comments, “Some are just luckier than others, and Bakugou’s luck ran out long ago.”

- Camie mentions Shouto’s older brother who went down a similar path, and Shouto’s only response to that is, “You can’t really save someone who doesn’t want to be saved...”

- As the party winds down and the guests start to leave, Eijirou can’t help but think about Katsuki. He’s a little put off to know that the day they had spent together in the city probably wasn’t the only round-trip adventure that Katsuki has gone on. He doesn’t even want to know how many others there have been, and he feels somewhat foolish for thinking that there was anything more between them than that.

- That night after all the guests are gone, Katsuki shows up in the back gardens.

- Eijirou doesn’t understand why he waited so long, and Katsuki explains how ‘those people’ wouldn’t want him there anyway and that it’s for the best. Eijirou is still a little jaded about everything he had learned from Shouto and Camie, and he tells Katsuki that he doesn’t have the time to be messing around with guys who don’t take him seriously and who don’t know how to take responsibility for themselves.

- Katsuki looks like he wants to say something, but instead he ends up leaving in a furious huff, and Eijirou believes that it’s the last time he’ll probably ever see him. He tries to remember Katsuki’s earlier words.

- It’s for the best.

- Even though it doesn’t really feel like it is.

- Unable to sleep in the middle of the night, Eijirou goes to check on his sister in her crib only to find that Himiko has invited two men over to the mansion; Dabi and Tomura. Eijirou catches them red-handed in the parlor as they’re attempting to steal valuable family heirlooms and making a plan to kidnap the baby for ransom later.

- Eijirou fights with everything he has in him to stop them, but it’s three against one and he never really stood a chance. Himiko disappears upstairs to grab the baby while Dabi and Tomura deal with Eijirou, brandishing knives without any intentions of holding back.

- Katsuki arrives after breaking in through the kitchen, having kept tabs on the growing rumors around the city that a group of assholes were planning on kidnapping the baby girl, and he helps Eijirou fight off Dabi and Tomura, who escape into the night with Himiko when it’s obvious that their attempt has failed.

- The police arrive on the scene shortly after, and it’s Katsuki who takes the hit in the fallout of everything, arrested for petty theft and breaking & entering despite Eijirou’s adamant arguing against it.

- The police aren’t interested in hearing his side of the story, though.

- One act of kindness doesn’t expunge a man of several years worth of crime.

- Katsuki is taken into custody and shipped off to the station, and Eijirou is left behind to clean up the mess and tend to his sister.

- When his parents fly back into the city the next morning following the news of the attempted kidnapping, Eijirou recounts the events of the past week to them, and shortly after their arrival from the airport they go to the station together to pay off Katsuki’s bail.

- Katsuki is resistant at first, unfamiliar with this type of treatment and reluctant to accept it, but Eijirou tells him how grateful he is that he had been there that night, and believes that everyone deserves a second chance, even someone as jagged and prickly as Katsuki.

- The Kirishimas make a few sizeable donations to the city and the family kitchen from before in Katsuki’s honor, boasting about his heroicism and how their family is indebted to him, and Katsuki finds himself back in their neighborhood more often than not to attend cookouts and charity events.

- He still feels out of place in their fancy home, and he’s not so great with Eijirou’s sister, but he tries to make an effort, he works hard to make the most of it, and Eijirou would never ask anything more from him than that.

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avatarmerida · 3 years

Text

Walking Home

This is inspired by @buggachat’s Bakery AU. I hope this is okay because I love this idea so much and I loved the winery arc. I wrote this assuming Adrien also lives at the bakery, though I don’t know.

——————————————————————————

“Okay no, no first of all they did NOT kick us out because I spilled. But IF did they did then that’s your fault!” Marinette exclaimed as the four of them left the restaurant.

“I didn’t mean that time,” clarified a bubbly Adrien as he ran ahead. “I meant when you kept turning the glasses into microphones and trying to get everyone to sing when they were still pretty full.”

“No! No! No!” she insisted, running up to him and giving him a gently tap on shoulder. “It was because you kept making chicken noises and they were awful!”

“They were amazing.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever heard a chicken,” she said smugly as she attempted to suppress her laughter at the memory. “It was so high pitched.”

“Bawk bawk bawk,” said Adrien quietly. Seeing Marinette suppress more laughter, he kept going and got louder. She couldn’t stand still, the laughter causing her to bend in half unable to catch her breath. Making her laugh was somehow so addicting and so he kept doing the awful chicken noise, getting higher and louder and faster. Passerbys gave them strange looks and rolled their eyes. Alya couldn’t help but smile at the thought that everyone who saw them must assume they were lifelong friends. Maybe even more than that.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize how late it was,” announced Alya, pretending to check her phone. She was fairly certain the two forgot her and Nino were there. “Ugh, I’ve got an interview scheduled for the blog at 8am.”

“Yeah and I’ve got to wake her up otherwise she’ll never get there on time,” added Nino with a laugh, catching on quickly. Adrien and Marinette snapped out of their bubble, seeing suddenly how ridiculous they must seem.

“We should do this again soon though,” said Alya. “All of us,” she added, looking at Adrien.

“Yeah, this was fun,” said Marinette, sneaking a glance at Adrien (though he didn’t notice) before turning back to Alya. “Are you okay to get home?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna grab a taxi,” said Alya. “What about you two? Are you okay? You didn’t switch to water when Nino and I did.”

“That was water? I thought you guys just switched to white wine,” asked Adrien. Nino chuckled and handed Adrien his phone so the two could make plans to hang out later in the week.

While the boys talked, Alya pullled Marinette into a hug to supposedly say goodbye.

“No girl, for real are you okay to get home? We can drop you off,” she whispered.

“No it’s okay you guys live the opposite way and you need to get up early,” whispered Marinette back. “The bakery isn’t that far and It’s not like I’m walking alone.”

“Exactly,” said Alya, pulling away but making sure the boys were too distracted by their conversation to hear theirs. “I know tonight was fun but you didn’t start the day being Adrien’s biggest fan. You’re okay walking home with him?”

“Yes Alya I’m fine,” she hiccuped. “I’m not even that drunk.”

“Marinette!” Adrien called suddenly, very excited. “Can we make pizza at the bakery?!”

“Oh my god pizzaaaaaa!” She exclaimed far too loudly, throwing her hands in the air. “Yes, yes let’s go! Bye Alya!”

She ran ahead and Adrien excitedly and instinctively followed her, the two a collection of giggle and hiccups stumbling between the street lights.

“Text me when you get home!” Alya called after the pair. They were quite a sight. She couldn’t help but smile at the fact that this morning Marinette couldn’t say his name without grimacing and now they were rushing off into the night. She wondered how Marinette would feel about the blonde boy tomorrow.

“Pizza, pizza, pizza!” The two exclaimed as they trudged down the sidewalk.

“Okay I know we have dough and cheese I don’t know if we have any pizza sauce,” said Marinette raking her brain. “Do we want toppings? Because I think we just have sprinkles, maybe we-ahhh!” Suddenly the ground came rushing at her, but before she had time to process what was happening she was stopped inches from the pavement. She looked up and saw Adrien had caught her in the knick of time. His hands were on her waist as if he was dipping her in a some eleaborate dance. The streetlight above him reflected on his golden hair like a halo.

He really was a good model, she couldn’t help but think as she found herself drawn to his light like an innocent moth.

“Sorry,” he said realizing the position they were in. “Force of habit, I guess. I didn’t mean, I mean I-.”

“Don’t apologize,” she breathed, not attempting to remove herself from his grip. “You’ve just got like catlike reflexes.”

“Yeah, I maybe??” He laughed. He couldn’t even explain her own pun to her as he pulled her to her feet. “Hehe, uh sorry if I distracted you again.”

“No, no it’s my own fault, I’m extra clumsy when I’m drunk,” she explained, bashful suddenly for some reason. “I’m a regular public menace. But thanks for not letting me fall on my face.”

He smiled. “Anytime,” he stood up straight and offered her his arm. “To ensure you don’t fall again,” he explained.

The logic of his reasoning negated any objections her former view of him held at the ready. He didn’t have to be kind to her when it was just them, and this must be why she held onto his arm so firmly and allowed herself to be so close as they walked. She suddenly felt guilty for her ulterior motives in inviting him out. The skeptic in her wanted to point out that maybe he was faking being drunk, or was so well versed at deception that alcohol had no affect on his ability to lie. But a larger part of her just wanted to rest her head on his shoulder as he led her home, contently listening to him ramble.

“Okay but why isn’t pizza a pastry?” he continued. “Like a lot of baked goods have cheese, they all have dough. Is it the sauce? But donuts have filling and the tomato is a fruit, I think-?”

“Maybe pizza can be your menu speciality,” she murmured, following the voice that told her to rest her head. “But you can give it a fun name and make it look different so they won’t know it’s pizza until they taste it. You’d think of a good name, you’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” he asked, genuinely surprised and flattered.

“I’m drunk, who knows what I’m saying,” she joked. “I’ll deny it but yes you are funny. I like when you write puns on the specials board.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be a fan of bad puns.”

“I’ve heard worse,” she murmured, her mouth moving faster than her mind. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” he tried, trying to careful in this new territory, but fighting his catlike curiosity . “Are you a secret comedian?”

“No, no but I was in love with a boy who made puns a lot,” she said quietly, almost just to herself. “It seems so silly but now whenever I hear a good one I write it down so I don’t forget. So I can tell it to him. But I’m never gonna see him again. That’s so stupid isn’t it?”

He saw tears forming in her eyes. “I think it’s sweet,” he said. “Is he someone you meet in New York? On your internship?”

She stopped, her mind had brought up another similarly between him and Chat Noir and that was extra confusing right now. But she hadn’t had anyone to talk to about Chat and it felt nice to share something about him aloud. She had to tread carefully though.

“I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk about it,” said Adrien before she could find the words. “It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he continued, gently removing his arm from her. “You’ve already done so much for me, helping me at the bakery, letting me into your home, inviting me out tonight . You’re a very kind person Marinette and I’ve invaded so much of your space already, I shouldn’t be invading your privacy.”

“No, Adrien please it is okay,” she insisted. “I brought it up. And I... I’ve never brought it up to anyone before, to be honest. And it must be because... I like talking to you. Because-.”

“-of the wine?” He offered.

“-because we’re friends,” she finished, looking up at him with soft, truthful eyes.

“I think it is the wine,” he joked, only half certain.

“Here, I’ll prove it,” she said, keeping her purse and rummaging through its contents. Finally she found what she was searching for. “Here,” she said, placing something in his hand.

“What is this?”

“My lucky charm,” she said proudly, as he opened his hand to reveal a simple keychain composed of colorful beads. “I made it during my internship, it helped me when I had deadlines or a creativity block. I take it everywhere.”

“And you’re giving this to me?”

“Well I still plan on needing it and having it close by, so I wouldn’t just entrust it to someone I don’t want in my space would I? It’s probably not as flashy as the friendship bracelets Chloe made you but-.”

She was cut off as Adrien pulled her into a tight embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She hesitated, but returned the gesture. “You’re welcome,” she said as the two stood in the middle of the sidewalk, embracing for probably a little too long. “Adrien, since we’re friends, I think I should be honest with you.”

He pulled back to face her, his face still holding a smile despite her dismal tone. “What is it?”

“Today, when I invited you...” she began, her pride almost too big a pill to swallow. “Well, I had ulterior motives for inviting you.”

“Really?”

“I thought, oh god I’m so embarrassed,” she pushed through. “I though you had ... a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yes,” she buried her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed. “Ugh, and I thought it you got drunk enough you would blurt it out. And that’s so awful of me and I know it’s dishonest, but I promise you it’s not like that anymore. I was paranoid, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m so sorry. really do enjoy spending time with you-.”

“What kind of secret?”

“Huh?” She said, surprised he wasn’t mad. “Oh, i-it doesn’t matter. It was still wrong of me.”

“Well why couldn’t you ask me about it before?”

“I didn’t have any sort of proof,” she admitted. “Only a hunch.”

“Why?” He asked. He wasn’t mad but she couldn’t place his tone. People must have accused him of this before. She knew now he wasn’t his father, he was more than whatever his past held, and he didn’t deserve another faker. She knew he’d ask what she suspected and it would ruin everything but maybe she could make it less awful if she kept apologizing?

“Nothing major, just because of how you acted around me-.”

“I see.”

“-but I know now I was completely wrong,” she quickly went on. “Getting to know you tonight and spending more time with you at the bakery, I know I was wrong.”

“Oh,” was that all he could say? Oh?!

“Because you’re just so nice!” She went on, her drunk brain turning to rambling. “You’re actually a really great guy, and you’re just quiet at first, you’re ... a friend...”

“Just a friend?” He asked, the word holding his attention tight.

“Yes,” she said, hoping he was considering accepting her apology. “And I- oh darn it.” Suddenly, a raindrop fell onto Marinette’s cheek. Then another. Without warning the sky began to pour, and the pair sought shelter. Adrien took off his jacket and placed it over Marinette’s head to attempt and shield her from the rain, a fruitless attempt as the jacket immediately became soaked and heavy and helpful to no one.

As they made their way through the waterfall that claimed the sidewalk, an abandoned umbrella leaning against a building caught Adrien’s eye. He swooped in to grab and quickly opened it over Marinette’s head. “Ugh, I can’t see,” she cried, the rain causing her eye makeup to run and sting her eyes. She wiped it away, only to smudge it and give cover her face with a charcoal color. Adrien laughed.

“Mademoiselle Hamster, you look more like a raccoon now,” he wheezed. Before Marinette could offer a clever response, she saw the rain continued to fall on him as she was safely covered.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” she stated angrily.

“It’s not a very big umbrella,” he said, still laughing.

“Nonsense,” she said, yanking the umbrella handle to spin him in. “I’m not about to let you get sick and stick me with all the work at the bakery.”

But the umbrella was very small. And in order for them both to be covered, they had to stand very close together.

“Fine by me,” breathed Adrien, looking down at Marinette. She stood in front of him, her hands landing instinctively on his chest as if they were slow dancing. She was aware of this, but did not remove them. Her eyes went to the ground, not being about to handle the closeness with eye contact. In one hand Adrien held the umbrella, the other one slowly went to removed a strand of wet hair from her face. A bolt of lighting graced the sky.

“You were right you know,” he said quietly, the rain almost drowning him out.

“About what?”

“About my secret,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought I hid it well, but I guess I made it really obvious.”

“What?” Said Marinette, looking up at him is disbelief, her hands trembled. “No, no you’re still drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. No, no I know now... after everything that happened it can’t be true.”

“Do you... not want it to be true?”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter what I want,” she admitted, bowing her head again. “Either it’s true or it’s not.”

“I promise you, it’s very true,” said Adrien, his voice softer than she had ever heard but somehow insanely familiar. He placed his free hand under her chin and lead her to meet his gaze.

“Wait, what did you think I-.”

“Marinette, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more direct with you,” he began. “But I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again since... you’re so amazing and I- I’m done keeping secrets; I do have feelings for you.”

“W-what kind of feelings?” she asked, a tiny portion of her intoxicated little mind convinced he was angry with her.

Adrien closed his eyes and leaned in close to her and his lips stopped mere inches from her own. Hesitating. Waiting. Silence. She looked at him, no streetlight caught his hair now but the shine remained. The glow was just him. He wasn’t a spy, he wasn’t a traitor, he wasn’t a villain. Her mind ran with things he was not until suddenly she realized what he was. Kind. Handsome. Funny. Charming. She had taken these things for granted before and thought they were lost and locked away forever. It was like they were reincarnated, her heart fluttered in an nearly forgotten familiar way as if to say she had been here before. As if to say this is exactly where she was meant to be.

Lighting crashed in the distance.

She chased the feeling and eliminated the space between them, drawn to him like he was magnetic. She could could blame it on the wine. She could blame it on the rain. She could blame it on the way his eyes were so gentle and vibrant at the same time like a lush green forest she wanted to explore until she was hopelessly lost. But she crashed into him like a she was a tidal wave, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. He stepped back, surprised but pleased and tossed aside the umbrella in favor of having both his arms around her as he eagerly kissed her back. He lifted her off the ground, perhaps a little too overzealous, and the pair found themselves on the ground in the middle of a puddle. Only then did they break apart, like a dream they were rudely awakened from, and Marinette found herself laying on top of him.

Adrien looked at her, eyes wide and curious, awaiting a sign of how she felt. Even now, with her eyeliner smudged and her hair soaking wet, his heart skipped a beat in way it hadn’t done in years. What was she thinking? Should he say something? His mind raced with what to say next, he had imagined this confession thousands of times since he realized his feelings, but none of his scenarios went quite like this. He didn’t want to risk ruining anything, if there was even something to ruin. He played the last minute over and over in his head like a romantic film scene. He smiled a wide smile and if Marintee didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he was purring.

Marinette took that as her signal to lean forward, slower and more graceful than the first attempt and kissed him again. It was less rushed and more gentle, but also more certain. The umbrella was carried away by the wind, the two seemed to have forgotten about the rain or any storms between them.

The next day, Marinette awoke feeling sicker than she had ever felt in her life. Not only did she have a massive hangover, but being stuck in the rain had given her a terrible cold as well. Her body couldn’t decide which unpleasant feeling to focus on so she remained in bed, cursing the world.

“Hey girl,” came Alya’s voice from the doorway. “Heard you weren’t feeling too good.”

“Alya I’m dying,” moaned Marinette.

“Were you so busy dying that you couldn’t text me that you go home safely?” laughed Alya, removing the pillow from her face. “Omigosh you didn’t even wash your face last night. You really were trashed.”

“Ugh I don’t even remember it raining last night, but I woke up soaked,” complained Marinette.

“Wait, you don’t remember it raining?”

“No, after we said goodbye to you and Nino the night it a total blur.”

“Oh, does Adrien remember the rain?”

“I don’t know, we don’t talk,” Marinette reminded her, covering her head with a blanket. “I don’t know what I said to him on the walk home, but my throat is killing me so it feels like I was yelling.

“Wait, you don’t remember anything from the walk home?”

“No,” repeated Marinette. “Why? Did I drunk dial you or something?”

“Uh, no,” said Alya with a mischievous smile. “But when it started to rain I told the cab driver to drive by your place to see if you guys got caught in the rain and I’m so glad I did because I saw something very interesting.”

“What?”

Alya simply handed Marinette her phone and braced herself for the reaction she knew was coming. Marinettte had to do a double take at first. But there was no mistaking this was a picture of her. And Adrien. Kissing.

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed, giving herself a worse headache. “Ouch. Ugh, Alya please tell me this is photoshopped, this is a joke right?”

“Not this time, I am an eyewitness,” assured her friend. “I saw everything.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe he kissed me,”

“Well you shouldn’t because if you go back a little bit you see it’s clear as day who kissed whom,”

“What?” But it was true. She swiped back and forth and there was no arguing that she pulled him in, she reached up, she kissed him. Twice. “Oh no.”

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” said Alya taking back her phone. “If kissing a former model in the rain is the worst thing you’ve done after drinking, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t see why you don’t like him anyway, you two got along so well yesterday.”

“Oh no no no I just thought it was another dream!”panicked Marinette.

“Another?” Teased Alya. “So you often dream about kissing Adrien?”

Only when he’s working with his supervillain father “I’m never drinking again,” vowed Marinette, burying her head in her hands. “Please tell me no one else saw those photos.”

“Just me and Nino, but I’m keeping them for blackmail,” confirmed Alya as she headed for the door. “Or to show at your wedding.”

Marinette threw a pillow at the door, just missing her friend as she took her leave. What had gotten into her? Besides copious amounts of wine, that is. She prayed that Adrien’s memory of last night was even foggier than hers. She wished she had Tikki with her to talk her through this without any judgment but she just had her. And all she could do was panic.

“Hey, are you up?” Came a small voice accompanied by a knock on her door. “I just saw Alya leave and I wanted to check on you if that’s okay.”

It was Adrien. “Um yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess,” she replied. He didn’t come in, she didn’t invite him. He was still wary of her. That must be as good sign, right?

“A headache?” He chuckled knowingly. “I had one too. I made a smoothie and that kind of helped. I can bring you one. Or leave it in the kitchen for you.”

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. Silence stood between them for what felt like hours.

“Listen, about last night,” Adrien said at last. Marinette braced herself for the worst.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say thank you,” he said outside the door. “It meant a lot, you guys inviting me out. I had a lot of fun, well the parts I remember anyway.”

“Do you... remember walking home?”

“Hardly,” he admitted. “Apparently it rained?”

She laughed. “Go figure,” she said. She cousins sent he was right: she did enjoy the parts she remembered. “But um thank you too for helping me get home safely. You’re a good friend.”

The sound of the word made him blush, he was grateful she couldn’t see his face. “Anytime,” he said. “Feel better, I guess I’ll see you later?”

“See ya,” she said, as she heard him walk away from the door and flopped on her bed in relief. Crisis averted.

Adrien made his way down the stairs, Marinette’s keychain in hand. The moments of last night replayed in his head. It was blurry to him as well, but a few moments stood out to him. Mostly, the way she said ‘lucky charm’ and the way her smudged makeup resembled a mask.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous #bakery enemies au #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #ladynoir

146 notes · View notes

seokstrivia · 3 years

Text

And So It Begins | jhs

✽ Summary: You thought you had missed your chance, but you’re just an idiot and Hoseok is bad at communicating

Or, Hoseok lets you know he’s single

✽ Teacher AU | word count: 6.1k

✽ Jung Hoseok x Reader: fluff, angst, friends to lovers, implicated cheating, but no cheating, pining, slow burn, hoseok is soft, namjoon is your brother and jungkook is a child with taehyung, including a lot of frustration

A/N i havent wrote in ages, but i hope this one is as enjoyable as it was when writing it! please let me know what you all think and thank you for reading<3

The sun was bright as it shone through the orange-coloured leaves. It was warmer than usual, even though the air was still crisp. Your classroom was brightly lit by the natural light seeping through the wide-ranging windows, accompanied by the sound of children playing outside.

A sigh parted your lips as you continued to mark the tests you had handed out that morning. The complaints and whines from your students were still buzzing in your ears making you smile. You loved your students; they were always so full of life and eager to learn.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” a familiar voice drew you out of your trance.

Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. A colleague— a fellow teacher you had been working with for almost three years. He was sweet, always knew what he was doing and was always so helpful.

“I am in a good mood, thank you,” you answered with a cheeky smile.

He returned the smile with a fond gaze in his eyes, talking to you always cheered him up. Just seeing you seemed to lighten his day, and you would’ve thought or felt the same if he didn’t have a girlfriend.

It was your own fault; you missed the chance to go on a date with him because you were sick and busy grading papers. However, what made it worse was that you couldn’t even hate the girl he was with because she was so sweet to everyone.

Two-faced as fuck, but you had yet to witness it.

“Do you want to have lunch with me?” He asked, shyly.

Another smile made its way to your lips as your eyes made contact with his. A red hue accommodated his cheeks while he waited for a response. It was easy to say yes to him, easy to give in and have lunch as friends and nothing more. But when he was with the woman he was with, then it wasn’t that easy or simple even.

“I’ll have to get back to you. I think Mr Park and I are having a meeting,” you told him.

The way the smile fell from his lips made you feel so guilty. You weren’t lying but it wasn’t the truth either, Mr Park, better known as Jimin, wanted to meet you after school not during lunch.

“I’m sorry,” you added before he could leave.

Hoseok seemed to avoid you after asking you to lunch, Jimin didn’t seem too pleased with you lying to him. It seemed like he told Hoseok the plan was to meet after school hours.

It was your own fault for lying and beating around the bush. More so, it was childish and immature, you could’ve just said yes like you wanted to and then dealt with his girlfriend later.

Too late now. You sighed.

“Parents evening is coming up,” Namjoon said trying to lighten the dull mood.

He was a single dad to a beautiful girl; he was also your older brother who seemed to know every little thing about you.

“Did Yerin remind you?” You smiled.

Namjoon shook his head in full offence, “I remembered by myself,” he berated like a small child. “I have a good memory.”

You chuckled at the scowl on his face making him smile in return. The atmosphere did lighten up thanks to your brother, and the sour memory of Hoseok avoiding you was quickly forgotten about as the night went on.

“So… has she been a good girl?” He asked quietly.

The coffee on your desk was getting cold, but that was the last of your worries. One of the students in your class was beginning to slack in terms of homework.

You weren’t one to tell children off for not doing their allocated work at home, especially when you never did yours as a child. However, it was worrying when the smartest kid in class was falling behind.

Hence why, when the end of the day bell rang, you were quick to call him over before he could leave. There was a sad look in his eyes and you instantly knew something was wrong.

The talk with your student went on longer than you anticipated, but when he told you how he felt and what was going on, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop talking.

He trusted you.

“Is it ok if I call your dad and speak to him?” You asked, carefully.

Jungkook slowly nodded his head, his eyes were brighter as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, miss!” He beamed as he left the classroom.

A sigh of relief parted your lips as you watched him run towards his dad. The clouds were grey and dull, but that didn’t seem to faze the two standing outside, and when it started raining, the smiles on their faces only seemed to grow wider.

When Namjoon called you that night to see how you were doing, you were more than happy to tell him you were doing great.

After that, things seemed to be going well until you ran into Hoseok. He was holding two small boxes of art materials and was out of breath from running down the flight of stairs.

It was awkward but at the same time it wasn’t, just because you didn’t speak to each other anymore, didn’t mean you were now nothing but strangers.

At the end of the day, you were both adults and he was your colleague. One little mistake shouldn’t ruin what you two had, hence why an apology was in order and maybe lunch to make up for things.

“Would you like some help, Hoseok?” You offered with a smile.

Hoseok seemed hesitant at first, but he nodded his head, answering with a short, ‘yes, please.’ You took the box on top before following him to his classroom, it was now or never.

After placing the box on his desk, you turned around to face him. There was still a friendly smile on your lips, but he could tell you had something to say.

Hoseok was different from your other friends, he was sweeter than honey and brighter than the sun. He was careful with his words and actions, more so, he was loyal.

“I’m sorry for lying to you. I hope I can make it up to you by… maybe… buying you lunch?” You offered.

The way his face lit up at your words caused your heart to jump to your throat. This would’ve been so much easier if you didn’t have feelings for him.

“I’d love that, y/n,” he beamed.

You returned the smile before telling him to text you a day and time. That night, you went home with a light heart and skip in your step.

“Auntie, are you ever going to find a boyfriend?” Your niece asked you.

Namjoon choked on his chicken, eyes wide in surprise, he never thought his daughter would ask such a question. But you didn’t seem surprised, instead, you laughed in response and sent her a wink.

He wasn’t sure what that meant, but Yerin seemed to like the answer since she winked in return.

Namjoon sighed, girls were a mystery.

“Does Yerin know something I don’t?” your brother asked while washing the dishes.

You retired your chin on your hand while you watched him. He was bound to drop a plate or glass soon, it just meant you would need to finish off the dishes and clean his mess.

“I’m not going to drop anything tonight,” he declared while turning his head around.

There was a frown on his face as he glared at you, and It reminded you of the times your mum would tell you off or the times she would shout at Namjoon for breaking something.

“Do you remember when mum would get us in trouble for silly things, like laughing?” You reminisced.

Namjoon chuckled in return as he nodded his head. Of course, he remembered. While raising his daughter he’d come to learn that he was very much like his mum.

“I got Yerin in trouble for whistling the other night,” he snorted making you laugh.

“Mum would be so proud of you, Namjoon.”

He gazed at you with so much parent-like love, “and you.”

The rest of the night was spent looking through old albums and laughing at embarrassing photos while drinking wine and wishing time would slow down.

Winter was right around the corner; nights were colder, and the days were shorter. Now school was the last thing on children’s minds as they spoke about Christmas, and what they wanted from Santa Clause.

You smiled as you listened to your students talk about candy canes and finding the perfect Christmas tree. It reminded you of the times you would go sledging with Namjoon and have snowball fights with Yoongi.

“Miss, what are you doing on Christmas?” Taehyung urged with eagerness.

His question seemed to pique interest in the whole class as they had stopped colouring in. Their eyes were shining under the bright lights as they waited for you to answer his question. Truth be told, you didn’t have an answer. Well, you didn’t have one that would satisfy their minds or excite them further.

“She’s having dinner with me.”

The girls squealed at Hoseok’s’ answer while the boys sniggered to themselves. You playfully shook your head while asking them to quieten down so you could speak to Mr Jung. They were quick to do as they were told, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try to listen to your conversation or watch on with eager eyes.

“What can I do for you?” You greeted as you approached him.

“I don’t know if you remember, but you offered to buy me lunch,” he stated.

The few giggles heard behind you made you laugh to yourself easing your racing heart. You didn’t think he’d take the proposal since it’d taken him almost a month to get back to you.

“You’re right, I did offer,” you nodded.

“How’s Friday? I know it’s late but—“

“Friday is fine,” you cut him off before he could apologise or give an excuse for why he’d taken so long to get back to you.

His smile was contagious enough to make your class smile. But it wasn’t enough to make you forget about his girlfriend, the one woman you were trying to stay clear of.

It was when you were walking to your car you felt a hand on your shoulder. There was a strong feeling in your gut telling you not to turn around, but you still did.

And there she was.

“Hi Irene, can I help you?” You inquired politely.

She shook her head while slipping her hand into her pocket. Her long eyelashes fluttered over her tinted cheeks as she blinked. She was annoyingly very, very, pretty.

“I know you’re getting lunch with my boyfriend. So, I am only here to remind you that he is taken, and he’s mine,” she told you.

You were slightly taken aback by her strong demeanour, but it was a given that this would occur. You even had nightmares about it.

“I’m not going to steal him from you. He wouldn’t cheat on anyone and I would never do that to anyone,” you replied, trying to remain calm.

There was a smirk on her lips as she flicked her hair over her shoulder and fixed the scarf around her neck.

“As if he would want you anyways.”

The snicker that followed her words, in the process of her turning around and leaving, caused a heavy shiver to shoot up your spine.

You had a bad feeling about this.

Namjoon was rambling on about how Yoongi and Jin kept arguing about shoes when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You weren’t shocked to see multiple texts from Jimin but when you saw Hoseok's’ name, you felt yourself stop breathing.

A part of you knew it was a text to cancel plans, you didn’t want to believe it, but you knew. So, when you opened the message to read the text, you weren’t surprised.

However, you were disappointed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Namjoon urged, softly.

You shook your head in reply and shoved your phone in your pocket. There were two ways to deal with this 1) to become really angry and never talk to Hoseok again, or 2) pretend you’re ok and move on.

He wasn’t single anyways; he was just a friend.

“Nothing, it’s just Jimin and his workload,” you lied while keeping a small smile on your lips so he wouldn’t worry.

Namjoon didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question you further either. If you wanted to talk, you would and he, of all people, knew that.

Still, at this point, option number one seemed to be better than the one you picked. But, at the end of the day, you were an adult with a full-time job.

And it sucked.

“I wish I wasn’t at home sick the day Hoseok asked me to dinner,” you voiced. “We wouldn’t be playing this stupid game and I wouldn’t have missed my chance.”

Namjoon remorsefully shook his head and hauled you in for a hug. He was quick to kiss your forehead and rub your back in comfort.

“If all these thoughts are coming from Jimin’s workload, you better ask him to stop messaging you,” he joked trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work of course, but it did bring a genuine smile to your lips. Hoseok would always be just a friend, and that was something you had to accept.

The very next day you were back at work, and so far, it seemed to be going okay considering you’d yet to come across Hoseok. However, for whatever reason, it seemed like he was avoiding you.

…Which was fine since you didn’t really want to talk to him, even though it was kind of childish…

“Auntie, I forgot my lunch,” a small voice spoke making you smile.

You felt the need to coo at your niece for being so adorable, but that would embarrass her, and then you would never hear the end of it.

“Come here, your dad texted me this morning. I picked up your favourite sandwich and drink at the supermarket before coming to work,” you grinned seeing her eyes shine at the sight of food.

“Thanks, Auntie!”

Yerin was quick to hop into a chair at one of the many desks in the room and eat her lunch. She would chat with you almost after every bite and tell you about her day like she would at home.

It was nice having company… maybe you should ask Jimin to meet you for lunch, it does get a bit lonely sometimes.

“Mr Park said he has a someone special,” Yerin voiced with a mouth full of food. “He said she works here.”

You rolled your eyes at the little girl; she was just as bad as her dad.

“Yerin-ah, you were supposed to eat the sandwich, not destroy it.”

She giggled in response while hopping off her seat, “thank you, auntie! I’ll see you at home time.”

You watched her throw her trash in the bin before running out of the room. It made you feel a little sad to see her leave, but there was nothing you could do about that.

“Hey, you,” Jimin beamed when you stepped into his class.

He was marking papers, something you should’ve been doing too, but you didn’t want to sit alone anymore.

“Let’s get dinner,” you proposed just as you stood in front of his desk.

The sun was setting behind Jimin producing golden hues. It made the room look different, more intriguing rather than dull and boring. Jimin stood up and stepped around his desk after reaching for his coat. He must’ve agreed to your suggestion because he was already walking towards the door.

“What are you waiting for?”

His smile made his eyes disappear, and it made you laugh to yourself as you remembered him complaining about how he couldn’t see whenever you made him smile.

Jimin was a good friend, he always would be.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

When you invited Jimin to dinner, you didn’t think he would invite Hoseok and his… girlfriend. It’s not like this was a double date, more so, you just didn’t want to speak to them.

The sun had set long ago, the stars were shining, and the moon long replaced the sun. A sigh parted your lips as you felt cold air seep through your coat. Maybe you could cancel last minute and go home. They would understand since you took care of Yerin a lot when Namjoon worked.

Another sigh left your lips.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked with concerned eyes.

You smiled at him and nodded your head. He must’ve known you were lying, or you’re just a really bad liar because he was quick to pull you aside.

Why were you so easy to read?

“Is it because I invited Hoseok?” He questioned further.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s really immature but I just— I can’t,” you told him.

What you said didn’t make sense, but Jimin seemed to understand.

“Let’s go somewhere else. Wait here.”

You watched him step towards the couple, watched him take Hoseok aside and tell him he was taking you somewhere else. Hoseok’s smile fell as his gaze met yours, he didn’t question further but you knew he wanted to.

Jimin didn’t say anything when he led you out of the restaurant. He didn’t say anything when he ordered the food. He didn’t say anything when he paid for the bill.

You were thankful that he didn’t pry into your mind, to be honest, you didn’t have an answer yourself. Maybe you were jealous of Irene or maybe you hated yourself for not trying with Hoseok.

It was too late now anyway.

“Thank you for dinner, Jimin,” you beamed. “And for taking me somewhere else.”

He shyly shook his head, eyes small crescents as he smiled widely.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry I invited them without asking you,” he replied sheepishly.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.”

Jimin was sweet and careful with you, his touches were soft and words sincere. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be in love with him. However, in the end, you really just wanted him to find the perfect person, someone who would love him forever.

“I hope you work things out with Hoseok,” he shrugged, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You disregarded what he said. Instead, you smiled at him again and kissed his cheek before thanking him once more and letting yourself into your home.

It’s not that you didn’t want to ‘fix’ things, it’s just that you didn’t know what needed fixing. Was it miscommunication? Or were you simply overthinking everything?

Probably the latter.

“Namjoon-ah, I’m home.”

“Enjoy your Christmas break, class, and don’t forget to leave out cookies for Santa,” you winked as you dismissed your class.

They happily said goodbye while they trailed out of the room, one by one. You could see Hoseok down the corridor waving bye to his class too. It had been a while since you spoke to him, to be honest… you missed him. A lot.

He made eye contact with you before stepping back into his room. Hoseok looked good in a suit and tie. But he looked better with a smile on his face and you hadn’t seen one in a while.

A deep exhale left your lips as you pulled your phone out of your coat pocket. There were multiple texts from Jimin and a few from Namjoon; as usual.

However, there was also one from Hoseok.

From Jung Hoseok:

— I was wondering if we could talk.

— Maybe over a cup of coffee?

You were nervous. Really nervous.

To Jung Hoseok:

— Make it a hot chocolate and you have a deal.

From Jung Hoseok:

— Done ;)

Sometimes you wondered what it would feel like to belong to someone. Other times, you wondered what it would feel like to belong to Jung Hoseok.

“Thanks for meeting up with me.”

You blinked out of your daze when you heard his voice. It took you a few seconds to realise you’d reached the chosen cafe.

“It’s ok. I really needed a hot chocolate,” you chuckled nervously. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Hoseok seemed nervous, well, more nervous than you. He had a woolly scarf wrapped around his neck while a black coat engulfed his body. It made him appear smaller. Cute.

He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but he kept his gaze locked on yours. As if he was studying you, memorising your features to secure it in his memory forever.

It was a comfortable silence. Almost.

“I—Well… I wanted to talk about us,” he muttered, eyes dropping to his hands.

You nodded your head, silently prompting him to continue. However, you had a few things to say too.

“It’s just that… We used to be such good friends, and then I asked you out and everything kind of… fell apart? I don’t know,” he sighed in frustration as he thought about it. “I’m sorry if I ruined things, I just, I guess I wish you told me how you felt sooner.”

Now it was your turn to be frustrated, not only because of the obvious miscommunication between you too but also because of how stupid he was. It was almost as if he didn’t know anything.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Hoseok. I explained why I couldn’t meet you that night, I really wanted to, but I was sick,” you told him.

Hoseok seemed even more confused than before, he couldn’t get his head around what you’d just told him. Mainly because he didn’t receive a text from you that night.

“I didn’t get a text.”

That couldn’t be right. You remember sending a text to him because Namjoon told you to stay home. So, how?

“I really didn’t, y/n. If I did and if I’d known you were sick, I would’ve come to see you,” he added.

“It’s ok, I believe you. I’m just confused.”

He nodded his head in relief and finally smiled at you. Everything seemed to be making sense between you two. The only thing left to figure out was how this miscommunication occurred.

“Me too,” he chuckled breathlessly. “But it’s weird because Irene turned up out of nowhere.”

Your eyes were quick to meet his, to see how he felt about her as if you could. It was strange because he didn’t seem too pleased about the way her name rolled off his tongue.

“Are you two… like… a thing?”

It was a stupid question because everyone who worked at the school knew. But they’d all heard from Irene, that was one person. That was one side of the story, no one had ever heard anything from Hoseok.

More so, your question seemed to throw Hoseok off guard.

“We’ve never been a thing!” He suddenly argued. “Why would we be when everyone knows I like you?”

“I’m sorry! There’s no need to get angry, it’s not like it’s my fault. You never told me how you felt.”

He scoffed in annoyance while rolling his eyes, “y/n, I asked you out on a date! That’s bound to tell you something.”

You’d never seen him angry before. Hoseok didn’t even get angry at his class when they misbehaved.

“I didn’t know, okay. Irene told everyone you two were together,” you muttered under your breath.

Hoseok shook his head in disbelief, you didn’t know if he was angry at you, Irene or himself. Maybe it was your fault for believing someone like Irene. You sighed.

This wasn’t going as well as you thought it was. The guy you liked, liked you back but you were too oblivious to see that and now, now he was leaving.

You wanted to cry. Why was the universe never on your side?

To Joonie:

— Can you pick me up? Please.

From Joonie:

— I’m on my way, love

What a great start to Christmas break…

“Y/n, you need to get out of bed,” Namjoon scolded once again when he opened the door to your room.

He had been trying to get you out of bed for two days now, but you weren’t listening. A deep exhale parted his lips when he saw you pull the covers over your head.

This was ridiculous.

“What kind of example are you setting for your niece? This is not how you deal with your problems, now get up before I drag you out of bed.”

You groaned at his words and reluctantly threw the covers off when you heard him walk away.

“At least shut the door, you asshole!”

“Language!” He yelled back making you cringe.

This was not going to be a good Christmas break, and to make it worse, you still wanted to cry.

It was nearing 4pm when you finally dragged yourself out of bed. The moon had already replaced the sun, and a thick white blanket covered the city.

You felt like going back to bed and never waking up until you really needed to. But you opted for your phone instead since Namjoon was extra scary when he was in mom mode.

From Jimin:

— Text me for plans!

From Yoongi:

— I think we need to organise a horror movie night!

— But just us… if you know what I mean ;)

— Jokes… text me!

From Jung Hoseok:

— We need to talk.

From Irene:

— You made Hoseok cheat on me!

— You said you would never do that. Lying Bitch.

Wow, okay.

To Jung Hoseok:

— Screenshot sent.

You didn’t get a reply when you sent the screenshot, not even hours later. To be honest, you tried not to care.

But it was hard not to.

“Good to see you’re finally awake. Come and eat something,” Namjoon shot without giving you a second glance.

At least your brother cared about your well-being.

Christmas break was going as well as you expected it to. Most days were spent having coffee with Jimin; small outings with your friend… which he called dates. You didn’t think much of it, friends could have friend dates, right?

But then, then, after one too many coffees, he asked you to be his date to his parents Christmas party. Something about wanting to introduce his favourite person to his family. You didn’t know what it meant—what he meant, but you couldn’t say no.

Namjoon was over the moon when you told him. He said something about finally getting over a long crush and moving on. He was wrong, you weren’t moving on. The last few days had been somewhat like an out of body experience, leaving you confused and annoyed.

You don’t know what you were doing.

“Wear a nice dress for him,” Yerin voiced while she watched you raid your closet.

“I don’t have any.”

She clicked her tongue as she slid off your bed. Yerin was a sweet little girl, but sometimes you believed she was an old soul. The way she spoke or acted only proved your assumption.

“Auntie, wear the dress you were going to wear on your date with Mr Jung.”

You let her move you out of the way and observed her draw out a bag from the back of your closet. It was buried away so you would never need to see it again, not like you had anywhere to wear it anyways…

“Here,” she forced, giving you the bag.

Sometimes Yerin reminded you of your mum.

“Thanks,” you muttered, earning a smile in return.

The dress fit better than you remembered. It looked nice. Who were you kidding? It was perfect… just perfect for the wrong guy. Still, maybe dating Jimin won’t be hard.

You say that while your heart sinks at the sight of Jung Hoseok.

Jimin didn’t tell you Hoseok was invited, he didn’t tell you he would wear a black suit with a tie that somehow matched the colour of your dress, he didn’t tell you he would smile and shine.

More so, he didn’t tell you that Hoseok would avoid you.

There was nothing you could do about that though. If he wanted to avoid you so be it… the whole situation, however, annoyed you more than you thought it would.

“You look beautiful, y/n,” Jimin complimented.

He reached for your hand and interlaced it with his. Your eyes caught Hoseok’s before you turned your attention to your friend.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased making him laugh.

“I need to be honest with you,” he sighed with a small smile. “I didn’t invite you to be my date. I invited you because you and Hoseok need to talk and sort out all the misunderstandings.”

This wasn’t the first time Jimin had been so serious, but it was the first time he had been serious with you. More so, he was right.

You really wanted to talk to Hoseok and ask him what his problem was, because who acts this way with the person they like? But then again, you didn’t tell him how you felt, you were too worried about Irene. Someone who meant little to nothing to Hoseok.

The whole thing was really fucking stupid.

“Okay, thanks for being honest, Jimin,” you replied.

He drew you in for a hug before pushing you towards Hoseok, “talk it out and thank me later.”

It was awkward for about five seconds, but then it seemed like things were going to be okay when he smiled at you. Not at Jimin or Jin but you.

There was no exchange of words for the first few seconds, it was obvious a lot had to be said but the two of you didn’t know where to start. First of all, there was the situation with Irene. Second of all, there was the screenshot and then, then there were your feelings.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Hoseok finally addressed.

You nodded your head, “I know.”

He held onto your hand and led you into Jimin’s room. He closed the door before stepping onto the balcony for fresh air. It was stuffy inside, and the air was nice and cool against your skin.

The stars shone brighter than the city lights– the city which seemed to go on forever over the horizon. It made you feel small and incapable. The world was a big place waiting to be explored.

You had a lot going through your mind, but you didn’t know what to say.

Although it was Hoseok who spoke first. He had his hands in his pocket as he stared at the city ahead.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. There was a lot to deal with after we spoke, even more after you sent me that screenshot,” he spoke quietly as if afraid to wake the world.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.”

Hoseok turned around to stare at you– properly stare at you. It’d been a while, he regretted not speaking to you sooner. So much went through his mind when Jimin told him you two were meeting up for coffee or lunch.

It annoyed him when Jimin called them ‘dates’, but there was nothing he could do or say… until now.

“Irene won’t be bothering you anymore, I sorted it all out,” he said while gazing into your eyes. “You won’t need to worry about her.”

“Tha–That’s good.”

He nodded his head before dropping his gaze. So far things were going well, so far it seemed like it would go back to normal. But then, then you hadn’t really voiced your mind or told him how you felt.

You didn’t know if it was a good time. He deserved to know, of course, he did. How would you tell him though? Hey, I’ve liked you for so long now? No, that’s embarrassing.

“You don’t need to force things to get better or be okay because I know they will be,” Hoseok voiced as he offered a smile.

It was almost funny how he always seemed to know what to say.

You presented a smile in return as you asked him to dance…

Namjoon was as dumbfounded as was your niece. They stared at you with wide eyes and dropped jaws. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting on Christmas Eve when you told them about your talk with Hoseok.

“You didn’t confess?” Yerin almost screeched. “What kind of romance drama is this?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “this isn’t a romance drama. It never was.”

“Watch your tone Yerin-ah,” Namjoon added in a stern tone.

Yerin was quick to shut her mouth, she knew not to get her dad angry. However, she also knew when she was right, and exactly what to say; it was a similar trait to your mum.

“I just think auntie should go and confess. Like, now.”

Namjoon stared at his daughter for a few seconds before turning to stare at you, his expression told you everything, and it was hard not to roll your eyes.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you deadpanned. “He’ll be spending time with his family.”

Your brother shrugged his shoulders at you as he drew Yerin onto his lap. She was smart for a seven-year-old it was scary.

“You might never get the chance again,” he told you matter-of-factly. “It’s better to say it than regret it later, isn’t it?”

“I hate when you’re right.”

A lot went through your mind when you texted Hoseok. So much more rushed through your mind while you waited for him next to the Christmas tree. There was no one at the park except you and the fear of him not showing up.

It was nearing midnight. Three more minutes and it would be Christmas. Three more minutes and then you were leaving. He wasn’t going to show up. He wasn’t coming.

“Why are your eyes closed?” Someone asked,

A long exhale, you didn’t know you were holding, escaped your lips while you slowly opened your eyes.

“I was scared you wouldn’t come.”

He smiled his bright smile making you blush.

“That’s silly. We have a lot of missed time to make up for, so here I am,” he winked.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Sure, he was right about all the chances you missed, but did he know you liked him? Surely, not.

However, the smile on his lips and the gaze in his eyes said otherwise. He had to know… if he didn’t before he definitely did now. You asked him to meet you at night, next to a Christmas tree because you had something to tell him.

How obvious could you be?

“Hoseok, I think you already know… but I like you too.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled. “I already know.”

You laughed in return earning a soft gaze from the man in front. It kind of was like a romantic drama as your niece had said, just one with a little less drama. It was nice especially when Hoseok tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

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