#the flower/coffee shop au is coming it's fluffy I PROMISE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

synthetictorii · 8 months

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⟡ Prompt list ⟡

To request a prompt fic, just send me the genre, number of the prompt & character who you’d like me to write for. It’s okay to combine more of them too! ♡

🌠 AUs (please specify if you want it to be fluffy/angsty/whatever!)

Coffee shop

Flower shop

Guardian angel

Hanahaki disease

Horror

Hybrid

Mafia

Soulmate

Supernatural/Monster

Yandere

🌺 Fluff

Accidental touches

Being held after a long day

Coffee

Comfortable silence

Finishing each other’s sentences

Flower language

Hanging out with their friends

Matching outfits

Notes randomly found

Pillow fort

Protecting them from teasing

Rainy day

Reassurances

Sharing a bed for the first time

Sharing a hobby

Sharing secrets

Shopping together

Stargazing

Thinking about them when they’re away

Touch starved

Trying a new thing together

Whispers

Witnessing them being whipped on accident

“Can I touch you?”

“Can we talk? What are we? What are we doing?”

“Come closer.”

“Don’t go. Not yet.”

“Forever is a long time, are you sure you can handle it?”

“I can’t sleep, can I stay with you?”

“I hoped I’d meet someone like you for a long time.”

“I like the way things are now.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

“No, let me do it.”

“This reminded me of you.”

“Why can’t we stay here forever?”

“You don’t count - I love you.”

“You make me feel alive.”

“Your heart is beating so fast right now.”

🍂 Angst

A ring left behind

An empty side of the bed

Being given one last chance

Dying

Fears

Flinching away from touch

Hearing them cry in the other room

Insecurities

Jealousy

Nightmares

Reaching out without reaction

Rescue (- but is it really?)

Scaring them

Separation

Tears

The silence after an argument

Threats (- or promises?)

Understanding too late

Unfixable

Waiting, unsure whether they’ll come back

Words left unsaid

Words said too late

Yearning

“Can I hug you for the last time?”

“Come back to me if he hurts you.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“I hate this just as much as you, but we have to see this through.”

“I hope you’ll never erase me from your memories.”

“I knew you’d feel guilty.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“Just take me home.”

“Maybe it’d be best to just let go.”

“Thank you for being part of my life.”

“Thank you for trying.”

“Why should I trust you again?”

“You owe me much more than that.”

“You’re finally turning your back, but what about me?”

“You always knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

🔥 Smut

Body language

Bulging

Caught masturbating

Cumming into their pants

First to cum loses

Dacryphilia

Distracting

Dom and sub switching positions

Enemies

Exhibitionism

Giggly

Hands

Mirrors

Not allowed to touch

Pushing boundaries

Rings

Ropes

Rough and desperate

Sensory deprivation

Sexting

Slow and sensual

Sub and two polar opposites doms

Toys

Voyeurism

Wearing the other’s clothes

“Do you need help with that?”

“Do you want him/her to touch you?”

“Do you want to feel how hard/wet I am for you?”

“Get over here and make me.”

“I like being close to you. You’re so warm.”

“I’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now.”

“I said you’d get a reward, I didn’t say it would be letting you cum.”

“Keep that up and I won’t last.”

“No, I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

“Show me how much you missed me.”

“You make a sound and it’s game over.”

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

“You’re the biggest turn on.”

🔖 Quotes & lyric lines (stuff based on these will reflect the vibe rather than using the quote itself)

I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do.

His gaze touched me before his hands touched me.

You have always wanted to caress every monster.

I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins.

Look at us, alive and amongst the stars.

If only I could turn back time, would I have drawn out a future with you?

I confuse instinct for desire - isn’t bite also touch?

How could I have learned the road if I never looked at anything but you.

Now is the time to devour through the longing.

To love someone is firstly to confess: I’m prepared to be devastated by you.

When I first met you, that’s what I remember. I looked up at the sky and thought, I’m going to love this person because even the sky looks different.

I knew that you yelled “thank you” from the bottom of your heart until the end.

Don’t try to trap us in the word “love” because it’s a greed can’t be filled.

I was born and I met you and I have loved you to death.

I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.

I need to go find you / If I cry now, I might not be able to see you.

Our souls are so in love, but our humans keep getting the way.

But I would never kiss anyone who doesn’t burn me like the sun.

I wanted to hurt you, but the victory was that I couldn’t stomach it.

You will never find tenderness in the Devil’s eyes. What could he possibly look fondly at?

If I get to see you, I shall blossom in this barren earth.

Who wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?

To jump knowing you will be caught is a type of mercy I have never known, yet always craved.

Because we’re young, we’ll regret tomorrow.

When I meet you after time passes / I’ll know (You protected me) / I’ll know (I desired you)

#prompt list

0 notes

syntheticfoxfire · 1 year

Text

⟡ Prompt List ⟡

To request a prompt fic, just send me the genre, number of the prompt & character who you’d like me to write for. It’s okay to combine more of them too! ♡

🌠 AUs (please specify if you want it to be fluffy/angsty/whatever!)

Coffee shop

Flower shop

Guardian angel

Hanahaki disease

Horror

Hybrid

Mafia

Soulmate

Supernatural/Monster

Yandere

🌺 Fluff

Accidental touches

Being held after a long day

Coffee

Comfortable silence

Finishing each other’s sentences

Flower language

Hanging out with their friends

Matching outfits

Notes randomly found

Pillow fort

Protecting them from teasing

Rainy day

Reassurances

Sharing a bed for the first time

Sharing a hobby

Sharing secrets

Shopping together

Stargazing

Thinking about them when they’re away

Touch starved

Trying a new thing together

Whispers

Witnessing them being whipped on accident

“Can I touch you?”

“Can we talk? What are we? What are we doing?”

“Come closer.”

“Don’t go. Not yet.”

“Forever is a long time, are you sure you can handle it?”

“I can’t sleep, can I stay with you?”

“I hoped I’d meet someone like you for a long time.”

“I like the way things are now.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

“No, let me do it.”

“This reminded me of you.”

“Why can’t we stay here forever?”

“You don’t count - I love you.”

“You make me feel alive.”

“Your heart is beating so fast right now.”

🍂 Angst

A ring left behind

An empty side of the bed

Being given one last chance

Dying

Fears

Flinching away from touch

Hearing them cry in the other room

Insecurities

Jealousy

Nightmares

Reaching out without reaction

Rescue (- but is it really?)

Scaring them

Separation

Tears

The silence after an argument

Threats (- or promises?)

Understanding too late

Unfixable

Waiting, unsure whether they’ll come back

Words left unsaid

Words said too late

Yearning

“Can I hug you for the last time?”

“Come back to me if he hurts you.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“I hate this just as much as you, but we have to see this through.”

“I hope you’ll never erase me from your memories.”

“I knew you’d feel guilty.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“Just take me home.”

“Maybe it’d be best to just let go.”

“Thank you for being part of my life.”

“Thank you for trying.”

“Why should I trust you again?”

“You owe me much more than that.”

“You’re finally turning your back, but what about me?”

“You always knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

🔥 Smut

Body language

Bulging

Caught masturbating

Cumming into their pants

First to cum loses

Dacryphilia

Distracting

Dom and sub switching positions

Enemies

Exhibitionism

Giggly

Hands

Mirrors

Not allowed to touch

Pushing boundaries

Rings

Ropes

Rough and desperate

Sensory deprivation

Sexting

Slow and sensual

Sub and two polar opposites doms

Toys

Voyeurism

Wearing the other’s clothes

“Do you need help with that?”

“Do you want him/her to touch you?”

“Do you want to feel how hard/wet I am for you?”

“Get over here and make me.”

“I like being close to you. You’re so warm.”

“I’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now.”

“I said you’d get a reward, I didn’t say it would be letting you cum.”

“Keep that up and I won’t last.”

“No, I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

“Show me how much you missed me.”

“You make a sound and it’s game over.”

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

“You’re the biggest turn on.”

🔖 Quotes & lyric lines (stuff based on these will reflect the vibe rather than using the quote itself)

I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do.

His gaze touched me before his hands touched me.

You have always wanted to caress every monster.

I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins.

Look at us, alive and amongst the stars.

If only I could turn back time, would I have drawn out a future with you?

I confuse instinct for desire - isn’t bite also touch?

How could I have learned the road if I never looked at anything but you.

Now is the time to devour through the longing.

To love someone is firstly to confess: I’m prepared to be devastated by you.

When I first met you, that’s what I remember. I looked up at the sky and thought, I’m going to love this person because even the sky looks different.

I knew that you yelled “thank you” from the bottom of your heart until the end.

Don’t try to trap us in the word “love” because it’s a greed can’t be filled.

I was born and I met you and I have loved you to death.

I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.

I need to go find you / If I cry now, I might not be able to see you.

Our souls are so in love, but our humans keep getting the way.

But I would never kiss anyone who doesn’t burn me like the sun.

I wanted to hurt you, but the victory was that I couldn’t stomach it.

You will never find tenderness in the Devil’s eyes. What could he possibly look fondly at?

If I get to see you, I shall blossom in this barren earth.

Who wouldn’t want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?

To jump knowing you will be caught is a type of mercy I have never known, yet always craved.

Because we’re young, we’ll regret tomorrow.

When I meet you after time passes / I’ll know (You protected me) / I’ll know (I desired you)

#prompt list

0 notes

metalbuckaroo · 3 years

Text

Coffee

Summary: "I promised I'd be a gentleman." (Pt. 2 of The Fill In)

Warnings: pretty fluffy

AU: babysitter!bucky x f!reader

AN: Requests and asks always open! Reblogs and feedback appreciated

THE FILL IN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Photo by @bucksdolll

You were certain that Toby was more excited than you as he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, blabbering on and on.

"I know you think he's cool, but, he's just filling in until Mallory is back from vacation. Don't get too attached." You said, looking down at him.

His eyebrows furrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Then how come you're wearing a dress? You only wear dresses for boys you like." You nudged his forehead with your palm and sighed. "You know too much for your own good."

The ring of the doorbell made a wide smile crack across Toby's face, his hands grabbing your arm to pull you with him down the hall. "He's here! C'mon!" He laughed, his dog, Cooper, darting pass both of you to get to the front door. "Calm down, kid. Gonna pull my arm off."

He all but shoved you onto the porch, smiling up at Bucky. "Here she is, bring her back in one piece. Remember our deal." Toby said before looking to you with a pointed look. "Be nice to him. We like him."

You shook your head at him as Bucky chuckled lightly from behind you, your mom rubbing a hand over her face. "Behave Tobias." She sighed, giving you a soft smile as she shut the door. "He's, uh, extra excited."

Bucky nodded, pink tinting his cheeks as he opened the car door for you. "It's all he's talked about for two days." He laughed, getting in the driver side. "Bet that's been fun."

He pulled onto the road, inhaling a deep breath. "Oh, most definitely. Your favorite flowers, ice cream flavor, color. Not to mention the talk about being a complete gentleman." He grinned, glancing over at you. "He watches a lot of soap operas with our mom."

You could tell Bucky was uncomfortable in the crowded coffee shop as you stood in line; hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans as you reached to touch his forearm. "Wanna order and go somewhere else?" You asked, his steely eyes flicking down to look at you as he nodded lightly. "Where?"

You gave him a soft smile, squinting your eyes at him. "Its a surprise."

Once back in the car you navigated him to just outside the city, where everything was quieter and all around more pleasant.

"You're not taking me somewhere to murder me are you?" Bucky joked as he drove down a narrow back road. "No, you're too cute to do that. Take a right, here."

Finally pulling up to the small field, you both got out with coffees in hand. "Oh, wow. How did I never know this was here?" Bucky chuckled, looking at the open area of trees and grass. "Better keep it a secret. You're not allowed to bring your other dates here." You pointed, sitting in the grass; patting the spot next to you for him to sit. "More of a- date one at a time- guy. I wasn't actually expecting you to say yes. Was just taking a chance."

"If you would've said drinks and not coffee, I probably would've said no." You nodded, looking over at him. "Why?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows. "Every girl gets asked for drinks, it's rare to find someone who wants to go out for coffee." You shrugged.

Another flush of color painted his cheeks and he leaned back on his palms. "Thanks for not wanting to stay in the coffee shop. It was pretty crowded." He said softly, looking back in front of him. "You weren't comfortable. It's not fun if one of us are uncomfortable."

"There use to be a pond here, Toby loved to catch the frogs and try to talk mom into having them for pets. But- the city filled it in." You said after a minute of silence.

"You and Toby must be close, he talks about you all of the time." He said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Yeah, we were. Then I moved to the other side of the city and started visiting weekends," you inhaled in a breath, crossing your ankles. "Don't get to see him as much now. Living so far and work."

Two hours passed, Bucky had half expected you to be ready for him to take you home. Instead, you were sat in front of him, listening intently to how he ended up with the prosthetic arm as you traced your thumb over the dog tags that hung from his neck; not even paying attention to the dark metal and gold arm that caught the sun with every movement.

The one Toby swore to Bucky you would find 'awesome' but that Bucky felt would scare you off.

His heart rate picked up when you lifted your hand to his jaw, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He couldn't exactly place the look in your eyes, a mixture of sadness and adoration before you pulled his lips to yours.

A soft, simple kiss that made him melt into your touch and heart pound.

As you pulled away, Bucky pressed a kiss to your cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. "I promised I'd be a gentleman." He teased, eyes gleaming with his contagious smile.

You clicked your tongue and sighed. "Damn. Maybe next time." You smiled, letting your hand fall to his shoulder.

"Yeah, next time." He nodded, his larger hands engulfing yours as he stood, helping you up; his left hand not holding as tight as his right.

The ride back to the city was spent in comfortable silence, light music playing on the radio as you held Bucky's hand in your lap; fingers laced together.

His cheeks burned as you lightly traced the veins on the back of his hand, not wanting to let go of your hand when he pulled in front of your mom's house.

"Uh, Toby is having a birthday party soon. He really wants you to come." You said softly, Bucky nodding his head. "Yeah, of course."

His cool metal fingers held your chin as he locked his lips to yours briefly. "See you Tuesday for lunch?" He said when he pulled away, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Definitely." You said breathing a soft laugh.

You saw the curtain in the living room being jerked shut when you got out of the car, going to the front door. "I saw you watching like I was a kid again, mom. Where are you?" You laughed, looking in the doorways as you walked to the kitchen.

"How was it? I wanna hear everything." Your mom beamed, getting two glasses from the cabinet for lemonade. "He's extremely sweet, like a little puppy."

She rolled her eyes jokingly, leaning against the counter. "Well, I knew that already. What else?" She urged as you lifted yourself onto the countertop. "Toby made him promise to be a gentlemen."

"Taught him well then. Didn't I?"

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #babysitter!bucky #babysitter!bucky fluff #bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

➜ Words: 3.8k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Baking is an art form. It takes more than just having ingredients and following a recipe. It’s the flavour, texture, taste, and the presentation. It’s knowing why when things go wrong and how to fix it. It’s knowing the right kinds of ingredients to pick, how much of each should be combined, what techniques and methods to use. Baking is therapy. Baking is scientific. It is art. The ingredients are as follows:

Fresh strawberries

Sponge cake

Sugar

Heavy cream

Vanilla extract

You slice the freshly washed strawberries into halves as the stand mixer whips the two cups of heavy cream and quarter cup of sugar into medium peaks. Once you’ve got your components prepared, you slice the cooled sponge cake into two layers and set the bottom layer on a cake board on the turning cake table. You spread the whipped cream evenly with an offset spatula and layer the strawberries with cream on top. Afterwards, you place the other sponge cake on top and repeat the process. You finish the shortcake with strawberries on top for decorative purposes and pipe flowers with a twelve inch piping bag. “Very well done! Everyone give a round of applause for Y/N’s shortcake demonstration.” The teacher claps and the students around the counter follow suit. “Now it’s time for the real test.” She begins slicing the cake into pieces, but you’re not nervous whatsoever. You know you did a great job and your strawberry shortcake is worthy of salivating over. And as expected, while your classmates take careful bites and allow the flavour to linger on their tongue, there’s nothing but praise. “Wow, the sponge cake is so soft and moist.” “The cream is so smooth.” “It’s so fluffy.” “It’s melting in my mouth.” Even the teacher is nodding as she eats. But of course— “Isn’t it too sweet?” Jeon Jungkook has his brows deeply furrowed with a soured expression like he bit into a fucking lemon. His fork is cleaned but he puts the utensil down with a noisy clank, not wanting another bite. A muscle in your cheek twitches. “Didn’t you say that last time?” “Yeah.” He shrugs. “But you didn’t follow my advice. Obviously.” “Maybe you just have sensitive teeth, Jonhson.” “I don’t,” Jungkook deadpans, not appreciating how you pretend that you don’t know his name. “I don’t see anyone else complaining.” “Because they’re too nice to. If you can’t take criticism, then there’s nothing I can do, Y/N.” There are eyes flickering around. This happens often enough that no one’s particularly surprised, but there’s still bated breath held amongst your classmates. You open your mouth to retort. But the teacher eats with a thoughtful look, and then nods. “You’re right, Jungkook. You could lessen the sugar just a tad, Y/N. The strawberries are quite sweet this time around. Just goes to show that ingredients might always change, everyone!” “Okay.” You force a smile. “I’ll make a note of it.” “Alright class, now that we saw the demonstration, off you go! Watch that whipping cream! It shouldn’t be soft or hard peaks!” Everyone turns to leave, but your glare connects with Jeon’s until he turns around all the way. No matter what you make — Jeon Jungkook always complains that it’s too sweet. He’s a fucking ass. “What was up with that?” There are audible murmurs behind you. “I thought they were going to fight.” “In the kitchen? No. Maybe outside — but you know how it is.” “They still hate each other over the September incident?” “Well Jeon almost got Y/N expelled….” You turn around and once they realize they’ve been caught gossiping, they look away with big eyes and they quicken their hands. “So, uh, pass me the cream!” “Y-Yeah.” The teacher brings your attention back as she finishes marking the rubric. “Thanks for doing that demonstration for the whole class, Y/N. Job well done as usual. Just lessen the sweetness and you’re good to go.” You’re given ninety five percent. Full marks lost because of that asshat. You hope he can feel your glare on his backside. Eventually class ends and with your station all cleaned, hands washed, and apron put aside, you leave. Outside of the room, is the most handsome man on the planet waiting for you. The person who you love wholeheartedly. The person you’re most excited to see. Your person. He’s dressed in a white turtleneck sweater that you got him last year for his birthday, black jeans, and that baby blue trench that’s always soft to the touch. His dark hair is brushed and he’s leaning against the wall casually. But the glimmer in his sheepish eyes betrays the nonchalant exterior he tries to put on. And the corner of his plump lip pulls into a tender smile. “Hey—oof!” Laughter bubbles out of Seokjin’s mouth and his arms wrap around your frame after you quite literally leaped onto him. You barely manage to pull away from the man, having the strongest urge to stick to him forever. “I missed you.” You pout and he grins. “Missed you too, sweetheart.” You lean in to kiss your boyfriend silly. He holds you by your waist and you greet his plump, soft lips that makes you melt in a chaste peck. After a moment, you break away and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Should we go?” “Yeah.” Your steps sync together. “You won’t believe what happened to me today.” “What happened? Tell me.” The pair of you walk down the corridor together as the rest of the class continues to spill out. There are girls who caught sight of the heartwarming interaction and they hold their books to their chest as they sigh wistfully. “God, I’m so jealous. I want to be in love too. When am I going to get a boyfriend?” “At this rate, never.” “Hey! Rude!” “I’m kidding!” She giggles. “You just won’t get someone like Seokjin.” “Let’s be real, no one is gonna get someone like Seokjin — he’s just...perfect.” “They’re such a good couple, aren’t they? They’re gonna have such pretty…” Their voices fade, but Jungkook exits and hears their commentary. He turns to steal a glance at your backside down the hall. Jungkook scoffs audibly. “What?” Taehyung catches up to his best friend and swings an arm over his shoulder. The same-height brunette follows his line of sight and hums. “Jealous you’re not in a relationship?” “As if. It’s just pathetic, is all.” Jungkook looks away and they make their own way to the dining hall. “You really handed it to Y/N today.” Taehyung grins mischievously. “Like damn. I didn’t think her cake was half-bad. But you’re not scared it’s gonna come bite you in the ass, Kook? Y/N’s gonna hammer you down when it’s your turn for demonstration.” “So what? Like she knows what she’s even doing.” “Are you sure about that? She seems pretty decent at what she does to me.” “Decent isn’t good enough,” he says blankly. “She thinks she’s the shit but she came here to follow her boyfriend.” Taehyung whistles. “You still mad over September?” “She just irks me. Always has.” “Right, didn’t you guys go to high school together? You, Jin and her…” “We never talked. Whatever, it’s not worth talking about and wasting our time. Hey, what’s on the menu for lunch?” “You tell me. Jimin never texts us what’s new today. Dude just eats and then goes.” “What class does he even have right now?” “Bakery safety and sanitation.” Jungkook grins, remembering just how nightmarish that class was. “Rip.” The two of them turn the corner, moving the opposite way from you and Seokjin, and the hallway empties out.

Anxiousness boils at the pit of your stomach. Today’s the day you’ve been waiting for ever since you found out your application was accepted into the institution and you were successfully enrolled. Whatever results appear, it might dictate where you’re headed in the near and far future. The experience that you gain in these two years will pave the path to your career after all. “It’s today?” Moonbyul puts down her spoon. “Isn’t the paid internship in May? It’s only November.” “The posting went up for us in November too,” Hani pipes up past a mouthful of eggs. “Remember?” “Did it? It was so long ago, I forgot.” “It was only last year.” Sandeul rolls his eyes. “You haven’t gotten that old.” “I sure feel like it.” “Well if anything, you sure look like it.” “Umm, excuse me?” “Okay, okay, guys,” Your boyfriend interrupts with a laugh. “You’re freaking out Y/N even more.” They mutter apologies, but you smile. In an attempt to calm yourself down, you ask, “Where did you guys end up going?” After all, they’re a year ahead of you and they’ve been through the entire process. Any advice is helpful advice at this point. “Sandeul and I got hired by a hotel,” Hani says, “The Marriott. It was a pretty sweet gig, kind of tough though. Out of the entire class, I think five of us went there in total, so we were pretty lucky that we knew each other. It was long hours, but I learned a lot.” Sandeul scoffs. “Can’t say I did.” “When do you ever learn?” Moonbyul bites back. “My internship was at a private club,” Ken recalls, interjecting as the two of them argue again. “But all I baked was bread all day. It was awful.” “Oh god.” You look to Seokjin. “What if I have to bake bread all day? I hate yeast.” Jin laughs and he lifts his thumb to affectionately swipe at the corner of your mouth, getting the spaghetti sauce off your skin where you missed. “You’ll be fine. Promise. You’ll probably get hired at a catering company like I did. Or maybe a pastry shop.” “God, I hope so.” “Which did you apply to?” Hani asks, playing with her noodles. “Just a bunch of them. Restaurants, catering companies, shops. I applied to I think ten.” “Oh, you should be fine then.” “But I heard sometimes they put you in ones you didn’t apply for.” “That rarely happens. Don’t worry about it.” She bats the air with her hand, easing your worries a little more. Your boyfriend smiles warmly. “See? Told you so.” You nod and check the time. It’s five minutes to noon. And with that realization, you get up. “We should go.” “Don’t they email you?” Sandeul asks, pulling himself away from his argument with Moonbyul and ignoring whatever half-hearted and playful insult she throws his way. “Yeah, but the physical posting gets put up faster.” You’re jittery, hopping on both feet and Jin chuckles before he gets up too, taking your food tray and his to dump into the trash. They wish you all the luck you need and you’re off with Seokjin by your side. You’re excited and afraid, not exactly sure what to expect. You just hope you get your internship by the same catering company as the one Seokjin had. They liked him enough that they’ve ensured him a position after he graduates. If they hire you too and you do well enough, they’ll hire you back and you’ll get to work with him. It would be absolutely perfect. You can already imagine it. A small apartment in the city. Working together. Coming home together. There’s not a better plan out there. The hallway is crowded with lots of people pushing past to look at the posting. There are loud conversations, eager claps and cheers, to disappointed sighs and whines. “Wait here, okay?” You turn to Jin, not wanting him to be stepped on or pushed by the crowd. “I’ll be right here.” He squeezes your hand before letting go. And you push past the horde of students. “Excuse me, excuse me. Sorry…” “Aw man, I have my internship at a grocery store?! This sucks.” — “The hell is Dog World.” — “Oh my god, oh my god! I got into the East Wood Country Club! Fuck yes!” Finally, you stumble out of the crowd to the very front. The list is grouped together by locations and you search your name on the paper posting. After an antagonizing minute, you find it. “Kim’s…..Wedding Cake Company….” Blood drains from your face. It runs cold. Jeon Jungkook is coming with you. // You stomp your foot and cross your arms. You’ve been pouting for the past hour. But you can’t help the distress — not when you were still unable to comprehend it. It was the worst news on Earth. You thought your eyes were wrong, that maybe the posting or printer made a mistake, but the email wasn’t any different either. “I can’t believe I have to go with that jerk! It’s all ruined!” “I know, baby.” Seokjin pouts with you, sympathizing with your situation. He pulls you in to plant a kiss at the top of your head. “But you’ll be okay. Promise.” The way he says it calms your nerves, but that doesn’t mean you still aren’t frustrated to no end. There was only one paid internship to be done. One that was supposed to pave your way, help with the rest of your career, teach you things that couldn’t be learned through lectures and classroom work. But your one shot is destroyed. In shambles. What should be a fantastic experience is going to be a dreadful one. Why did things never go right for you? “I just….I just really wanted to be hired at your company.” You look up at him, eyes stinging and glossy with tears that threaten to shed. Your plans are ruined. “It’s okay. You can always apply after graduation.” “I know.” You sigh. “But of all people, why him?” A few hours later, the pair of you catch up with your friends at the dining center for dinner, and they quickly notice the way you’re not necessarily jumping for joy, but rather grieving. “Not...good news, I presume?” Moonbyul gasps. “Did you not get hired anywhere-OW!” She rubs the spot where Sandeul smacked the back of her head for being tactless. “It’s not that,” you reassure them with a small smile. “My internship is at Kim’s Wedding Cake Company.” Ken’s eyes are enlarged. “Oh shit.” “Wedding cakes?!” Hani sharply inhales. “That’s brutal.” “No, it’s not that either. I don’t mind. It’s just…” You steal a glimpse at your boyfriend. For one, you wanted to go where he went and secondly— “I’m with Jeon Jungkook.” “Who?” Ken asks, brows furrowing. “You know, the black haired kid,” Moonbyul says in an attempt to jog his memory. But the man’s impassive expression doesn’t waver or alter. “You literally described at least a quarter of the population.” “The one that looks like a rabbit, you idiot.” Hani makes grand gestures. “The deer-looking fellow. You know, the cute one.” “Right!” He snaps his fingers, as if that was enough to remember him by. You shake your head. “He’s not cute. He’s an ass. Steer clear territory.” “Can’t you steer clear from him?” Sandeul asks before he slurps up his carbonara and then chews in his cheek. “There’s like what— four or five kids coming with you? You can probably avoid him if you wanted to.” “No.” It dawns on you just how bad the circumstances are. “Apparently only two of us are going there. At least I didn’t see anyone else assigned to that place. It’s only going to be just him and I.” “Yikes.” “Not helping, Hani.” Seokjin gives her a look that makes her sheepish and mumble an apology. “It’s not going to be that bad.” He reaches for your hand underneath the table, a private place without the prying eyes of his friends. “It’s only for three months and it’s during summer. It won’t happen for quite some time.” “Yeah.” You squeeze your hand tenderly with his. It’s wondrous how effective Seokjin’s reassurance is. You feel like there’s no reason for you to be afraid, for you to dread the inevitability. He makes you feel like you could take on anything. All plans have their obstacles. Maybe this is just yours. Things always have a way of working out after all. You’ll get your experience, do your internship without talking to him, and then apply where Jin will be working after. You just have a feeling — call it your intuition — that it’ll work out. // But you’re still somewhat unsettled. You wonder if there’s a way you could switch. At least it wouldn’t hurt to take your chances and ask, then you knew you tried and did all you could. So with a hopeful heart, you approach the office area and open the door. The secretary is gone from her desk, maybe gone to take a bathroom or coffee break, so you take a seat in the waiting area. One second passes before you overhear a familiar voice that you’ve grown to detest. “—don’t see how I’m qualified at all! I haven’t even learned about wedding cakes yet!” The frustration is tangible. “It’s a course for next year!” “Then you’ll get a head start from your classmates, Jungkook.” There’s an audible sigh and his voice becomes calmer. “Miss. Kang, please. I just don’t understand how I could be put in something I didn’t even apply for.” “What do you want to do, Jungkook?” “Pardon?” “What is it that you want to do after you’ve gotten your diploma?” “I want to be a chocolatier.” There’s a pause. “A Master Chocolatier. I want to compete in The World Chocolate Masters. That’s why I applied for Oliver’s and Tokyo Confectionery. Spending my time and my internship at a place that does chocolate is important to me. Not wedding cakes.” “Well, you’re lucky then. I personally know the couple that runs Kim’s Wedding Cake Company. They’re good friends of mine and the man who runs the place with his wife is actually a chocolatier. He studied in Paris and has been in the industry for more than ten years. I feel like you could learn a lot from him, Jungkook. Remember, it’s not the place you go to, but the mentor that you have. Think it over. Give it a few days. If you still have concerns, we can talk about it.” Jungkook huffs in exasperation and grabs his bag. He mutters a reluctant ‘thank you’ before leaving the office. He doesn’t take one look back but on his way out, he catches you staring straight at him in the waiting area. His steps slow but then he scoffs, looks away and walks out. When you get a chance to talk to the lady organizing internships, it’s brief — she apologizes and tells you there’ll be no changes made. There’s no arguing, you know that much. Not when Jungkook quite literally tried every desperate plea in the book. You end up leaving and at the same exact time, Jungkook exits the men’s locker area, changed back into his regular attire. The two of you nearly bump heads, running into each other. “Are you following me?” he flat out asks when your eyes meet. You raise a brow, freezing in the middle of the hallway. “Excuse me?” “Are you following me,” he repeats with a sharp tongue, obviously still peeved over his previous interaction with Miss. Kang. But you don’t know why he’s putting it on you and making such outlandish accusations. There was absolutely no limit to his cockiness. “Get your head out of your ass, Johnson. I don’t have the time or day to follow you around.” “Then what are you doing here?” “I don’t think I need to tell you where I am or what I do.” “Whatever.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and brushes past you. But you turn onto your heel and shout after him— “Do you really think you’ll make it?” “What?” He shifts around to glare. His thick brows are knitted, mouth downturned. “Do you really think you’ll make it as a chocolatier?” You meet his eye and a smirk pulls on your features. A rush of air leaves your nose in a snort. “You? Really? You want to compete in The World Chocolate Masters? That’s cute.” “At least I have actual ambitions and goals and I’m not here for the sake of my boyfriend.” “Excuse me? What are you trying to say?” “Don’t play dumb and act like you didn’t follow your little boyfriend here.” “You don't know anything about me, Jeon.” “I don’t? I know that you’re not passionate about baking, that’s for sure. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have fucking stolen—” “Fuck you,” you spit. “I didn’t.” “Yeah right.” Jungkook scoffs. “Get real, Y/N.” He gets the last word. Jeon Jungkook turns around, walking away with his bag slung over his shoulder. You shout insults after him but he ignores it, making you look like the fool. Tears sting your eyes and your teeth grit. He’s an asshole through and through. You don’t know why you even bother wasting your breath. If Seokjin was the most patient, kindest person and the person that you love the most — then Jeon was the complete opposite. You will forever detest his very being. // Your hand is squeezed and you’re brought out of your thoughts. “Babe? What’s wrong?” You look to your boyfriend. That’s right — you love him and this man loves you. There’s nothing else that could ever matter more than this. “Nothing. I just had...a really long day today.” Seokjin stops walking and spreads open his arms wide. He gestures to you. “Come here.” A smile pulls into your features and you jump into him. Jin laughs, stumbling back as you cuddle into his chest. His arms wrap securely around your frame, shielding you from the cold, from the darkness of the night. You feel safe. “I love you.” He hums and kisses the top of your head. You’re beginning to feel better already.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #bts seokjin #bts slice of life #bts slice of life au #jungkook series #Y'ALL THIS IS GONNA BE THE SWEETEST THING Y'ALL EVER DARN READ #istg reading and editing ch 1 again brings tears to my eyes #im so excited to finally share this series #I HOPE YOU'RE READY

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ad1thi · 4 years

Note

If your still doing fic recs, could u rec any soft stevetony ones?

absolutely!! this got pretty long so ive hidden most of it under a read-more so i don’t annoy people. a couple of authors feature more than once. ive tried to avoid that as much as possible, but if an author features more than once - take that as a sign that they have rly good stuff for soft stevetony

disclaimer: don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for every author!! (a disclaimer i regrettably forgot to add to previous fic rec lists but will be adding from now on)

soda pops: @starklysteve

If anybody asks, Steve would smile and say it was very romantic. Very Tony. Because if he went into any further detail, nobody would quite believe him.

Tony, on the other hand, would laugh and say that Steve’s in love with a man in a can. So, really, it wasn’t outside the natural progression of things.

me voy pa’l pueblo: @firebrands

two times steve walks away, and one time that tony walks with him.

/ or, my very fluffy take on my bingo card prompt "farewells." steve is on vacation when he meets tony.

fill for my stony bingo prompt: farewells; also for bookworminaslump on tumblr who asked for a tourist/knowledgeable local au!

Tumblr Ficlets: @omg-just-peachy (this is 115 chapters of stevetony being soft!!)

A collection of enough tooth-rotting fluff to last a year, all in one place.

tender offerings: @omg-just-peachy

Five times Steve carried Tony to bed.

the best thing (is that it’s happening to you and me): @captainstarkreportingforduty

Or, five times the team saw Steve Rogers and Tony Stark in love.

Sweet On You: @miniblackraven

It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Bespectacled Avengers Society (Membership of One): @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

Tony gets glasses. Glasses get a Tony. Steve loses his mind and walks into walls.

a flower crown for your love: @anthonyed

"There, there," Pepper cooed. "Tony likes flowers?" she said with a shred of doubt in her tone. But when Steve peered up, she's smiling her bright toothy smile. He squinted and she sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "He does." she insisted. "Even more so than me."

if this was a movie: @omg-just-peachy

“One of our seniors is being generous with his time this year—by force of his own actions, but generous none the less—and he’d be happy to help you, I’m sure. Tony Stark? I’ll set something up for later this week. I think between the two of you you’ll be able to pull your average up enough to make it through to playoffs,” Coulson said, with that ever-hopeful lilt in his voice.

Or, Steve needs a calculus tutor, Tony is available, but how is Steve ever supposed to focus when he's been in love with Tony for ... his entire school life?

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

amore mio: @brucewaynery

Tony has had it with Steve being dumb and reckless out in the field, he has a family to think about now, Steve promises him that he'll be with him, kingdom come.

(initially based on that one headcanon about Italian Tony yelling and gesticulating at Steve but Peter thinks he's doing some weird dance and tries to copy him, but it got very fluffy very quickly)

Lost My Mind in a Coffee Shop: @betheflame

“Boyo,” Bucky muttered to his best friend. “I swear to God that if you don’t ask that man for his number soon, I will create a Grindr profile for you and you will not like it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am here to finish grading, not hit on men.”

“Can you not do both?” Natasha smirked. “Nearly tenured, historical genius, feels like something you should be able to multitask.”

&&&

In which Steve is a history professor and Tony's an engineering one and Bucky owns the joint where they have their meet cute.

AU-gust Chapter 7: @iam93percentstardust

stevetony, childhood friends AU

Right Up The Road: @gottalovev

The day at the senate committee in Washington DC wasn't supposed to end with Tony and Steve transformed into animals by a baby witch. That said, the 350 miles trek back to the compound to get help promises to be quite an adventure too!

(or the adventures of Cat!Tony and Wolf!Steve - and how to readjust when you're back to human!)

i’ll take care of you: @elcorhamletlive

“Hi.”

Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise.

He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.

“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”

The Tally System: @betheflame

Everyone on the team knew about the tally system.

Whenever Steve would save Tony - whether from a monster or from his own stupidity - he’d say, “tag”. Whenever Tony do the same, he’d say, “your turn”. Thor thought it was adorable, Clint thought it was ridiculous, Bruce refused to register an opinion.

Natasha thought it was something she could work with.

what’s mine is yours: @robertdowneyjjr

5 times Tony stole Steve’s clothes, and 1 time Steve returned the favor.

For a billionaire, Tony Stark really doesn't pay for a lot of what he wears.

I like Shiny Things But I’d Marry You With Paper Rings: @betheflame

Rhodey: I just confirmed with Sam that he’s going to make sure he cooks tonight and that his entire team is briefed. I’m heading over now to strategically arrange a fuck ton of ficus trees to block them from gen pop.

Pepper: They’re not getting engaged in a prison, Jimmy.

Rhodey: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers show up to Circe on a Saturday night in May and you watch every person in that restaurant turn into someone I’d rather arrest than eat with.

****

In which Tony and Steve get engaged, but they're kind of extra about it, because they are always themselves

the road to the stars: @shell-heads

Tony is seven years old when he sees the ballet for the first time and meets his future pas de deux partner.

His father is invited to sweet-talk politicians into a new weapons deal and explain his latest idea for their program, and his mom goes to catch up with old friends she hasn't seen in years, but Tony goes because his mom had smiled down at him and told him he would love it.

His mom's never wrong.

In which boy genius Tony Stark meets girl wonder Natasha Romanoff at the ballet, and they fit their broken little pieces together to make something beautiful on the dance floor.

Steve? He's just a dumb, awful, chaotic, extremely supportive older brother that really should just shut up and admit he likes Tony a lot more than he pretends, because Natasha only has five people in the world she likes; it only makes sense her two favorites would fall in love with one another.

They always were a little slow, though.

A Second Chance To Take it Slow: @omg-just-peachy

Tony loves his adopted son, Peter, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he had someone to do this whole parenting thing with. After a failed one night stand, Tony's parent-teacher conference with Mr. Rogers comes with quite the surprise.

Wake Up!: @randomstufffromotherblogs

Tony came home from a business trip and is woken up by his husband and their three-year old.

pull me closer to love: @captainstakreportingforduty (part of a series)

“A Mother’s Day card? For... Tony?” Steve clarifies, and can’t help the smile on his face as six familiar little heads nod in response.

“But... guys, Tony’s not—“ he pauses and takes a breath, any explanation dying in his throat against the excited gleam in everyone’s eyes. “Why do you guys want to do that, hmm?"

compromises: @robertpattisons (when i looked up OP on tumblr, this is the blog i was directed to - but i sincerely apologise if ive gotten it wrong)

Steve should have expected it, he really should have.

There were regulations that came with dating Tony Stark. Things that were clear and things that they needed to work through.

Things like how Steve always got strawberry ice cream, while Tony got rocky road. Or when Steve needed to get his homework done before he was down to make out - even though Tony always got his way.

Things like that were clear

all that you are is all that i’ll ever need: @natasharxmanov

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers announced their engagement on Good Morning America through Tony Stark’s previous secretary now CEO, Pepper Potts. And over this past weekend, I got the chance to sit down with them both, to visit their home and attend their gala, all to write this article about the most powerful couple in the world.

(Or, the fic in which Tony and Steve get married.)

(i won’t ever) trade my mistakes: @brucewaynery

Toddler Peter, painting a masterpiece with his dad.

aka: a dumb amount of family fluff to help you power through the week

#adi's rec list #stevetony #superhusbands #steve rogers/tony stark #steve rogers x tony stark #steve x tony #i did this instead of my exam #so i rly hope you enjoy it anon!!#there's a healthy amount of superfamily thrown in here #so apologies if that isn't your thing #anon ask #adi answers asks

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jessbakescakes · 3 years

Note

Hi! 7/54?

7. florist AU

54. Secret relationship

So there are a few great flower shop AUs out there - @aerielz has one that is just a thing of beauty. But. I shall try to come up with something here that can come somewhere close to the neighborhood of being interesting.

Josh owns the flower shop. He knows nothing about flowers. Something about someone leaving the shop to Josh’s dad (who knew even less about flowers), who left it to Josh. Josh has less than zero clue what he’s doing.

Donna, on the other hand, is the store’s manager. She pretty much runs the place and has for several years now. Donna anticipates pushback from Josh, expecting him to go toe to toe with her on how things should be run or what should be done with the shop. Josh doesn’t argue with her. When she expresses surprise, he shrugs and says “you seem like you know what you’re doing. Why mess with a good thing?”

Josh is mostly hands off. The place pretty much runs under Donna’s leadership, and she checks in with him when she needs something done, but the two don’t really interact much. On Valentine’s Day, Josh gets a frantic early morning call from Donna. The employee who was supposed to show up that day has quit with no notice and she’s the only one running the place. It’s the single busiest day of the year and she’s panicked. “I’m good, Josh, but I’m not that good. I need help.” Josh protests, but Donna promises she can manage if he can just come in, answer some phones, and run some credit cards. Josh agrees.

Their day is ridiculously busy, but they pull it off without a hitch. They’re working well past closing to clean everything up and get ready for the next day, and Josh asks Donna out of the blue if he’s keeping her from Valentine’s Day plans. Donna assures him that he isn’t. A few minutes of flirty adjacent banter later, they’ve decided to have pizza delivered to the store and hang out. By the end of the evening, Josh and Donna have both independently realized they have feelings for each other, but neither confesses.

Josh starts coming around more - learning from Donna about the flowers, how the shop runs, etc. It only takes a week for him to run out of excuses to show up, and finally he confesses that he likes Donna. They start dating, but they do it in secret. It’s important to Donna that no one thinks she earned her position by sleeping with the boss. Josh doesn’t care what everyone else thinks, but he cares what Donna thinks. So he agrees. This lasts a few months until people start to get suspicious. Donna’s assistant manager, Sam, notices Josh coming around more and asks Donna about it, but she pretends like she has no idea what’s up, insisting that it’s a good idea to have the owner involved in the day to day operations. One morning, Donna is staying at Josh’s place and spills coffee on her top. She grabs one of Josh’s dress shirts on the way out, tying it off and figuring she can get away with it - she’s just training one of the new college kids who’s starting to train to be ready before their Mother’s Day rush starts (their second busiest day of the year). Except when she walks in the door it’s Sam, and Donna instantly knows they’ve been caught.

Sam knew all along, he just wanted them to finally admit it.

I think this fic would have a super fluffy epilogue, probably Josh bringing home flowers (that he picked out himself) on Mother’s Day to brand new mom Donna a couple years down the line.

Give me two tropes + a pairing and I’ll tell you how I’d combine them in a fic.

#josh x donna #two tropes and a ship

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makethiscanon · 4 years

Text

Seeing all these different Flufftober prompts, I always find it hard to think of fluffy prompts that are just a word or two so I’m going to compile a list of the many words from the many prompts lists to use for reference all year round. Feel free to use this too.

May you all have a fun time writing/creating fluffy content!

All prompts are in alphabetical order and are numbered for convenience when using a random number generator.

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Credits and thanks to the following users for coming up with the different original lists:

@coffee-here

@sansy-fresh

@giucorreias

@ryu-no-joou

@flufftober

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Adventure

Agency

Alternate Universe

Angst (in a fluffy way?)

Argument

Baking Together

Basket

Bear Hug

Bee

Beginning

Birthday

Blushing

Board Games

Book

Brain

Breakfast

Breakfast in Bed

Breatheless

Butt

Calm

Candle

Candy

Canon Fix-It

Carrying

Celebration

Childhood Bedroom

Closet

Clothes

Coffee

Coffee Shop AU

College/University AU

Colourful

Comfort

Compliment

Compromise

Confession

Cooking

Costumes

City

Creatures

Crime

Cuddles

Cutting Partner’s Hair

Dancing

Dating Start

Do You Trust Me?

Doll

Dream

Dress

Embarrassing Secrets

Established Relationship

Eyes

Fake Dating

Family

Festivities

Finding a Pet

Fireflies

First Date

First Kiss

First Meetings

Fishing

Flowers

Food

Forehead Kisses

Forget

Fun

Fur

Game

Garden

Gardening

Ghost

Glitter

Graduate

Grant

Gutter

Hair

Heart

Helpless

Holding Hnds

Holiday

Homesick

Host

Hot

Hugs

Hurt/Comfort

I Don’t Understand

In the Shadows

Indirect Kiss

Jealous

Justify

Kemonomimi / Animal Ears-Tail

Key

Kinship

Kisses

Kiss on the Hand

Lace

Lake

Last

Late Night Craving

Letters

Limited

Loneliness

Love

Love Notes

Magic

Make Me

Masquerade

Mist

Mushroom

Neighbours

Night

Nightmare

Obligation

Oblivious Crush

“Oh no, they’re hot.”

Once Upon a Time

Party

Past

(The) Perfect Gift

Petit

Pets

Phone

Picnic

Pink

Pleasure

Potion

Promises

Proposal

Pumpkins

Rain

Rainy Day

Rings

Roommates

Sand

Scary Movies

Sea

Secret

Selfies Together

Sharing a Bed

Sharing Clothes

Sharing Hobbies

Shells

Sick Partner

Sleep

Slide

Slow Dancing

Slumber Party

Smooth

Snow

Snowy Day

Song

Soulmates

Sparkle

Spring

Stars

Strawberries

Sugar

Summer

Sweater

Swing

Terms of Endearment

Terrace

Terrify

Thunderstorm

Ticket

Times

Tobacco

Transform

Tree

Tree House

Tough

Tucking Partner into Bed

Unlikely

Visit

Whispers

Wine

Wood Fire

Woods

Words

Wounded

Zero

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#Flufftober #Fluff Prompts #Fluff Writing Prompts #Fluff Ideas #writing prompts #writing ideas #flufftober 2020 #flufftober 2021 #flufftober2022 #flufftober list #bnha x reader #haikyuu x reader #x reader #cute writing prompts #sarahsprompts

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 7 (Mafia AU)

Summary: Rus is getting to wake up and face a new day. A shame that staying in bed and hiding sounds like a better option.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

~~*~~

Read on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It felt like he’d hardly slept at all when Blue shook him awake. Rus floundered in the tangled sheets, struggling to sit up as he blinked in confusion at the unfamiliar room. Then everything came back in a rush and Rus very nearly dove back beneath the blankets, the better to hide from his own stupidity. Might have even made it if Blue hadn’t exclaimed in surprise, catching him up in his short, sturdy arms.

“Easy, little brother,” Blue crooned. He petted Rus’s skull, fingers moving in soothing, gentle pats. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“it’s okay,” Rus croaked out and he gave in to the childish urge to lean into his brother’s embrace, taking the comfort he freely offered. “just a little jumpy, i guess.”

Blue held on a few moments longer before easing away, “I should have let you sleep,” he fretted. “after everything that happened, you need your rest, you didn’t even stir when the butler knocked on the door, I should have—”

“bro, i’m fine,” Rus interrupted, “you just startled me.” He proved it by squirming free of the blankets and climbing out of the bed to his feet, and if he was a little wobbly, eh, he caught his balance quickly enough. He was about to escape to the bathroom to shower, a combo guaranteed to put off conversation and let him wake up a little more, when he saw the new addition to their room of a neatly folded stack of clothes on the little coffee table by the sofa. A look at his brother confirmed he was already dressed in a pair of trousers and a fine shirt, the lovely floral pattern shades of blue and yellow to match his starry eye lights.

He looked charmingly handsome and that was not an outfit that had ever been in his brother’s closet.

“that’s a different look for you, bro,” Rus said warily.

“Yes, well.” Blue smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, fingering the pearl buttons. “We’ve been invited to breakfast with our hosts,” Blue said brightly. “That’s the only reason I wanted to wake you up. They’re expecting us in a half an hour, and I wanted to give you time to get ready.”

Time to get ready? An entire half an hour to prepare himself to see Edge after last night’s catastrophe. Something of his dismay must’ve shown on his face and Blue’s overbright cheer faltered, his expression torn. Probably caught between the worry of insulting their ‘hosts’ and Rus’s state of mind.

Yeah, right now his state of mind was up for reelection. A hysterical laugh tried to bubble out of his throat as Rus backed away, feebly disguised as a cough. “no prob, bro, i’ll be fast in the shower.”

He didn’t give Blue a chance to say anything else, like maybe try to send him back to bed with an offer to make excuses for Rus’s absence. Didn’t he have enough to worry about right now without fretting that his little bro was going to embarrass him in front of their new…what? Business partner? Seemed like a good a title as any and Rus snatched up the pile of clothes without even looking at it and darted into the shower, closing and locking the door behind him.

The bathroom gave him a pause, jarring him from his creeping panic. All gleaming fixtures and shining porcelain tiles, with a row of soaps and gels sitting invitingly on the back of the counter. A peek in one of the drawers revealed plenty of other toiletries, including several unopened toothbrushes. The shower cubical was even better, instead of one shower head, the massive stall was lined with several coming from all angles, ready to hose down whoever dared step inside. The walls were beaded with water, probably from Blue using it and Rus stifled a giggle to think of his rather petite brother using it, trying not to get washed away like a paper boat in a hurricane.

Was there anything in this place that wasn’t turned up to eleven?

Rus set down the stack of clothes on the counter and snagged a toothbrush along with the shower gel that smelled the least offensive. The nightshirt he stripped off and tossed into a handy hamper, he’d sleep bare ass tonight if he had to, rather than wear that piece of failure again. He fiddled with the knobs until he figured out how to get to the hot water, then stepped in, letting the liquid bliss pour down on him and guiltily basking in the seemingly endless fall of hot water that their rickety old water heater couldn’t have come close to.

He probably could’ve stayed an hour without the chill chasing him out, but he’d promised his brother to be quick. So he stripped the plastic off the toothbrush, scrubbing at his pearly whites and using the shower as an impromptu water pick, then switching over to the bath poof and shower gel, determinedly scrubbing every nook and cranny, all the way down to his toe joints. It was just a shame that getting clean didn’t take up nearly as much of his thought process as he needed to keep his mind blank and memories of last night crept in, jabbing gleefully at him.

What had he even been thinking? The stress of everything that happened yesterday must’ve torpedoed his common sense, because seriously, trying to seduce Edge in the hopes it would get them, what, a little security and an extra promise to help, on top of what he’d already done? Trust was a hard-earned commodity, Above or Belowground, but if he stirred a little critical thinking into his thought process, there was proof that Edge wasn’t exactly untrustworthy. Not yet, anyway.

The whole shooting up their shop and Rus getting kidnapped off the street was Edge’s fault, sure, he’d admitted that much, but, honestly, Edge could’ve walked away at anytime already. He’d saved Rus at the shop, sure, but he could’ve let his brother get away with his little threat session without trying to intercede, could’ve let his old buddy Blaze keep Rus and not endangered himself at all getting him out of there.

Edge said he wasn’t a good guy and maybe, okay, probably that was true, but that wasn’t exactly the side he’d been showing Rus, not quite. He’d been trying to clean up the mess he’d accidentally made and here was Rus, trying to barter for a little extra on the side. The more he thought about it, the more humiliating it was; he’d actually tried to…to sell himself to Edge, a guy who could obviously get sex anytime he wanted, just because he’d confessed to having a bit of a fantasy going about him, like Rus wasn’t guilty of the same sort of idle daydream.

A very bad person, he’d said, but he’d still sent Rus away rather than taking what he was offering, and maybe the whys of that weren’t completely clear, but that didn’t seem like something a bad guy would do. It just didn’t.

Which meant that Rus was the asshole for this round and what he wouldn’t give for a damn cigarette right about now. Nicotine cravings were already making him jittery, but his smokes were in his lost bag. That reminder gave him a pang; he was going to miss all those anime pins, he’d been collecting them since before they got to the surface. Kidnapping was one thing, stealing his hard-found collectibles was another level of jerk.

Well, no matter what Edge’s reasons were for turning him down, all Rus could hope was that he had the decency not to bring it up in front of Blue.

Rus shut the water off, snagging a large, fluffy towel to wipe off. His bones were barely dry as he stepped out onto the bathmat, careful not to slip. A concussion on top of everything was all he needed.

He hung the damp towel up next to his brother’s and inspected the clothes in the stack. As suspected, they were new, every item of it down to the undershorts and socks. Not his normal choice of wardrobe; when he wasn’t at the shop Rus normally preferred T-shirts and shorts, and there was a plentiful cheap supply at the local thrift shop. He wasn’t really used to anyone else picking out his underwear and he debated on whether to leave them off before sighing and skimming on the soft cotton shorts. At least it wasn’t a red satin thong or something, he wasn’t sure he could stand sitting in the same room with that Red guy with something like that trying to saw his pelvis in half.

The dark trousers fitted perfectly and so did the soft linen pullover, not the wine color of last night’s borrowed pajamas, but a deep sage green that contrasted nicely with his magic. Everything was exactly the right size and as odd as that was, Rus supposed it was still better than them raiding their house and going through their drawers. But he did wonder glumly how much this might add to their growing tab.

There was a full-length mirror on one wall and Rus looked into it, studying his reflection. He didn’t look like himself, which was fine, because he damn well didn’t feel like himself, either. Probably hadn’t since Edge jumped the counter at the shop and pulled him down to the floor.

His half-hour was about up, there was no putting it off any longer. Blue looked up anxiously when he came out and Rus summoned up his best cheesy grin and struck a pose, “ta-da, how do i look?”

“Very nice,” Blue told him, even as he gestured at Rus to lean down so he could fuss over his collar, smoothing it. “try not to spill anything down the front of it in the first five minutes?”

“do my best, food and gravity don’t always mix well around me.”

He followed his brother to the door where a comfortable pair of house shoes in his size were lined up neatly to the side waiting for him. Not, Rus noted, the kind meant to be worn outside. His own sneakers were nowhere to be seen and yeah, he could take a hint. ‘Stay put’ was the word, for now.

A Dog was standing guard outside the door and Rus was shamefully relieved that it wasn’t the same guy as last night. He led them on another winding path and seriously, did the guy who designed this place go on to find fame and fortune making labyrinths for other Goblin Kings?

The door he led them to opened into a surprisingly airy room, with windowed French doors letting in the morning sunshine. Red was already seated at the head of a table and the cigar in his hand was thankfully unlit. His gold tooth glinted as he grinned, “mornin’, hope ya slept well.”

“We did, thank you,” Blue said. Rus only nodded along with him. He still wasn’t very interested in getting chatty with Mister ‘make it a double’ over there. If Edge really was as bad as he claimed to be, Rus could sure see where he picked it up from.

The table was long, topped in covered trays and platters, and the second Blue and Rus were seated, the lids were whisked away by the Dogs. Rus kinda thought he was getting to his limits of surprise, but it seemed like he still had some stashed away for a special occasion.

The amount of food laid out was staggering; surrounding the crystal goblets of water and orange juice were bowls of prettily cut fruit, a platter of sticky pastries alongside crusty croissants. More plates that held richly browned sausages and crispy bacon, and there was an entire tray pancakes and waffles snuggled next to each other with a steaming pitcher of syrup beside them. Pan-grilled tomatoes, poached eggs nestled into their cups, this was more food than they saw in a week. Every dish held something delectable and Rus wasn’t sure his roiling magic would let him eat a single bite.

Looked like the dial on this place actually went all the way up to twelve.

“Goodness,” Blue said, a little helplessly, “it certainly looks delicious.”

There was an air of something like smugness around Red, as if their obvious surprise pleased him, “eh, wasn’t sure what you liked, so i had ‘em bring in a lil’ of everythin’.”

A little of everything was one way to put it. Normally, a good breakfast in Rus’s opinion was when Blue splurged on the oatmeal with the dinosaur eggs.

Red picked up his fork and gestured at the table. “go ahead, dig in while it’s hot.”

Blue tucked his napkin into his lap first in that exaggerated way he did things that he expected Rus to mimic. “Shouldn’t we wait for your brother?”

“nah,” And Rus wasn’t sure why he was bothering with a napkin when it was clear their host didn’t mind talking around a mouthful of sausage. He at least swallowed before he added, “i shook him outta bed a bit ago, he’ll be down.”

That seemed to be enough to satisfy Blue’s sense of propriety. He began to fill his plate, taking a small portion from each tray. Rus only chose one of the pastries that had a quivering dollop of jam on top so that he had something to pick at, hyperaware of the way Red was watching them.

It made Rus think of a horror movie he’d seen, where a pale man hung around waiting for anyone who dared eat from his banquet and those that did paid the price for it with their lives.

Yeah, whatever, Red was no pale man, no eldritch horror. He was a thug playing dress up to impress them for some damn reason, trying to show off how much better he was. Wasn’t gonna work on Rus, thanks, Blue had twice the manners of this asshole, and when Red’s supposedly well-paid servants were scraping all this into the trash, Blue would still be the one who spent hours making cookies for the neighborhood kids in his rare time off.

Defiantly, Rus took a huge bite of pastry, cheekbones puffing out and Blue didn’t even have a chance to kick him in the knee for his manners when the door was flung open and Edge stalked inside.

“morning, bro,” Red said easily. Edge only gave a surly grunt in return, heading right to the sidebar where a gleaming machine with too many dials and knobs sat. A few twists and clicks, and it started gurgling, filling the air with the gorgeous aroma of coffee and if it weren’t for the awkward ending to how Rus tried to get into Edge’s pants last night, he would have crawled over the table with a cup held out in a modern take on ‘please sir can I have some more’.

Look, he couldn’t be bought with fancy clothes or food, but coffee was on a different playing field.

Since that wasn’t on the table, (heh), instead Rus chewed frantically, still trying to gulp down his overflowing mouthful of dry pastry when Edge turned around with a freshly filled cup in hand. He nearly choked on his first sip as he caught sight of the table, swinging around to give his brother a positively scathing glare.

Ah. Looked like maybe Red neglected to mention they’d be here. Great.

“Good morning,” Edge said, scowling into his cup. He was already impeccably dressed in one of those suits of his, but the normal rasp in his voice was downright hoarse and beneath his sockets were rusty stains of exhaustion. He didn’t look like he’d slept two winks after Rus left him last night.

“are you—” okay, Rus didn’t say, looked back down at his plate. Like he had any right to ask Edge anything after what he did.

Turned out, he wasn’t the only one concerned. Blue never ignored a chance to play caretaker and he was all but standing in his chair, leaning across the table anxiously. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Edge, but you look a touch under the weather, are you feeling all right?”

“I’m afraid it’s self-inflicted,” Edge said. He took another long sip from his mug, clearing his throat before adding smoothly, “My apologies, I had a little too much to drink last night.”

That only seemed to up Blue’s concern, probably worrying it was their fault Edge was spending his night drinking, which, well, it sort of was. At least half their fault, anyway, and Rus stared hard at his plate where the bitten pastry was oozing jam like a wound.

“But self-inflicted doesn’t mean you need to suffer,” Blue objected. “I know how to heal, I could—”

“Thank you,” Edge interrupted firmly, “but no.”

“It’s no trouble at all!”

“I’m sure it’s not. I appreciate the offer, but it won’t be necessary.”

“But—"

Rus kept his head down, picking flecks of sugar glaze off his wounded pastry as he waited for Edge’s immovable object to stop butting against Blue’s unstoppable force. A wary glance at Red showed him leaning back in his seat with his hands woven together over his belly, watching the show.

Yeah, he seemed like the kind of guy to think this was hilarious and considering that their height difference made Blue the metaphorical dachshund barking at the great dane’s ankles, Rus had to admit, Red sort of had a point. This time.

Blue looked as if he were chewing on his own tongue instead of a pancake, complaining, “If I could get to my garden, I’d at least make you some tea. It’s my own blend!”

Tea wasn’t a bad idea, really, not nearly as invasive as letting someone use their own magic directly on you. Golden flower tea, infused with the magic Blue used to tend to their gardens and like all Monster food, it had healing qualities. Rus knew from personal experience it tended to be quite potent.

“Coffee will suffice,” Edge said decisively and that seemed to be the end of it.

“Well, at least sit down and get some food in you. It’s been a while since my brother and I had a chance to share breakfast,” Blue said brightly. “He’s usually off to open the shop while I tend to the garden, it’s been mostly cold cereal for us, I’m afraid.”

“All I want is coffee, I need to get downtown.”

Red spoke up at then, “that ain’t no way to treat your guests.”

“We don’t have guests,” Edge snapped.

“no?” Red let out a short, abrupt laugh, though his glittering eye lights held no humor. “you got a better name, bro?”

Rus had a few. Prisoners, kidnappees, captives? Hostages? None of those seemed to quite fit the bill and maybe Edge was thinking the same thing. “I brought one guest. The other is here entirely because of you, so I believe entertainment is your purview.”

“only fair for me to have a pal if you do.”

“Yes, fair,” Edge said dryly. “Fairness is always a concern of yours.”

“hey.” That tone made Rus want to sit up straight and cringe at the same time, iron-hard. “have a seat, boss.”

Boss? Rus gave up on his attempt to blend into the furniture and looked up, reluctantly curious. Red caught him out almost instantly and his cool glare shifted to an easy, lazy grin.

“don’t need to be so surprised, sweetheart, edge is the one who runs things ‘round here,” Red said lazily. “i do this and that, let him handle th’ important shit. always was fuckin’ terrible at paperwork.”

Next to him, Blue was chewing determinedly, stabbing at his sausages with his fork. It was probably killing him not to chide Red about his language, but he was also their host. Torn between one set of manners and another left him at a silent impasse.

Edge gave his brother another scathing glare but didn’t argue. “I need to get to work.”

He set his coffee cup down on the side of the table with a solid thunk, turning towards the door, and he was going to leave, heading out when he wasn’t at his best where there were people trying to kill him and Rus wouldn’t even have a chance to say anything, to explain, he couldn’t—

“i’m sorry!” Rus blurted out as he shot to his feet, knocking against the table hard enough to rattle the glasses and flatware. “i’m so sorry, for last night. i didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Edge froze. Slowly, he turned back to face Rus, looking down at him and Rus met that unwavering crimson gaze without flinching, despite the frantic pounding in his soul. He wasn’t good at this, not with apologies or confrontation; he’d rather go hide and smoke through a pack of cheap Marlboros until he was sick while wishing for this to all go away. But he couldn’t let Edge go out there thinking…well, thinking whatever he did about Rus. By now he had to be catching on to the fact that his fantasies weren’t anything close to Rus’s reality and that was what it was, but at least Rus wanted that reality to be the truth and not tainted by one thoughtless act.

Edge looked away first, flicking a glance at Blue and Red, both who were watching with varying levels of narrow confusion.

“Forthright,” Edge murmured. His tight, cold expression eased, softening, “I’m sorry, too, flower shop. I was a little drunk, and I shouldn’t have,” his gaze flicked again to Red, who was watching with brow bones climbing ever higher on his forehead, and Blue, who was full out gaping, mouth open. Whatever he’d been about to say was amended smoothly to, “Shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“okay, so we’re both sorry. that’s…that’s good.” Rus smiled a little, stupidly. It wasn’t like this solved anything or changed it. It still made that hard ache behind his breastbone loosen, gave him some measure of ease.

That faint, lopsided smile curving Edge’s mouth was even better. Rus braced himself when Edge reached out, then he watched in confusion as Edge plucked up a napkin, dabbing lightly at the side of Rus’s mouth. “Jam,” he said, as if in explanation. As though anything could explain the way he paused with his knuckles lightly resting against Rus’s chin, his gloved thumb following along the same path as the napkin, “Behave while I’m gone. I’m running low on rescues.”

It took a second for that to get through the warm, fuzzy haze settling over Rus, brought on by the gentle touch against his mouth. When it did, he stood up straighter in pure indignation, protesting, “i wasn’t misbehaving before!”

“No, you weren’t,” Edge agreed. “But somehow, you’ve already figured out how to cause me plenty of trouble, I’d hate to see what you manage if you actually tried.”

Rus swore he could feel the husky rumble of that voice through Edge’s touch, but it was another voice that broke the spell, this one as jagged as broken glass.

“thought you were leavin', boss,” Red sounded perturbed and he seemed to have forgotten his quest to get Edge to sit down to breakfast with them.

Edge said nothing. There was only a last brush of his gloved fingers across Rus’s cheekbone, satin-soft over the lingering bruise. Then he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Rus alone with an outraged Red and his own suspicious brother.

Rude. Guess rescues didn’t include from family.

Welp, Edge might like to play the knight in tarnished armor, but for Rus, he was going with abject cowardice. He started filling his plate with food, ignoring the way Edge’s cologne seemed to cling to where he’d touched and replaced that aroma with tasty bacon.

“this’s really good,” Rus said around a mouthful, risking his brother’s wrath as he shoveled in another bite. If he kept eating, he couldn’t say anything stupid.

It was worth a shot.

Edge’s half-filled coffee cup was still sitting on the table and with a mental shrug Rus stole it, downing the bitter blackness in a shuddering gulp. Waste not the caffeine. He had a feeling from the way Red and Blue were still staring at him that he was probably gonna need all the help he could get.

tbc

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#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #mafia AU

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ionlydatesassyelves · 4 years

Text

mods are asleep post more gay drabbles it's the only flavor i can write

modern human au where L and Luigi are seperate people who have to deal with each other, and then they also have to deal with Dimentio. because that's the only other flavor i can write.

((will format correctly in the morning because fuck tumblr mobile))

~~~~~

L wasn't entirely certain when a street performer had set up a magic show in front of his mechanic shop, but it didn't seem to be driving away business, so for now he ignored it. For several weeks, actually, he did a stellar job of ignoring it.

The performer stopped him one day on his way into work, sauntered into his path before the crowd with a dazzling smile. He conjured a rose for L and offered it with a bow, the trick met with cheers and applause.

L scoffed and moved to step around the attention whore, but his path was blocked again. "Not one for flowers, then?" the shorter man sang. He pulled the scarf from his own neck, wrapped it around the delicate rose, and pulled it away with a flourish.

He now held a bouquet of rusty wrenches and screwdrivers wrapped in colorful paper.

L couldn't help it, he laughed, the whole crowd laughing and applauding as well. The man bowed again, and this time L accepted the gift, and he was at last allowed to go on his way.

He pulled the bouquet apart once he entered the shop--not excellent tools, gathered probably from the dump, but the gesture was still hilarious. Once L had unwrapped the paper, he found a card nestled among the tools. No number to call, no elaboration on the givers identity. Only a name.

"Dimentio"

L tried very hard not to hope Dimentio would be hanging around outside his shop again, but he couldn't help being glad to see the thin boy stood up on a box and talking excitedly to the crowd before him.

L elected to spare five minutes to be late for work and watch a couple of Dimentio's tricks. Dimentio smiled when he spotted him in the crowd, asked him to pick a card at one point and summoned it from a little girls knit cap. The girl was delighted, her mother twofold, and she let the little girl hand Dimentio a sizeable tip at the end of the show.

L was more than disappointed he couldn't spare the cash to at least tip Dimentio. He knew Luigi often liked to leave a parting gift for hard working performers that had made him smile, and Dimentio had done that two days in a row. Which was not an easy feat, given L's situation.

The thought pressed firmly at the back of his mind all day. Eventually, he decided to take an early lunch and bolted to catch Dimentio outside.

The performer was gathering tricks and props into a worn duffle bag by this hour, moving onto a different spot. L called out to him before he could go, and Dimentio seemed surprised to see him again.

"I'm afraid you've missed the encore," he teasingly replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Nah, I got enough of your flashy tricks, thanks," L returned. He jogged over to meet Dimentio on the corner, and it was more apparent without the box that Dimentio stood more than a full head shorter than him. It was also more apparent he wasn't wearing shoes.

L frowned down at the sidewalk, taking in the boys pale toes and wondering if he was okay. It wasn't the coldest of the year yet, but it was still far from warm.

Dimentio shifted in place, seemingly eager to get on. He smiled at L anyway. "To what do I owe the pleasure then?"

L ran a hand through his messy hair. He was never very good at this. "You eat yet?"

There was a laugh, and L smiled again. It was different than the stage laugh. Dimentio choked on it a little suddenly, and his voice cracked on the end of it. "Was than an invitation?"

L snorted and jerked his head over his shoulder, walking back towards his shop. He was thrilled that Dimentio followed him.

There wasn't much to the shop, but there was a small, worn couch tucked away in a tiny back room where L could retreat to relax and warm up a little. Dimentio left his pack at the door and happily settled onto the couch with his legs folded under him. L tried not to sit too close to him, but it was difficult to not squish in the small space.

L brewed hot coffee for them both and they shared the sack lunch L had brought for the day. He tried to get Dimentio to eat the whole sandwich, insisting he could make something later, but Dimentio refused to touch more than half of anything.

They sat and talked in the warm little nook for some time longer than they probably should have, but eventually Dimentio went on his way.

L didn't mean to go on and on to Luigi every time this happened afterwards, but eventually Luigi encouraged him to take enough food for L and Dimentio to both have a decent lunch. Gradually, their dates became routine enough that Dimentio swung by the shop even when he had been performing elsewhere that morning.

L didn't quite realize he had a crush until the afternoon the windchill picked up and he gave Dimentio an old coat. It swallowed him up, but he had thanked L sincerely, and stood on tiptoes to give L a kiss on the cheek before he left that day. L didn't want to admit he had spent the rest of the day finding his fingers softly touching the spot, but he did.

It was three dates after that when L finally worked up the nerve to scoot closer to Dimentio on the couch and kiss him fully. Dimentio was so quick to slide his arms around L and return the deep kiss. They wound up making out on the couch, and it wouldnt be the first time.

------

Luigi got to meet Dimentio three weeks after the first time L had invited him to lunch. Usually he kept to the quiet, shambly part of the city, but he'd been visiting a friend on that end of town and ran into Luigi on his way to work, mistaking him for L. They had laughed at the mix up, but Luigi was glad to meet Dimentio at last, and Dimentio was thrilled to discover L had been talking about him.

Dimentio had neglected to tease L about it later that day, but when Luigi told him that night his boyfriend was indeed very cute, the flowers and lovebites L had to come home with suddenly made sense.

Luigi and L both began to look forward to Dimentio brightening their days, either in the silly gifts he would conjure for Luigi before work, or the warm kisses he snuck around L's shop to steal. It wasn't uncommon for Dimentio to come up in conversation while Luigi and L ate dinner together.

Winter rolled around, and they began to wonder more and more where Dimentio called home. If he was safe at night, or at least warm.

L stayed up later pacing some nights, wondering where Dimentio might be and if he was okay. Some days his make out session with the preformer turned into something more, and L could give Dimentio an hour or more of warmth and comfort. But Dimentio always left into the bitter cold with L's old jacket pulled tight around his thin form, bare feet against the cold sidewalk, but no less a spring in his step or spark in his smile.

L began working late and hoarding spare change, cutting little treats for himself where he could to gather up a little bit of extra cash. When Luigi finally asked what he was up to, if he needed help with anything, L admitted he wanted to get Dimentio something warm to wear. At least some new shoes. Luigi gave him the sweetest, warmest smile, and began working overtime as well, adding extra tips to L's fund.

L was beyond tickled the day he finally could lead Dimentio into his worn shop hand in hand. After they ate and exchanged their usual quips, L reached behind the couch and handed Dimentio a very large plastic bag. They couldn't do much to wrap the gift, but Dimentio took it with a bewildered grin. "What is this, now?"

"Call it an early Christmas..." L muttered, sitting back and trying to appear as casual as possible. He was sitting on pins and needles, praying Dimentio didn't notice.

Dimentio eagerly set to digging through the bag, but his motions soon slowed. He pulled out two large, fluffy sweaters in bright colors, and a wool scarf with matching hat, holding all the items in a bundle against his chest. He turned and gave L a shaky smile, like he was waiting for the punchline. "...is this for me?"

"Yeah, it's for you," L almost laughed. "Don't want you to fuckin blow away in the wind out there."

Dimentio turned very quickly back to the gifts in his lap. He looked like he might cry. He busied himself instead pulling the box from the bottom of the bag and opening the lid with a quiet gasp.

"They're a little worn..." L apologized as Dimentio ran his fingers thoughtfully over the black boots. "We found them at a thrift store but, uh... I really didn't want you to freeze..."

Dimentio smiled, and choked a little. "I love them." he said quietly.

He tried them on, and they were a size too big, but only half a size with the colorful wool socks Luigi had tucked into the box. They were big and bulky especially since Dimentio didn't bother lacing them, but they somehow suited him when he kicked his legs back and forth on the couch, and L couldn't help smiling.

He pressed his face into L's shoulder and wrapped his arms tightly around the larger man. "I love them," he repeated.

L tried not to respond "I love you too."

Dimentio hung out around the shop the rest of the day, leaving only when L locked up for the night. L insisted he might as well come over for dinner, but Dimentio fidgeted anxiously and insisted he couldn't owe L any more favors.

L wrapped both arms around Dimentio and kissed him slow and deep. "You don't owe me. Just stay safe, okay?"

Dimentio winked, adjusting his scarf around his face to hide the bright blush coloring his cheeks. "No promises."

L bit his lip, but he steeled his nerves and tightening his grip before dimentio's fingers could slip from his. He had to know. "You got somewhere warm to sleep right?"

Dimentio gave L a peck on the cheek and squeezed his hand. "I'll find somewhere."

And then he left.

L couldn't sleep that night.

The thought of Dimentio huddled in the freezing streets was keeping him up. He had already been sick with worry, but previously he could chalk it up to paranoia. Now it had been confirmed, Dimentio was homeless. It wasn't fair. Nothing was in this awful city, but that especially tore L up.

Four times, L almost asked Luigi if he could invite Dimentio to stay. But every time he tried to come up with a reason, he felt like he was asking to keep a dog, which was both insulting to Dimentio's independence and throwing another burden on Luigi. L hated both of those things, so four times, he shut his mouth.

The fifth time had been an impromptu trip to the grocery store, stocking up on essentials. L had commented idly on people looking like they were preparing for the apocalypse.

"Its probably the storm," Luigi had carelessly reminded him.

"...what storm?" L asked, face melting to horror.

Luigi sighed a little as he compared their cart to their list. "I told you, there's supposed to be a blizzard rolling in tomorrow. They say the streets are going to freeze. Oh--remind me to leave the water running tonight, we're fucked if the pipes freeze too."

L couldn't help his knee jerk response. "Dimentio's homeless."

Luigi's eyes flew up to meet L's, wide and shocked. He knew what that meant. "What?" he asked anyway.

"Dimentio's homeless," L repeated, his voice shaking. "He's out on the streets, I don't think he has anywhere to go."

Luigi took that in for about three seconds, then took a deep, steadying breath. "Let's hurry up here and get this home, then we'll see if we can find him."

-----

Luigi almost wrecked the car when L spotted Dimentio from the passengers seat and just jumped out onto the sidewalk. L ignored the frustrated scolding behind him and bolted towards the performer.

Dimentio had taken shelter from the falling snow on a high slope beneath a bridge, but when L climbed up he discovered that Dimentio was already shivering. He was bundled in several layers, but his nose and ears were already a pale shade of blue.

"Get up, you're coming with us," L said sternly, not waiting for a reply as he grabbed Dimentio's bag and slung it over his own shoulder.

"N-no, L, it's... d-d-don't--" Dimentio tried to stutter out a protest, but he was shivering too hard in the howling wind.

His effort was interrupted by L scooping him up off the ground--all the clothes put together probably weighed more than Dimentio himself. "I don't want to hear it. We're going home."

Dimentio didn't argue with that.

Luigi had managed to stop the car nearby when L struggled back down the hill with Dimentio in his arms. L didn't think much about taking the backseat on the ride home and holding Dimentio in his lap, but the preformer didn't seem very intent on moving, so no one questioned it.

Granted the rickety apartment wasn't much, especially for three people, but anything was better in a blizzard. Luigi took Dimentio immediately into the bathroom and showed him how the shower worked, told him to get clean and more importantly, warm. He left Dimentio a soft towel and some of his own cozy pajamas, and Dimentio still seemed at a loss for words.

While he was in the shower, Luigi made a warm soup for dinner and L busied himself cleaning space in his own room for Dimentio's things and piling spare blankets onto his bed.

Dimentio arrived in Luigi's pajamas and the coat he'd been wearing, and L traded it for a softer hoodie. He was still a little uncertain, but he seemed happier and at least the color of a healthy human again.

The three piled on the couch together and ate soup out of mismatched bowls, watching TV as they chatted late into the night.

Before they headed to bed, Luigi got Dimentio to gather up what little clothes he owned so he could wash them in the morning. Luigi also produced a spare toothbrush for Dimentio they "happened" to have, and certainly hadn't bought that day hoping and praying they would find Dimentio tonight.

Dimentio was grinning ear to ear by the time everyone was getting ready to settle into bed. L insisted Dimentio keep his bed tonight, and went to the couch himself, but the preformer clung to him and bashfully asked if L would be willing to stay.

They snuggled into bed together, squished in the small space, but warm and happy to hold onto each other. They whispered in the dark for several hours before falling asleep, sneaking in soft kisses here and there.

The storm did end up snowing them in for several days, and Dimentio was happier to be in the house with each passing hour. Dimentio taught them both several card tricks, and Luigi taught Dimentio new, flashy ways to shuffle the deck. They traded stories about the ongoing struggle against the upper class, laughed over preparing meals, and snuggled together in the quiet.

On the fifth day, news reports began to state that the worst of the storm had passed, and streets should begin to get clear. The weather in the early morning channels also seemed to indicate that the danger of freezing outside would be gone.

L found Dimentio staring out of a window soon following the newscast, watching the snow fall on the empty streets outside. L sat behind him and slid his arms around Dimentio's thin waist, and the smaller man leaned back against his chest. "So I have bad news," L began with a sigh.

"Mm." was all Dimentio said.

"The truth is, we've kidnapped you," he announced grimly.

Dimentio snorted, and L could just make out his smile in the window reflection. "Is that so?"

"Unfortunately, yes, you've actually been a hostage this entire time," L went on in a deadpan, sarcastic tone. He propped his chin on Dimentio's head, and a sigh ruffled his curly hair. "I'm afraid you're going to have to stay forever."

Dimentio's grin crept a little wider. His hands wandered up and rested over L's. "Unfortunate indeed... and if I were to refuse?"

"Well, Luigi gets attached easily, so you might make him cry," L informed him.

"Hmm. Tragic." Dimentio hummed. "You're not one for tears, are you?"

L shrugged carelessly. "Nah. I'd just drag you back here. What do you weigh, like eight pounds?"

"Probably six," Dimentio agreed. He squeezed the toned muscle of L's forearms latched around his waist and teased "Hardly a struggle, even for a weak shrimp like you."

L laughed into Dimentio's hair, and squeezed the performer tighter against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of Dimentio's head and murmured "I want you to stay. We both do."

Dimentio bit his lower lip - a failed attempt to control the excited grin on his face. His hands squeezed awkwardly around L's wrists, and he sucked in a short, thrilled gasp. "I'd love to," he managed.

#dimentio #mr l #luigi #superstars #writing #drabbles #lmentio #back 👏 on 👏 my 👏 bullshit 👏#i love my shitlord L i want to write and draw him again

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deermi · 4 years

Text

Pink Roses | Part 4 (Final)

Summarry: Chanyeol was coming everyday with his pink hair and a bright smile. You didn’t even bother asking what he wanted because he always bought one type of flowers. And one day he didn’t.

Gnere: Fluff, angst if you squint

Warnings: literally one suggestive comment

AU: Florist

Pairing: Park Chanyeol x Reader

Word count: 4,5k~

Author’s note: I have a love-hate relationship with finishing a series, haha. And I will really miss cute Chanyeol and the lovely flowery vibe this fic has. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for staying and reading the whole series!

My phone started to ring on the other side of the room interrupting me softly humming to myself as I was watering the succulents standing next to the entrance to the florist. I took a quick glance at the counter from where the sound of the ringtone was coming and put the watering can on the floor. I swiped my hands into the apron I was wearing and quickly moved to the back of the store to check who was calling me.

I reached the counter and grabbed my phone in a swift motion. A smile appeared on my face immediately after I saw Chanyeol’s name showing on the screen. I ran my hand through my hair and quickly picked up.

“Hi.” I greeted him as cheerfully as I usually did

I got really used to Chanyeol calling me everyday - sometimes he called me once, but usually it was at least twice. This routine of him dialing my phone number whenever he finished his lectures, or just at any other time of the day when he felt like doing so, became in a short notice something we both got used to. From time to time he called me with a bigger issue he wanted to talk about, but our talks were mostly chit-chats and him saying that he’s just ‘checking on me’. Actually almost every time he did that, he’d right away come to visit the florist, and after helping me close the shop he would walk me home. It was some kind of mini habit we shared together.

“Hi.” he answered with his, now so familiar, deep voice “I was wondering whether you’re free this evening? Baekhyun is inviting some of our friends over for his mini birthday meet up.”

“Are you sure that he wouldn’t mind if I came over?” my brows furrowed slightly at his words

It wasn’t like Baekhyun and I didn’t like each other or something like this. Actually, now that Chanyeol and I were spending much more time together, we got really used to the other’s presence and we began to get along well. The thing I was concerned about was that if it had been Baekhyun's party, he should’ve been the one suggesting that I come, and I didn’t want to intrude. What if he just wanted to spend time with his closest friends?

“Of course not.” Chanyeol reassured me “He told me to tell you to come over if you want and have some free time this evening.”

Another small smile appeared on my face.

“Well…” I let out a sigh of fake annoyance to tease him “Since I don’t have anything planned for today, I guess I’ll come.”

“Damn, I didn’t know you were such a busy person, Y/N.” his laugh from the other side of the phone filled my ears “It’s probably easier to schedule a meeting with the president than one with you.”

Him cracking another one of his jokes, to which I got so used to, made me laugh quietly and I could almost picture him smiling proudly in return as if he had been standing right in front of me. I had noticed that he had this habit of grinning after pulling off a good one-liner. It was this sort of satisfactory sign he was sending to himself unconsciously as a reward for cheering the other person up.

“Okay, but now seriously.” I leaned myself on the counter as I spoke “What time can I come?”

“Whenever you feel like it. You know you’re welcome at our place at any time.”

My visits to their apartment also became more frequent. I pooped in every now and then during the weekends when I didn’t have work, but most of the times it was Chanyeol coming to ‘The Twisted Tulip’. Usually he would help me with some chores I had to do at the shop when I was serving the customers, or when there was nobody else but us we would just sit behind the counter and chat.

“I’m supposed to be closing the florist at five.” I said “But I think that I’ll go home after. You know, just to grab a snack, change and stuff. But I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Yeah, sure.” Chanyeol was never the type to put pressure on me or anybody else “Take your time. I’ll pick you up at six if you want.”

My heart skipped a bit at his proposition.

“I’d love that.” the smile on my face was growing even wider with each passing second

“Great!” he exclaimed a little too excitedly, but by that time I was used to his unstoppable outbursts of enthusiasm at the smallest matters “See you later than!”

I answered him with a quick ‘bye’ and hung up. With a loud sigh I put my phone in between my palms. The breaths I was taking were so deep that probably if someone walked inside the florist they would’ve thought that I’m having an asthma attack or something of this kind. I remained leaned against the counter andey the scent of freshly cut flowers fill my nostrils.

My doubts about my own feelings towards Chanyeol started to run through my head. He was the kindest person I have ever met and he always made sure that I was smiling. And the fact that he was extremely good looking wasn’t helping at all. Chan was probably the only person in the whole world I could never say no to whenever he asked me for something. The problem was, that he didn’t really act like only a ‘friend’ with me. I had a feeling like the relationship we had was that one type of relationship in which you know that something’s going on between the two of you, but nobody wants to admit anything. Most probably because they’re scared of rejection or having simply misunderstood the other’s friendly actions. And I hated this weird stadium of our even weirder relationship with passion.

But perhaps all of those things were just what my imagination wanted me to see.

“Coming!” I shouted when I heard the sound of the doorbell coming from outside the kitchen. I put the empty mug that was filled with coffee just a few seconds before down on the counter and rushed to open the door.

The next moment Chanyeol was standing in front of me with the usual grin on his face. The colorful, flowery shirt he was wearing and messed cotton candy hair made me feel like his smile was even brighter as he leaned against the frame and slowly scanned my body.

“Ready?” he asked me playfully

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag and we can go.” I turned around and started to walk to the small sofa where I had left my purse, but on my way I snapped my head back at him “I like your shirt by the way.”

“Thanks.” he looked down at the piece of clothing he was wearing “I knew you would like it.”

I grabbed my purse and swiftly hung it over my shoulder before facing Chanyeol again with my eyebrows raised.

“Because it has flowers on it?”

The boy just shrugged at me and moved so I could walk past him “That was supposed to be the main reason.”

We got out of my small apartment and I grabbed the keys out of the bag to close the doors behind us.

“You know that if something has flowers on it doesn’t mean I am going to instantly like it, right?” I teased him, still focused on putting the key in the lock and turning it around in a quick motion

“Yeah, but you own a florist and seem to like plants in general.” now Chanyeol was leaning on the wall right next to me

“A thing doesn’t need to have flowers on it to make me think that it’s at least decent.”

The keys landed back in my bag right next to my phone and my wallet with a muffled jingle.

“And what if I told you that I had put the shirt for you? Because I had thought you’d like it?” he raised his eyebrows at me playfully, but they almost completely disappeared under the fluffy locks falling down on his forehead “What would you say than?”

We began walking towards the exit of the building and I felt his fingers gently brushing against mine with each move. For people watching from afar it would’ve looked like something accidental, but it wasn’t the first time Chanyeol did that. And despite the fact that I should’ve been at least somehow used to this kind of affection, there was no way I could’ve hidden the pink blush slowly spreading on my face from him. So I just looked down at myself pretending to be very occupied with the non existent folds on my dress.

“I would say that I really appreciate the fact that you consider my opinion important when it comes to your outfit choices.” my tone was steady, but it was extremely hard to keep it that way with the beating of my heart and the feeling of blood running to my cheeks “And I probably would also say ‘thank you’.”

He chuckled and opened the door for me The first thing I saw after exiting the block of flats was a black car parked in such a messy way, that there was not even a small chance somebody else but Chanyeol could’ve been sitting behind the steering wheel before.

“So the limousine has arrived.” the boy just hopped in front of me and presented the vehicle proudly

I shifted my weight and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I thought we would be taking the bus or a taxi. I didn’t know you had a car.” I said with a gentle shake of my head “And especially such an expensive car. Or just one looking like an expensive.”

Chanyeol walked up to it and held the passenger’s door open for me so I could take a seat inside.

“It is expensive, I can’t lie. But it’s not mine.” he declared as I sat down putting the bag on my knees “It’s Junmyeon’s. He told me I could use it to pick you up. So, no, I don’t have a car. The only thing I have is a driving license, but my parents told me they are not going to get me my own car after I bumped their into a fire hydrant the other day.”

I laughed trying to picture the scene he had just described in my head, when he closed the door and walked around to the other side to sit behind the steering wheel.

“Is Junmyeon that one friend you told me about?” I asked when he jumped into the seat next to me “The one who’s parents are growing money on trees in their garden?”

“Exactly.” he sent me a nod and started the engine while we both fastened our seatbelts “And putting the jokes aside, I’m almost sure that they really do own money trees.”

I sunk into the leather seat at his words.

“God, now I’m scared of meeting him.”

“I swear to you Junmyeon is normal.” Chanyeol’s eyes were focused on the road as he spoke “He’s not like one of those rich, spoiled kids you read about in books. And he’s definitely not the type to show off.”

I put my elbow next to the window and looked out of the it, watching the city passing us as we strolled down the streets.

“You’re lucky I trust you.” the sigh I let out was loud and deep

For the next ten minutes of our ride we just chatted about random stuff that came up to our minds just like we usually did. Talking with Chanyeol came so easily for me - for some reason I felt like I’ve known him for much longer than I actually did. It was like I could tell him everything and I perfectly knew that he wouldn’t judge me regardless of what my word would be. Maybe it was his personality, his general attitude towards everything, and how effortlessly he was making other people smile, but it also might’ve been because of the feelings slowly boiling inside me. Every single day I had spent with Chan made them grow stronger and harder to get rid of.

I wasn’t exactly scared of them. Yes, having a crush can be overwhelming eventually, but it wasn’t quite my main concern at that time. The thing that worried me the most was how Chanyeol’s previous relationship had ended and how he had almost broken down in front of me after it had happened. Also I really didn’t want to ruin what we already had. I was torn apart between enjoying and getting slowly fed up with it.

“Y/N?”

His voice made me snap out of my thoughts so I turned my head abruptly to face him.

“You keep spacing out more often these days.” he chuckled at the surprised expression on my face

“Sorry…” I mumbled, looking away “What did you say?”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s kinda cute when you do that.” his eyes were looking at everything but at me “Anyways, I said ‘let’s go’.

Only then I noticed that the car had stopped and I couldn’t hear the engine working anymore. Chanyeol parked the vehicle in the same messy way as he had done it before in front of the building I was living it and unbuckled his seatbelt. I quickly did the same thing and and we synchronically got out.

After walking inside the building and taking the elevator, we stood in front of the door I had become so familiar with in the past weeks.

Without any warning Chanyeol opened them and loudly announced startling both me and the rest of the people inside “We’re here!”

The soft, chill beat coming from a small speaker reached my ears and the smell of something sweet mixed with a hint of alcohol filled my nostrils. Baekhyun had been previously sitting on the couch, his arm lazily thrown over the shoulders of a black haired girl next to him, but swiftly got up to greet us. I looked around the apartment and noticed two more guys and one more girl.

I felt a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach as I realized that the only person I only knew one more person expect Chanyeol inside here.

“I hope my car is still working and it won’t require taking it to the mechanic.” another boy walked out of the kitchen and handed both of us glasses filled with black liquid

“Yeah, yeah, nothing happened as I promised.” Chanyeol rolled his eyes “So, Y/N, this is Junmyeon the owner of the cool car.”

I smiled at him and shook his hand gently. Junmyeon was exactly like Chan had told me - completely normal without even a small touch of unnecessary fancy vibe coming from him.

“Okay, guys, this is Y/N.” my friend placed his free hand on the small of my back, pushed me smoothly further into the living room and started pointing at his friends, one after another, with his glass almost spilling the drink inside “This is Kyungsoo, Jongdae, Yoojin and Nayoung.”

My eyes darted from one of the guests to the other with the speed of light as I tried to remember all the names and match them to the faces.

“Hi.” I sent them a small wave and awkwardly shifted my weight, unconsciously moving closer to Chanyeol whose hand didn’t leave my lower back for a second

We moved to take a seat on the couch, next to Baekhyun and the girl Chanyeol had introduced as Yoojin. My friend rested his arm on the usual spot, on top of the couch right behind my back, and I automatically leaned into him to the point our knees were touching. I took a sip of the drink Junmyeon had given us before and immediately felt the familiar sweet frizz of coke on my tongue along with the bitterness of whiskey.

“Don’t act so shocked.” Chanyeol whispered into my ear with a small grin on his face when he noticed my furrowed eyebrows “Jun always provides that the drinks are the highest quality.”

“To be honest, after what you had told me, I should’ve been expecting it.” I murmured quietly so only the two of us could’ve heard it while looking at the liquid inside glass

As time passed by and all of us sat in the living room together laughing and chatting casually, I learned that Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s friends were almost exactly like them - they were absolutely hilarious and treated me like we had known each other before. My previous doubts vanished as quickly as they had previously appeared.

“Y/N, you own a florist, right? Baek told me that.” Yoojin, who was sitting right next to me, turned her head in my direction

“Yeah.” I nodded and put the now empty glass on the table next to Chanyeol’s “It’s the one near Chan and Baekhyun’s uni.”

“You mean ‘The Twisted Tulip’?” she asked me and when I sent her another nod, she broke into smile “I know exactly where it is. Baekhyun got me flowers from you for our third anniversary and they were all so pretty. I kept the for as long as it was possible.”

“I’m glad you liked them that much.” I mirrored her grin

“And how long the two of you have been together?” Jongdae pointed at me and Chanyeol with his chin putting me completely off “Since we’re talking about anniversaries and stuff.”

I felt Chanyeol stiffen in his place and remove his hand that he had previously placed on my thigh, as I shifted nervously next to him. His eyes landed on my figure for a brief second before he turned his head away from me, but I didn’t have enough courage to face him as well.

“Um…” he started and cleared his throat before continuing “It’s not-”

“We’re not dating.” I interrupted him suddenly, surprising everybody in the room including myself

My whole face was burning and I curled my fingers on the fabric of my dress nervously. For a moment I had a feeling like the beating of my heart along with my heavy breathing were the only sounds inside the apartament.

“Really?” Nayoung’s said with a shocked tone “You two seem extremely close. I actually also thought that you’re a thing.”

My body reacted on it’s own as I stood up and took a deep breath. With my shaky hand I grabbed the empty glass I had previously put on the coffee table in front of me “I’ll refill it and be right back.”

All eyes followed me as I stormed into the kitchen, leaving everybody in the living room dumbfounded. I took the half empty bottle of coke and poured the drink inside the glass, but I didn’t even bother taking a sip.

With everything almost boiling inside of me I placed both of my hands on the kitchen counter. I hated how freely Chanyeol had been acting with me on the couch. And I hadn’t even bothered stopping him. No, I had even responded to that and done almost the same thing. Perhaps I just wanted it to become something more than just friendly actions? Maybe I wanted us to stop beating around the bush and clear everything between us up? But what if he hadn’t felt the same need?

“Hey.”

I jumped in my spot, almost spilling the drink in front of me, when I heard Chanyeol’s voice as he entered the kitchen.

“You looked like there was something bothering you when you stormed out like that.” he said and took a few steps closer to me “You okay?”

I wanted to shout at him. Scream that I wasn’t okay at all because I didn’t know if he wanted the same things I did. Because I hated the fact that I wasn’t sure who we were for each other. But I couldn’t do that. Not to Chanyeol. He was just too precious for me.

“Yeah.” my voice was barely a whisper

I sent him a sad smile, perfectly knowing that he could’ve seen in my eyes that I wasn’t exactly fine. But he didn’t dig deeper into the topic. Instead he grabbed my palms and pulled me into his chest, his familiar scent hitting me. My arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, as his circled around my frame, and my hands began rubbing his back soothingly.

A few seconds ago, I had just wanted to scold him and scream at him for all of his actions. But now all I wanted was just to stay forever in his embrace, listen to his steady heartbeat, and forget about my feelings. Maybe we were just meant to stay the way we already were?

“Can I ask you something?” he asked me quietly

I hummed in response, giving him a signal to continue.

“Does the thought of dating me scare you that much?”

I moved away from him just enough to look at him. My brows were furrowed because I wasn’t sure if I had heard his question correctly. But the pink blush dusting his cheeks and his eyes that were piercing into mine were enough evidence for me to know that I couldn’t have misheard it. I didn’t know wether it was my heartbeat that had sped up or his.

“No…” I murmured “Actually, it doesn’t scare me at all.”

“So why did you run away when they asked us about dating?”

I hid my face in his chest once more feeling the embarrassment and anxiety grow inside of me.

“I don’t know… I was just afraid it would turn out weirdly awkward if any of us had answered it.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be ‘weirdly awkward’ next time.” he suggested still holding me close, but I leaned back in his embrace connecting our eyes again “Maybe we could have an answer next time somebody asks us a question like that?”

For a few seconds I didn't respond because I wasn't sure if I was reading well enough between the lines to know what he meant.

“Maybe we could give it a chance? Give us a chance, I mean?” his voice was getting quieter with each word “Only if you want to though.”

“I…” I breathed out softly and smiling at him genuinely “I’d love that.”

Chanyeol stared at me in disbelief for a bit and let out a sigh of relief right after. I felt his chest slowly fall down. We just looking at each other for a moment with grins on both of our faces before breaking out into fits of laughter. Chanyeol placed his forehead on mine, holding me even closer to his frame and stared deeply into my eyes.

“I wanted to say that I really like you, but I guess it’s not the case.” his warm breath fanned my cheeks “Because I actually love you.”

I giggled at his words and said “I actually love you too.”

Catching me off guard, he dipped his head and captured his lips with mine. I quickly collected myself and responded to the kiss with my eyes closed as I let the feelings take control. His kisses were gentle as a feather and I could feel the taste of the drink we had before in them. Chanyeol’s lips moulded into mine perfectly as both of our bodies worked in synch. My hands moved up to his shoulders and I wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingers tangled in his pink locks and I felt him tilt his head slightly to deepen the kiss.

“Okay, it’s the second time I’m walking inside the kitchen when you two are here alone and next time I’ll just scream before I do it.”

Baekhyun’s annoyed tone made us quickly pull away from each other and immediately look at the floor with our cheeks flushed.

“I wanted to check what was taking you so long, but I guess I should’ve known better than to casually walk in.” he crossed his arms over his chest “Hand holding in the kitchen - fine, kissing in the kitchen - I can live with that. Just don’t go any further.”

My face started to burn even deeper shade of red at Baekhyun’s words, but the boy didn’t comment on anything else and just turned away to go back to the living room, leaving me alone with Chanyeol again.

Breaking the moment of silence I let out a short laugh and threw my head back. Chanyeol wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him again, both of us completely forgetting about Baekhyun and his comments.

“You know, I think I figured out what flower is my favourite now.” he said, his thumb rubbing small circles on my waistline

“Yeah?” I raised my eyebrows at him “What is it than?”

“Roses.” he announced “Especially pink.”

I hit his chest playfully.

“Hey, but that’s my favourite flower!”

“And you’re my favourite person in the world so it’s only natural that it’s my favourite flower too.”

His cheesy comment made me giggle in the spot as I leaned in to peck him on the lips once more. And one more time. And another one, letting the third kiss last for a little longer. Chanyeol’s hand cupped my cheek and he caressed the skin of my face with my thumb.

“I can accept that explanation.” I teased him after we pulled away reluctantly

The moment I had met him, I knew that he was somehow different from anybody else I had known throughout my whole life. Because actually Chanyeol and I were like pink roses - full of sweetness, joy and pure happiness. And I knew that we would stay like that for longer than forever.

#exo #exo k #exo scenarios #exo fluff #exo angst #exo imagines #exo series #exo chanyeol #exo park chanyeol #Park Chanyeol #chanyeol #chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol series #chanyeol imagines

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boywivlove · 4 years

Text

| Title | Floral |

| Pairing | Jung Hoseok x Reader

| Word Count | 3k

| Genre | Florist AU, fluff, slight romantic moments

| Summary | Reader has moved back with her parents in her small hometown; after her life hasn't turned out the way she had hoped, and dealing with bouts of depressive thoughts. When she runs into an old friend from school, can he help her through her low point to see the sunlight after the storm?

| Warnings | descriptions of depression and depressive thoughts.

| AN | So this is my second half of the `April showers bring May flowers` collaboration, and I'm really glad to get this out!! This has a mildly gloomy beginning but I promise a fluffy ending!

On a personal note I wrote this fic to kind of get some of my own thoughts out, I think there are alot of us who have gloomy days, and our thoughts are anything less than happy. And I just want to say if anyone reading this also has days like this please know your not alone and you are loved <3 Please enjoy, stay safe, and have a lovely day!

The rain kept coming, pouring down relentlessly as you were stopped at a red light, You didn't mind. If anything it relaxed you. The sound of rain always made it easy for you to fall asleep, driving in the rain drowned out the world to you, making it easier to concentrate on your thoughts, no matter how glum they were. You looked out of your window, the last hours of daylight clinging to the skyline, smudged with the storm clouds that had been gushing rain for the last couple of hours. The weather seemed to match your mood perfectly.

You didn't know exactly when your life started to feel gloomy and dull, but you know it had been a while, almost a year at most. Looking back, you had such high hopes for your life, finish college, finish university, get a good job, move out and live your life. But while you tried your best in education, that's when the thoughts of doubt and paranoia started to bury themselves in your mind.

You were constantly thinking the friends you had grown close to had only tolerated you, and your parents were secretly disappointed in you. It was hard to concentrate on your degree while trying not to have a breakdown in the middle of class. Eventually you had to leave your studies for the sake of your mental health, and you got a new job to keep on top of your rent, and it was good, but after a while, the same nagging thoughts came back, same thoughts, different setting.

You had made your way down the long winding road of the countryside, eventually passing the town's welcome sign. This is where you're going to be staying now, back in the town you grew up in, the town you had imagined all the great things you were going to do with your life. You had decided that you needed a do over, and after a talk with your parents, a decision was made that you would take some time out from everything, and come and stay with them until you get back on your feet.

Leaving your job was hard, but gave you room to exhale and let out some of your anxiousness. But at the same time, you were right back where you started. It's not like you could go back to school, and try and get a degree in a different subject, the only thing you could do was try and work through your issues and try and find a job.

You arrived at your parents house just after 10 pm, and you parked the car in the driveway, leaving the boxes of everything you owned in the garage until your could sort your old room out, your parents had turned it into a pantry, but now it was remade into a room for you, a bed, closet, desk, but the personal touches could come later, right now you wanted to sleep, not even changing out of your clothes you crawled into bed, letting the rain lull you into sleep.

It had been 3 months since you had packed up your life and moved back with your parents, and they had been nothing but supportive, the medication you were given helps only a little with the depressive moments. You had been taking care of yourself and now finally you wanted to start looking for a new job, your parents had said not to worry about rent or paying your way, but you owed it to them, and yourself. You wanted to prove that you could overcome the black dog that hung over you.

It was easier said than done, for a small town, the job opportunities were even shorter. A lot of the businesses here were family owned, and didn't really need any new workers. It had taken you around 30 rejections before you got an offer from a little independent bakery, owned by a lovely old lady named Rose. The pay wasn't great, but hey, it was something, and Rose was lovely, remembering you from when you used to live here as a kid, and gave you a chance.

Now, months later, you and Rose were doing great, you had learnt her tips and tricks for making her baked goods, and found the locals to be a breath of fresh air, the bakery having plenty of regulars to get to know and talk to, a surprisingly nice reprieve from the comings and goings of random faces, a thing that made your old job kind of daunting.

The days you spent in the bakery didn't melt into one, each day had a little something new, a new recipe, new stories from the regulars, and sometimes new faces, and one particular day had a face you had not seen in years.

The sun had finally seemed to come out from behind the clouds, the rain never seemed to stop, but it happened now only with small sprinkles. The hanging baskets of lavender outside the shop dripped onto customers who entered, and the window baskets that held an array of colourful pansies were nicely watered thanks to the rain.

Rose had made you feel so at home in this bakery, and she has so much faith in you, leaving you in charge of the shop for a week or so while she visited her son overseas, and it meant so much to you. Her trust in you had given you something to aspire to.

You were doing your best.

You had just taken another batch of bread rolls out of the oven, and had just set about brewing a pot of coffee when he came in. His hair was speckled in rain droplets as he placed his umbrella in the stand. He approached the counter and peered at the choices. As he was browsing you gave him a once over, he was cute. He was dressed in a white button up shirt and black pants, a long brown corduroy jacket and a deep maroon scarf wrapped around his neck. His face was nice to look at, his hair framed his chiselled jaw nicely, and his shoulders were nice and broad. Now you didn't make a habit of ogling the customers, but you haven't seen this guy in the bakery before, so he was something new to you.

You approached the counter as he was still considering his selection.

“ Hey Rose, you don't have any of those white chocolate almond cookies ready do you?”

He didn't even look up as he was trying to locate the cookie in the rack, it was almost a childlike movement, both his hands placed on the glass and his eyes squinted in concentration. It was oddly familiar to you.

“Hey, not Rose, but we do have some in the oven that are almost ready if you fancy waiting?”

Your voice seemed to surprise him, as his head shot up and his eyes widened slightly

“Oh, I'm so sorry, I never see anyone else behind the counter he he, Is Rose back there?”

He rubbed his nose in a kind of embarrassed movement, looking towards the back room for a second, and then back at you, his eyes roamed your face as he smiled at you.

“Ha ha it's alright, I only started 3 months ago, and sadly no, Rose is visiting her son for a couple of weeks, left me in charge, I`m Y/N”

Your chest puffed slightly, taking pride in the fact that Rose had trust enough in you to leave her business in your care.

“Ahhh Rose must really trust you to leave her pride and joy in your hands,,, wait, Y/N?”

His face was wrinkled slightly, as if trying to remember something that he couldn't quite grasp for a second.

“Yeah? Have we met?”

“ Y/N, Y/L/N from high school ? “

You didn't recognise him at first, it had been so long since you had seen him, but you quickly realised who it was as you remembered the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and his bright toothy smile.

“.... oh my god, Hobi ?”

Now that was something that you didn't see coming. Hobi, the guy in front of you was Hobi, the high school funny guy who made everyone laugh, the guy who danced out everything he said. Honestly, you had expected him to be long gone from this town by now, he was always so gifted in the way he moved, you thought for sure he could have gone into a career in dancing.

Still, it was nice to see him after so long, when you graduated high school you tried to keep in contact but the distance eventually fizzled the friendship out. You had always felt bad for never getting in touch with Hobi, you were good friends by the time high school ended. But here he was, sitting with you after closing time having tea and cookies.

“I cant believe your here Y/N, it's been so long since I've seen you!”

Hobi took a bite of his cookie, smiling as he did, his smile hasn't changed, still as bright as the sun. You sipped your tea as he spoke.

“Have you been here long? I've only just come back from a vacation so I'm sorry I didn't know you were here, I would have been one of the first to see you if I did”

“No only three months or so, and it's OK Hobi, if anything I'm sorry I never stayed in contact with you, things have been a little difficult for me you know?”

“How so if you don't mind me asking?”

So you filled Hobi in on how you ended up back in your hometown, and how you're working through your feelings, he was sympathetic, but he didn't baby you or try to advise you on how to go about things.

“Anyway enough about myself, have you been here all this time? You never moved away or anything?”

Hobi laughed as he set his cup down, running his hand through his hair, he took out a business card out of his wallet. The gold embellished font against the crisp white background stood out beautifully.

` Fragrant Florals by Jung Hoseok. EST 1978 `

“ I went to college here, I still studied dance like I did in highschool, and my grandma gave me a part time job in the flower shop, when she passed, she left it to me. I thought long and hard about what I wanted to do, but the shop has so many memories of my grandma you know?”

You remembered Hobi`s grandmother, she had owned that flower shop for over 30 years, and it was nice to know that Hobi stayed and kept it going. You haven't felt this at ease in a long time, it was as if you finally came home and was able to breathe again, and seeing Hobi again made you feel lighter than air.

“Come with me, I want to show you something”

Hobi had met you as you locked up the bakery for the night, you two had been catching up a lot in the past month, making up for lost time he would say. He would come and visit you on his lunch breaks, grab a coffee and some baked treat and shoot the breeze with you while you had no one to serve. Other times you would stop by his flower shop and bring him a coffee when he was busy. It was nice. You can't believe you let yourself fall out of contact with him.

But as much as you had been enjoying your life lately, you had noticed the negative thoughts starting to creep back into your mind. You would catch yourself thinking of all the ways you would mess everything up, that people will start getting bored of you. That Hobi would start getting bored of you… You wouldn't lie to yourself, You like Hobi. He was always a nice boy growing up, and he was a great guy now. But you knew your feelings for him were starting to become more than friends. And you were so scared about messing things up, that Hobi wouldn't want to be anything more than friends, that stopped you from admitting your real feelings for him.

“Where are we going?”

“Ahh, I'm not saying, you have to close your eyes.”

“Hobi were in the middle of a street, iI cant-”

“Trust me, your gonna love it Y/N”

Hobi flashed you a toothy grin, and covered your eyes with his hands, guiding you toward wherever it was he was taking you. You heard the cars passing by and the occasional person greeted you both. You came to a stop a little while after, as he kept your eyes closed with one hand he rummaged around for his keys, unlocking the door as a bell chimed upon opening it.

“Your shop? Hobi, I've been here a hundred times. Why do I need to keep my eyes closed…”

“Don't open them yet! I just need to get the lights…”

Letting out an airy laugh you kept your eyes closed, the shop had a variety of different smells, but overall smelt earthy, just like Hobi. You heard the click of a light switch, and you felt his presence in front of you. You felt his hands on your arms as he gently guided you to where he wanted you to be. He was so close to you.

Hobi smelled so good. His scent was a mix of fruity, woody hints, but also had hints of spices and earth, all his time tending to his plants and bouquets rubbing off on him in the best way.

“Ok, annnnd, open”

You opened your eyes, letting them get used to the light, and what you saw made you take a surprised breath.

He had taken you into the back of the shop, to his own little greenhouse, and turned it into your own little restaurant. In the centre of the greenhouse, surrounded by his many growing flora, was a small table set nicely with food cooling in dishes. Fairy lights hung above the table, shimmering like stars. Magical. You turned to Hobi with a small smile, his own smile a most bashful as he waited for your response.

“Wow, You did all this?”

“Well, this is a small town, not many places to go you know, I wanted to take us somewhere new, so I thought, why now make somewhere new”

He looked at you with such a fondness, you felt your heart flutter slightly.

“But, I also wanted to take you somewhere that's not crowded, I know you've been feeling down again lately, I can tell. You fiddle with your hands when you start over thinking, I wanted, I wanted to make something special for you.”

You felt yourself well up slightly, his gesture had really touched your heart. He was too good for this world, too good for you. You couldn't contain your tears as they fell down your cheeks. You hugged Hobi as he let you cry onto his shoulder. His arm wrapped around you as he brought his other hand to rest in your hair. It was like something straight out of a romance movie. Made even more so by the tapping of rain that started against the windows.

“Hobi, you're amazing, you know?”

“Ah come on, I just thought you would like a surprise.”

“No, I mean it. You always know just what to do, your kind and caring, and you never make me feel bad about how I feel”

You raised your head to look at him, his eyes held so much care in them, his lips parted slightly, as if contemplating what to say, and looking into your eyes, he must have decided. His face came a little closer to yours, and in the softest of moments, he placed a light kiss to your forehead before resting his chin on top of your head. It was like thunder to you, sending a shiver down your spine. You breathed in his scent as your face nuzzled his neck slightly.

“I'm glad you like it Y/N, I don't want you to feel the way you do about yourself, I know it's hard for you. But I just wish you could see yourself how I see you. You're perfect to me, you always have been.”

“Since when are you this cheesy?”

“Hey cheesy is my forte, and if it makes you happy I'll keep being cheesy”

You shared a laugh, breaking apart from him ever so slightly to look at him again, his hand in your hair made its way to your cheek, his thumb wiping the remaining tears that streaked down your face.

Your mind, ever the interrupter, was screaming at you that this wouldn't last, that this is all a dream. But the thoughts were suddenly silent as Hobi placed his lips on yours, his kiss was soft and delicate, not wanting to overstep a boundary that he might have misread.

You had never felt more at ease. With a deep inhale, it was as if the weight of everything you felt had lifted from your heart, and it finally started to beat again.

You had first thought coming back to your childhood town was a huge step back for your life, but there, in a small flower shop. It was the start of something new, something that you would look back on when you feel yourself slipping into your dark thoughts as a moment that could ground you.

And Hobi, who would tell you everyday that you were worth your weight in gold to him.

#bangtanscenerycollab #bangtanscenery #ficswithluv #hyunglinenetwork #btsbookclub #armysource #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts fanfic #jung hoseok #hoseok #jung hoseok imagine #jung hoseok au #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #flower shop au

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camillemontespan · 4 years

Text

everything’s coming up roses [AU one shot. drake walker x camille montespan]

Warnings: NONE! NONE AT ALL! THIS IS SHEER FLUFFY GOODNESS!

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @ibldw-main @loveellamae @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @burnsoslow @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @notoriouscs @rainbowsinthestorm @pedudley @gardeningourmet

**********************************

Drake ambled through the city streets looking for the right kind of flower shop. He wasn’t good at flowers; he didn’t know the best kinds or which ones survived better, but his sister had been on at him to do something nice for their mother. Bianca was feeling low at the moment and Savannah had tried everything to cheer her up but to no avail.

‘Please do something,’ she had begged Drake on the phone the night before. ‘I know you don’t live near us anymore but maybe send her a card or flowers. Anything.’

Drake settled on sending his mom flowers. Only now was he regretting this idea. He had no clue what to look for.

He found himself in the West Village on a tree lined street filled with independent bookshops and bakeries. His heart jumped; this looked promising. He took out his phone, went to maps and typed in ‘flower shop’, praying there would be one nearby. There had to be. This looked like an area with a flower shop.

One result came up and it was round the corner. Fantastic. Feeling like a good son, Drake walked quickly down the street towards the flower shop called Lily & Luna.

************************************

‘Hana, can you water the roses round the back please?’ Camille asked as she checked off her to-do list.

‘Sure thing, lovely!’ Hana said happily. She was always enthusiastic which made her a joy to work with. She rushed outside with the watering can.

‘And Max, we’re expecting an order of peonies today at 2pm, can you sign for it?’ Camille continued, looking up at the lanky man who was standing at the top of a ladder. The ladder was shaking precariously. Maxwell was trying to water the flower baskets that hung from the ceiling without falling to his tragic death.

‘Yup, will do boss!’ he called out. Camille abandoned her list to quickly move to the ladder so she could hold it in place for Maxwell. She couldn’t risk having Maxwell end up in A&E again.

The door opened and the tinkling sound of the bell trilled, announcing a customer. Keeping her hands on the ladder, Camille leaned around Maxwell’s legs to see who had just entered.

‘Be with you in a moment!’ she said.

The customer, who was just finishing scuffing his shoes on the doormat, turned around to look at her. Camille swallowed. The customer was the most handsomely rugged man she had ever seen in her life.

His dark hair was tousled, giving the impression that he had just rolled out of bed. He was as tall as the door and broad chested, with his denim shirt emphasising the vast expanse of chest and muscles that corded through his arms. He had kind eyes and that was what made Camille’s heart begin to beat just a little faster.

He blinked, his eyes roaming her face. ‘Hey there,’ he croaked.

****************************

It turned out that florists were beautiful. That was what Drake realised as soon as he saw her. She was half hidden by her colleague’s legs - her colleague looked like he was going to fall off the ladder at any moment - but her face had been in full view and Drake decided that florists were beautiful, just like the flowers they sold.

She tentatively left her colleague on the ladder and made her way across to Drake. ‘How can I help you today?’ she asked.

Drake’s throat was really dry. Really, really dry.

‘Uhhh… I need, uh, flowers,’ he said lamely. He cleared his throat. ‘Please.’

She smiled warmly. Drake felt his legs practically buckle. His eyes quickly studied her; she had a name tag that told him that her name was Camille. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a yellow silk scarf around her head. Her eyes were brown with gold flecks, like an owl; gorgeous eyes. She was wearing a denim dress and white espadrilles. Drake liked the denim dress because it matched his denim shirt.

‘Do you know what kind you’d like?’ she asked.

‘No idea,’ Drake admitted, smiling ruefully. ‘Can you help?’

Camille grinned and gestured for him to follow her around the shop. It was a small place with wooden walls painted duck egg blue. Flower baskets hung from the ceiling and on every surface stood pitchers of flowers. Roses, daisies, peonies, lilies, sunflowers. The space was a kaleidoscope of foliage. Above the counter hung a driftwood slab that had ‘Lily & Luna’ painted in curly handwriting.

‘Who are the flowers for?’ Camille asked.

‘My mom,’ Drake said, blushing. Camille grinned.

‘That’s really sweet,’ she said. ‘Is it her birthday?’

‘Nah, she’s just been feeling blue so I wanna do something for her,’ Drake told her. ‘Flowers might cheer her up, you know? She lives in Texas so she’s pretty far away.’

Camille’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked around at the vast array of flowers on display. Her eyes settled on a pitcher of sunflowers.

‘I always feel that sunflowers are the best flower to cheer someone up,’ she said softly. ‘They’re a happy colour and the way they are open to the world.. They are uplifting.’

Drake nodded. ‘Okay, can I send her sunflowers?’

Camille blinked. ‘You don’t want to look at other options?’

Drake shuffled on his feet and placed his hands awkwardly in his jean pockets. ‘Sunflowers were your gut instinct,’ he said. ‘And I trust your expert opinion.’

Camille looked down at the floor, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. Drake smiled now, watching her as she absentmindedly reached out to stroke a sunflower petal. Camille then looked up to smile at him.

‘Sunflowers it is,’ she said. ‘Now, do you want to write a card?’

‘Sure,’ Drake replied. He followed Camille to the counter where she brought out little cards and a pen. He looked down at the card and tried to think of something to write. Eventually, he settled on ‘Keep smelling the flowers. Drake x’

He handed Camille the notecard; their fingers brushed. The blush appeared on her cheeks again, much to Drake’s amusement, and he watched as she took out some brown paper and a yellow bow.

‘Shall we go for five?’ she asked.

‘Sounds good,’ Drake said. Camille selected five sunflowers and placed them together. She wrapped the brown paper around them.

‘Ooh, do you want to add some greenery?’ she suggested. ‘It will give the bouquet more body and fill out any spaces.’

Drake agreed to greenery. He also agreed to lavender stems because at this point, he was willing to say yes to everything Camille suggested. Soon, the arrangement was prepared and looking pretty.

‘Where are these being sent?’ Camille asked.

‘Walker Ranch, Applewood, Texas,’ Drake recited.

‘Great,’ Camille said. ‘We’ll get these delivered to your mom, they should arrive within 2-3 working days. If you can give me your contact number in case there are any issues, that would be great. How do you want to pay?’

It turned out buying flower arrangements was really expensive. As Drake paid an obscene amount of money while trying his best not to cry, he wished he had just stuck to sending his mom a card. But as Camille handed him her business card and gave him a bright smile, Drake knew he would spend all of the money in the world just so he could see her again.

**********************************

When Drake left the shop, Maxwell let out a whistle. His eyes were wide like saucers as he looked down from the ladder at Camille.

‘He was fricking hot!’ he squealed. ‘Oh my God, he was so into you! Please tell me you’re gonna call him!’

Camille rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a customer who left his number for our records,’ she said seriously. ‘Not for me to pick him up!’

‘But he was gorgeous!’ Maxwell cried, climbing down from the ladder. ‘If you don’t, I will! I’ll take him out to dinner for steak! He looks like a guy who likes steak! And beer!’

‘Max, you don’t like beer,’ Camille said, smiling despite herself.

‘I’d like beer for him,’ Maxwell replied wistfully. He now had a faraway look on his face; Camille knew he was thinking about Drake’s muscles.

‘Back to work,’ she said briskly.

‘Uh, funsucker,’ Maxwell sighed. ‘I’ll go on a coffee run for us.’

‘You’re only going on a coffee run so you can catch up with him!’ Camille called out but Maxwell didn’t hear her as he bolted out of the shop.

*****************************

‘Baby, my flowers are gorgeous!’ Bianca told Drake on the phone a few days later. ‘Stunning! They’ve made me smile so much. How sweet are you?’

‘It was nothing, mom..’ Drake mumbled, blushing at the praise.

‘Shhh, of course it is!’ Bianca said. ‘They’re taking pride of place on the dining table. Thank you, baby.’

Drake smiled. He liked making his mother happy. He should do it more often.

A thought formed in his mind. Maybe he could? He could send his mother flowers once a week! Sure, it would be expensive but when it made her happy, who cared? And he could go back to Lily & Luna again. He could see Camille again. She could become his official florist! Maybe his official girlfriend - no. No. Too far.

******************************

The following week, Drake took three subway rides and walked fifteen minutes to get to the flower shop. Yes. It was very much out of his way, especially since after a more extensive Google search back home, it turned out that there were four flower shops in Drake’s neighbourhood. But he didn’t want to go to those.

He entered the shop and was greeted by a gasp and the sound of a jug dropping to the floor. Drake moved further inside to find Camille’s colleague on his knees, hastily drying the wet floor. He was bright red.

‘Sorry, sorry, be with you in a second!’ he shrieked.

Drake shrugged and began to peruse the flowers. He was heavily aware of eyes on him; the florist on the floor was watching him.

‘Oh, hi Drake!’

Camille entered from the back room and joined Drake in front of a vase of peonies. ‘Didn’t expect to see you again. Is everything okay?’ she asked. ‘Your mom liked her flowers, right?’

‘Oh, she loved them!’ Drake reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not here to complain. I’m here to buy her some more flowers.’

The smile that spread on Camille’s face was enough to warm Drake’s heart. She clapped her hands excitedly. ‘Ooh amazing!’ she cried. ‘Okay, so sunflowers again?’

‘Actually, I was thinking something else,’ Drake said. ‘These are pretty, what are they?’

‘They’re peonies,’ Camille told him. ‘They’re gorgeous.’

‘I’d like to send my mom those,’ Drake told her. ‘With greenery added, of course.’ He said this with a wry smile.

Camille grinned and picked up five stems of peonies and some greenery. Drake followed her to the counter where she handed him a notecard for him to write a message. Drake noticed that her colleague was fussing near him, examining a vase of roses while inching closer to Drake.

‘She’s lucky to have a son who cares so much,’ Camille said softly. ‘I think it’s really sweet what you’re doing.’

Drake shrugged. ‘Just doing my duty, Camille.’

Camille’s cheeks turned pink when he said her name. Drake smirked and handed over his credit card to pay for the flowers to be delivered. ‘I’ll be back next week,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to turn this into a thing.’

Camille nodded. ‘See you next week then, Drake.’

Drake smiled, keeping his eyes on hers for a long moment before he gave her colleague a nod. He left the store feeling lighter.

‘DID YOU SEE HIS SMIRK?! GOOD LORD!’ Maxwell suddenly shouted, deafening Camille’s ear drums.

*********************************

And so this continued for the next four weeks. Every week, Drake visited the flower shop and every week he bought flowers for his mother. He would chat to Camille while he was there, listening as she told him about her favourite flowers, enjoying the excitement in her voice. For fifteen minutes every week, they would get lost in talking, forgetting that they were meant to be professional. Drake loved listening to her. He loved watching her face light up and her hands move quickly as she spoke. She would skip from one flower to the next, telling him weird and wonderful facts about them. Drake could listen to her all day.

‘Sorry, I’m geeking out!’ she said to him. ‘I just love flowers.’

‘I think it’s cute,’ Drake told her. ‘I love how passionate you are.’

Camille heard Maxwell swoon from the back corner where he was watering shrubs. She smiled at Drake; they were standing close together, examining a vase filled with roses.

‘Roses are for couples, aren’t they?’ Drake asked her.

She frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say that… sure, traditionally, they are. But I’m sure your mom would love them.’

‘Have you ever been given roses?’ Drake suddenly asked. As soon as he asked her the question, he regretted it. Why had he asked her something personal?

Camille bit her lip. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been sent roses.’

She sounded quite sad about that. Drake wished he hadn’t said anything. He was about to respond when Camille clapped her hands and gestured for him to follow her to the other side of the shop. ‘Look at these lilies,’ she said quickly. ‘What do you think of these?’

The change in subject was abrupt. Drake went along with it but as he chose to send his mother lilies, his mind was still on the idea that Camille had never received roses before.

******************************

The next week, Drake went by the flower shop and looked in the window to see if Camille wasn’t there. He couldn’t see her, which was good for him, as he had a plan. He entered the shop to find her male colleague and a female colleague talking at the counter in hushed tones.

‘Oh, it’s you!’ the guy called. ‘I’ll get Camille, she’s just on her lunch break-’

‘Actually, I want to talk to you,’ Drake said quickly. He looked at the name tag on Camille’s colleague’s chest.

‘Maxwell,’ he said. ‘I’d like your help.’

Maxwell turned pink. His colleague was studying Drake curiously.

‘Camille hasn’t received roses before,’ Drake began. ‘Can I buy her some?’

Maxwell blinked. ‘Uhh, sure?’

‘You like Camille?’ the girl beside him asked. Her name tag said her name was Hana. She was smiling.

‘I, uh, do, yeah,’ Drake said awkwardly. ‘She’s been so nice to me and it broke my heart a little when she told me she had never gotten roses.’

‘Her ex boyfriends sucked, that’s why,’ Maxwell told him dryly. Hana elbowed him in the ribs.

‘Okay, what roses do you want to give her?’ she asked.

‘Beautiful ones,’ Drake said. ‘The best ones in the shop.’

Hana and Maxwell guided him to the roses in the corner of the room. White, pink, orange, red. Drake didn’t realise roses came in different colours. Who knew?!

‘So, which ones do you like?’ Hana asked him simply.

‘The red ones,’ Drake said, pointing to a full bouquet. ‘Red is the best colour, right?’

‘Oh my God, you’re such a marshmallow..’ Maxwell whispered. Drake chuckled, embarrassed, but he had to agree. He was a secret marshmallow. Hana picked out the red roses and took them to the counter.

‘Want to write a card?’ she asked.

Drake nodded and took the card she handed him. His heart was hammering in his chest and his throat was constricting; Camille made him feel things. She made him feel nervous. But in a good way.

He deliberated over what to write then settled on something simple.

For the girl who deserves a rose garden. Drake x

Maxwell took the card from him and quickly scanned the words; his eyes widened. Drake held out his credit card and paid for Camille’s flowers.

‘Make sure she gets them as soon as she’s off her lunch,’ Drake said. ‘I hope she likes them.’

********************************

‘OH MY GODDD!’ Maxwell and Hana screamed as soon as Drake left. They jumped up and down, pulling each other in for hugs. The noise disturbed Camille who had been enjoying peace and quiet outside.

‘Guys, shhhh!’ she scolded.

They whipped around to face her, their eyes wide with excitement. Camille stared at them. ‘What?’

Maxwell cleared his throat and pointed to a bouquet of red roses on the counter.

Camille sighed and reached out to pick up the roses. She was aware of Maxwell and Hana’s eyes fixed on her. She opened the notecard and her heart flipped.

‘He.. he bought me roses?’ she murmured.

‘YES!’ Maxwell shrieked. ‘He was just here! He came in, said he wanted to buy you the most beautiful ones, the best ones in the shop! Camille, please, marry him! MARRY HIM!’

Camille read the note once more, unable to stop the happy smile from spreading on her lips. She felt.. Peace. Joy. Hope.

She had loved seeing Drake every week. He put up with her constant geekiness about flowers; he listened to her; he made her laugh; he talked about his mother; he talked about Texas. He was funny and kind and interesting. He was thoughtful. He had bought her roses.

Camille went through the customer records to find Drake’s number. Leaving Maxwell and Hana, she stepped out of the front of the shop and dialled his number.

‘Hello?’

‘Thank you for the roses,’ she said softly. ‘They’re beautiful.’

He chuckled down the line. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never been given roses.’

‘Well, now I have,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’

There was a silence until Drake broke it. ‘Can I take you out to dinner tonight?’ he asked, his voice nervous.

Camille felt her heart skip and leap and dance.

‘I’d love that,’ she said.

‘What time do you finish work?’

‘6pm,’ she said.

She could feel Drake smiling down the phone. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said, unable to stop herself from smiling.

‘Maybe I’ll bring you some more roses,’ he teased. Camille let out a throaty laugh and shook her head.

‘One bouquet is enough!’

Drake chuckled. ‘No it’s not,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna give you a whole rose garden, remember?’

Camille blushed as red as her roses.

#drake walker #trr fanfic

36 notes · View notes

chaneltae · 5 years

Text

Mångata pt.1 | kth

Pairing: Taehyung x reader Genre: College!AU, fluff Warnings: none Words: 2,8k Part: 1

↳ When faced with his final art project for college Taehyung considers himself royally fucked if it weren’t for class mate Yoongi to come up with a rescuing idea. Struggling herself, Y/N can’t help but accept to work together with the just introduced strawberry enthusiast. And it’s just for this one assignment anyway, what could possibly go wrong? ⋆ aka your local broke college students + strangers to lovers trope

“Okay, that’s it. I quit.” Taehyung groans into his hands, covering his face. All this time he knew exactly how important this moment is going to be, but he never expected to be so utterly confused and helpless once he was confronted with it. The final project. The last piece of art to determine his grade, his degree. If he even gets one. At this point right now, he feels like rather giving up than spending another six months trying to figure out a final… something to present at the grand exhibition. Ten minutes ago, he was motivated, ready to tackle this last mission, excited to pack out whatever medium required and start working on his most important piece so far. But that already seems to have been an eternity ago, his mind long gone into the depths of a feeling equivalent to watching paint dry. Glancing around the lecture hall it seems he isn’t the only one questioning the choice of his major at this given moment. As if anyone had a realistic chance of actually escaping this. The topic couldn’t have been worse. Human. What��s that supposed to mean?

“Human? What’s that supposed to mean?” Next to him a disheveled mop of hair lets out a snorting giggle. A weird sound Taehyung notes, as if it’s supposed to sound unbothered but it sounds more like anxiety laughing. “Whatever it is, our professor definitely is not.” The raspy voice states, clearly not having it. “She really wants us to suffer, huh? Even forcing us to work together with a person… a human.” another undefined sound of displeasure leaving his lips. “I would say it couldn’t get worse, but we have complete freedom regarding nearly everything and there is honestly nothing more constricting than freedom in this situation.” A sharp voice cuts them off of any further conversation. Faced to the blackboard the professor continues her monolog, scribbling down the time schedule everyone is expected to follow suit. The last number mentally already saved as funeral date in Taehyung’s head. “I repeat once again, the overall topic of your project is ‘Human’. Interpret that however you want, you have no restrictions in terms of media, but keep in mind the size of our gallery is limited, and so is your designated space in it.” A few grunts erupt around the boys’ seats, everyone knowing very well that calling the gallery limited is a huge understatement. As if anyone of them would come around with a giant truck loaded with massive pieces for the exhibition when they are still unable to even have the grasp of an idea. Even the sculptors wouldn’t. “Regarding the person we are supposed to work with. Any restrictions?” Taehyung hears his seat neighbor ask, eyes fixed to the front of the room. An evil smirk gracing his professor’s lips, he can almost feel everyone’s heart in the room dropping in to their pants. “Good question Mr. Min. Yes, there are restrictions. You are, of course, not allowed to work with anyone in your class. Your final project is supposed to reflect your own work and inspirations and not end up being a group project. You’re not particularly searching for a partner, I want you to take a person and add them as a human aspect to your work. Again, interpret that as you wish.” The silent grimaces of confusion paint the rows of students as the professor leaves with the promise of an email with more detailed information and a threatful reminder of the set schedule. With a sigh of defeat Taehyung turns his body towards the smaller man next to him “Hyung, what now?” Finally looking up, the other stares right into his eyes, dead serious “We’re fucked.”

The door opens, the annoying bells chiming at the disturbance. Your cue to put on a smile and look like selling beverages to sleep deprived students at this ungodly hour is the one thing to bring you joy and mental strength. Despite the fact that you are anything but joyful at this given moment. You were just about to start your generic greeting when you spot ashy grey hair sticking out of a blue beanie, catlike eyes gazing through them in a warm hello. “Oh Yoongs, you’re early! How was class? Did I predict your topic right?” you wiggle your eyebrows in expectation, hands already working on the coffee machine as you grab his favorite mug. It was a production mistake, the city skyline somehow printed on the ceramic twice, leaving it unable to sell, so you kept it as your own. Even though it ended up being Yoongi’s favorite once he started to visit you between his classes and you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him that when he looked like a proud puppy holding it in his hands. You get an annoyed scuff as an answer as he peels himself out of his scarf and jacket “I wish. That would have been better.” Surprised you can’t hold back a slight chuckle, answering once the machine in front of you stopped loudly grinding coffee beans. “That would have been better? What could possibly be a topic worse than ‘Developing a prototype to translate text and speech to sign language with bilingual subtitles: a framework’?” “Developing a what?” a third voice suddenly stutters half laughing, obviously taken aback by your statement. Bewildered you turn around to take in the sight of another man standing in the café, one corner of his mouth rising slightly at your expression. Having him next to Yoongi is nearly amusing, while the older is dressed in ripped skinny jeans and his favorite Kendrick hoodie, muffled up in huge scarfs and beanies during the biting winter air (“no I’m not going to wear ‘unripped’ jeans, I’m not a monster”), the taller looks quite the opposite. A dark red flower shirt decorates his broad chest, tucked into wide-legged, black pants which hug his unnecessarily long legs, unfair, in a way that make it look like he is too expensive for clothes. His fluffy black hair frames an unreadable face on one side, while the other half is tucked behind his ear, barely long enough to stay there in place. “Oh Y/N, this is Taehyung. We’re both in arts class with Professor Power Point but he’s one of those motivated kiddos who chose a double major, consider yourself warned.” Yoongi mindlessly gestures his hand through the air, as if that would give the introduction more substance. “Taehyung, this is Y/N. The only reason I actually attend morning classes.” With that he plops down on the armchair, apparently done with his excellent characterization. Confused, Taehyung’s eyes skim from the older to you behind the counter, waiting for further annotation. “What he’s trying to say is that I’m his flat mate and have to drag him out of bed and provide him with free coffee when I’m on shift.” You laugh at his confused façade falling with realization as you turn your attention back to the roaring machine. “Well then double major Taehyung, who I have been warned of, what drink can I get you? Full offense, you don’t look like someone who would drink the same hell-brew like Yoongs does.” The last bit of awkwardness falling off of him Taehyung steps to the counter, taking a quick look at the menu only to end up pouting “Do you have anything with strawberries?” Cute.

A few minutes and tired customers later you join the two boys gathered around the tiny table in the rather hidden corner of the shop, Yoongi’s favorite spot to no one’s surprise. With a grin you place the pastel pink drink in front of a curious Taehyung “Here is your ‘Very Berry Gurt’, hope you like it.” Cautiously he wraps his lips around the straw, obviously suspicious, as you let yourself slouch down on a nearby chair “It used to be the favorite drink of our Yoongurt here.” “Yah, don’t call me that!” the small male retorts at your stupid nickname, swatting his hand in your direction with the weak attempt of hitting you. Bursting out in giggles you can’t stop yourself but continue “He was berry passionate about it, you know.” Yoongi groans out in annoyance, his head falling into his palms, wishing he could morph with the chair as a deep, breathy laughter fills the room. Pleased you take in the sight of Taehyung’s boxy grin as he tries his best not to choke on said drink. “Since when did you plan to set up this joke?” the grey-haired asks while gently hitting the youngers back, judging look on his face. Shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly you sip at your own drink “The second I saw the name.” “How come I never met you before Y/N? Even though I have the feeling I saw you around somewhere.” Taehyung asks once he is able to breath properly again, carefully placing his drink back on the table. Keeping a safe distance in regards of his own health. “My classes are practically on the other end of campus if you are at the arts building, so I’m sure we never ran in to each other there.” You try to think of a possible scenario but nothing comes to mind, knowing for sure Yoongi most definitely didn’t invite him over to your shared flat. That you would remember. Tilting his head to the side his somewhat puppy-like but also fascinatingly intense eyes scan your face, searching for an answer in your contours. Yoongi shifts in his armchair, pulling his knees up to wrap his arms around them, looking more huggable than anything else. “Maybe you recognize her from the photos.” He states, leaving Taehyung even more confused than before. “You remember my last years’ final project? Part of it is still hanging in the gallery if I’m not mistaken.” Slowly nodding the younger seems to vaguely remember what the older is referencing, his mind wrapping around the information. “There were a few pictures with Y/N in them.” “Oh yeah right, I helped you with that project!” you chirm in, remembering the small favor to save him from an existential photographer crisis. Taehyung’s eyes widen, finally envisioning the pieces in his head. You didn’t really think much of being in the background of a few photos if it prevents your best friend from going insane over a potential failed class. But now that you are faced with the situation of someone actually paying enough attention to take in your features, let alone being able to somewhat remember you, leaves a weird taste behind. You can’t help but wonder if there are more people who looked at those pictures, looked at your face, able to recognize it in a crowd. A familiar face but nothing behind it. A familiar stranger. The shrill notification sound of different phones interrupts the moment, the two males starting to frantically fish around in their pockets as if their life depends on it. “Oh god, it’s Professor Power Point with her details mail.” Yoongi states once he found the device before scanning through the text on his screen. Taehyung falls just as silent with a concentrated expression on his face, brows slightly furrowed and his tongue quickly poking out to wet his lips. Somehow it reminds you of Yoshi’s little ‘mlem’ sound. Adorable. Not long after starting to read a desperate rampart of ‘no’s, slowly increasing in volume, leaves Yoongis lips as he continues scrolling. You just raise your brow in question, waiting for him to elucidate his distress. However, all he does is start to whine, gripping his phone as if he would try to strangle it, wishing for it to be something else “What did I ever do to deserve this?”. “In all probability, something terrible.” He shots you a disappointed, judging look at your remark, not even worthy of an eyeroll. “You’re not helping Y/N.” Shifting in your chair you plant yourself in a position that says ‘you can tell me everything’ as Taehyung chimes in, apparently done with reading “What is it, hyung?”. With a sigh the older tugs his phone into the armchair gap and turns to you “Okay, let me summarize quickly so you can understand, Y/N. Our project theme is ‘human’. Yes, I know, stupid, please don’t say anything. Thank you.” You nod slowly, no intention of adding anything. “And our delightful professor had the audacity to force us to work with a partner. A human, hah. But we are not allowed to work with people from our class, even if they have a different major. Which means I can’t work with Taehyung here since he’s in fine arts and photography. So, my brilliant thought was to ask you again, since y’know, you saved my ass with the last project and of all people you should know the best what to do with the topic ‘human’.” At that Taehyung sends you a questioning look but doesn’t dare to interrupt the older as you keep nodding. “However, we are also not allowed to work with people we paired up with before. Aka, I can’t ask you either. Aka, I’m lost.” That said Yoongi looks at both of you with a face that resembles the smiling upside-down emoji horrifyingly accurate. For a few seconds no one is quite sure what to say, staring into their beverages as if the liquid would give them the needed advice. Helpless you turn to the tall male sitting next to you “Do you have any plans on how to find a partner yourself, Taehyung?” A pained smile crosses his features as he ruffles through the hair at the back of his head, fluffy strains floating through his ring accessorized fingers. “I’m was also going to ask my flat mates, but I’m not sure what they’ll say. Especially since I have no concept or idea whatsoever… they might be too busy with their own stuff.” He trails off, obviously unsure about his own words, a wave of anxiousness hitting at the realization this might be harder than initially anticipated. Given the lack of ideas everyone returns to stare at the table in front of them. The drinks still far from illuminating. “Hm, it makes sense to work with someone from my classes though, even if it’s not me. But on the other hand, it also might be a little too literal to pair up with a social major, don’t you think?” you attempt to reason, trying to think of a person who would be willing to accept such a challenge when everyone is busy themselves surviving their own classes. Eyes hovering over Yoongi’s hoodie you suddenly get an idea “I could ask Namjoon from Legal! You know each other, right?” “Legal?” Taehyung asks, even if not the person involved, he can’t hold back his curiosity. “Legal and ethic issues in social work.” You mechanically respond before turning back to Yoongi “He has more business focused classes, but still shares the social ones with me. It’s worth a try.” Relieved you note that his face seems at least a little less anxious at the mention of his former music school acquaintance. Carefully he takes a sip of his hell brew coffee, still hesitant but eventually agreeing to your idea. Interrupted by the aggressive bells announcing a new customer you get up to move back to work with the promise to ask Namjoon in behalf of Yoongi, hopefully saving him once again.

“Jimin, please! I’ll even do your laundry for the next month.” Taehyung almost begs into the phone he’s holding on to for dear life. After he left the café with Yoongi, parting their ways, he couldn’t help but dial his best friend’s number in an instant. The fear of having to search for someone who isn’t one of his two flat mates creeping up his spine, now that realization finally hit. The problem of the concept itself long forgotten, all he can think of is persuading the male on the other end of the line to help him out. However, the soft voice coming through the speakers only fuels Taehyung’s desperation “I’m so sorry Tae, but I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. You know how busy Hobi hyung and I are with the studio and we don’t want to agree on helping you, when we might end up having to bail out.” He can hear the sincerity in the others voice, knowing very well they only mean good and want the best for him. But still – “Well, shit.”

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fluff #taehyung x reader #bts series #kim taehyung #mangata #chanel;series #[this is my first fic guys please talk to me; shoot me an ask; every kind of feedback is needed ♥]#[is this worth continuing? ;;]

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katymacsupernatural · 6 years

Text

A Royal Crush Part 6

Jensen Ackles x Reader AU

1200 Words

Story Summary: Jensen and Y/N meet at a masquerade ball. Immediately sparks fly, but Jensen isn’t revealing the truth about him. The truth that he comes from royalty. What happens when Y/N finds out?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Warnings: None

“Addisyn, you’ll never believe what’s happening!” You exclaimed as you stepped foot into your apartment. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what to pack. Wondering if you could really afford to leave your business for a week to go gallivanting across the world with Jensen.

“What?” Your friend asked, sounds of a party going on behind her.

“Do you remember telling me to talk to Jensen?” You asked her as you pulled down your suitcase. It was covered in a layer of dust, reminding you of how much work had taken over your life lately.

“Of course I do! I was actually going to call you about that, but you beat me to it,” she said before yelling at someone on her end of the line. “Are you okay? What’s going on between the two of you?”

“I was so nervous, but Addy we talked, and…,” you started explaining as you stared into your closest, wondering what you would wear when meeting a King and Queen.

“I’m coming home!” Addisyn told you. “We’ll have wine, and you can tell me all about it. Or shall I bring ice cream?”

“Wine is fine,” you said just before she hung up. Tossing your phone onto your bed, you began pulling your normal work clothes to the side, looking towards the back where your seldom worn sundresses hung. They were light way and comfortable, and would look nice when being around Royalty. Laying them on the bed, you began thinking of other items, including shoes when you heard the door to the apartment slam open.

“Y/N, where are you?” Addisyn called out, heading immediately towards your room. “I’m here for you sweetie.”

“In here Addy,” you called out just as she stepped into your room. Dressed in a slim ruby red dress that skimmed her thighs, she looked like she had just come off of the red carpet. Raising a manicured eyebrow towards your suitcase, she plopped down onto the little armchair in the corner of your room.

“I came home expecting to see you lounging on the couch, your eyes red as you tried not to cry. Not to you packing your sundresses. Which you never wear.”

“Let’s pour some wine and I’ll tell you all about it,” you suggested.

“As long as you don’t leave anything out,” she insisted. “But I’m getting out of this dress.”

Five minutes later you were sitting on the couch across from your friend, telling her everything. About your date with Jensen, the flowers. Finding out about his true identity, and your meeting with him earlier that night.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here,” she apologized, pouring another glass of wine. “It’s just been so hectic at the theater with my new show. But you should have called me!”

“I knew you would be busy, and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So now you’re planning on traveling with him? To meet his parents? Are you sure that’s smart?”

Tugging your lower lip between your teeth, the winemaking your head heavy, you thought hard about the decision you had already made. “I don’t know if it’s smart. But I do know that I really like him.”

“I can see that,” she spoke softly, smiling at me. “I haven’t seen you this way since…,”

“I don’t think I even felt this way with Trevor,” you admitted. Trevor had been your college sweetheart. At one point you had even thought the two of you would...but it hadn’t happened, and the two of you had gone your separate ways.

“Well, let’s make sure you pack the right items. And you can borrow whatever you need,” Addisyn offered. “We don’t want you looking like a pauper when you meet his parents.”

“Addisyn I love you, but I’m not sure your clothes are exactly my style.”

“We’ll figure something out. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Then no shopping trip,” she mumbled, her mouth pressed together as she thought. “I have just the items!”

In the end your sundresses were packed, along with some casual clothes as well. Your favorite flats along with her heels and jewelry were added. Getting ready to zip your suitcase closed, Addisyn came back. “You might need this.”

In her hands was your beautiful black and blue dress that you had worn to the ball. “Who knows what will go on while you’re over there, and it’s good to be prepared. I have my special bag for it.”

“Thank you Addy,” you took the dress, just as your phone buzzed. Smiling as Jensen’s name flashed on your screen. “Oh, he has the plane tickets booked! We leave tomorrow at eight in the morning. Addy, what am I doing? I’m flying across the world with a man I hardly know!”

“It will be fine. I’ve been telling you to take a risk forever. You’ve been so wrapped in your coffee shop forever. And that’s not a bad thing, but you need to put yourself out there too. Sure, you don’t know Jensen that well, and it’s a big trip. But you can always leave if things turn south. But what if they don’t? What if you find out that this Jensen is the man of your dreams?”

“I think that’s what I’m scared of,” you admitted. “I’ve been fine being on my own for so long that I’m scared that I’ll fall to hard for him.”

“I think you’re already falling hard. Otherwise you never would have given him another chance. So go. Have fun and keep in touch.”

Throwing your arms around your friend, you hugged her tightly, amazed at what a wonderful friend she was.

The next morning you were up and dressed before your alarm had gone off. Your suitcases were by the door, and you were nervously sitting at the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee when she came stumbling into the room. Her hair was tangled, her eyes heavy, her feet encased in her favorite pink fluffy slippers. Paparazzi would kill to get this view of your best friend who was always so poised.

“You’re up early,” you told her, pouring her a cup of coffee.

“Wanted to wish you well,” she mumbled, adding sugar and creamer to her coffee.

“Well you wished me well, so go back to bed,” you ordered. “After all, you have a long night ahead of you.”

“I think I will,” she yawned, sitting her coffee cup down before hugging you tightly. “Have fun, be safe, and please just let yourself have fun.”

“I will, I promise,” you assured her, watching as she sauntered out of the room just as the door buzzed.

Taking a deep breath, you threw your purse over your shoulder, your hand on your suitcase as you opened the door. Jensen stood there, sunglasses perched on his head, wearing a loose white button up shirt and a pair of dark faded jeans. He looked even more handsome than the night before, if that was possible. “Looking beautiful,” he spoke up, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ready to go?”

“Yes I am,” you answered strongly, even though your heart was racing.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @bebravekeeponfighting @brindz30 @colette2537 @crusadedean @darthshreydar @dean-winchesters-bacon @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @imascio08 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @keikoraventeller @lauren-novak @librarygeekery @mlovesstories @msimpala67 @michirutenshi @pisces-cutie @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thegrungequeer @thewinchestergirl1208 @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester

A Royal Crush Tags: @newtospnfandom @linki-locks11 @imascio08 @joseyrw @randomstuff-idontwannatalkboutit @destiel-equals-life @deansgirl215 @horsegirly99 @mysterious-398 @iamabeautifulperson18 @karouwinchester @meganywinchester @crazysocklovingfangirl @xristina-gkika

Forever Tags: @16wiishes @4401lnc @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andkatiethings @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anspgene @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @bumber-car-s @brooke-supernatural16 @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @captainemwinchester @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @donnaintx @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @duckieburns @docharleythegeekqueen @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @essie1876 @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @herbologystudent252 @heyitscam99 @highfunctioning-soiciopath @hms-fangirl @hobby27 @ichooseeternalplaces @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @leanbeankeane @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @luciferslucille @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @nanie5 @natashacamillaus @newtospnfandom @offbeatsilhouette @offbeatwriting @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @smoothdogsgirl @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @sunskittlex @starry-chaos @superbadassnatural @thebikiniinspector @theflameontheinside @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tina8009 @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @walkslikesummeractslikerain @whimsicalrobots @wildlandfox @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @worldwidehansum @yourvoiceislikearose @zombiewerewolfqueen

#a royal crush #jensen ackles x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural rpf #katy writes #supernatural au #jensen ackles au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #supernatural #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles

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domestic-queen-blog · 5 years

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Freddie and Roger in 1973 working on the market selling their old clothes au

'You can't hang that there, it's clearly a tshirt. That's where we hang dresses'

'No I KNOW that but it could soooo be a dress if you put a belt on it like that, see?'

'Freddie, it's a tshirt for men, you can't put that on the same rack as these flowery strappy mini dresses'

'OH, I see! So by Roger's standards, girls can't be eccentric with their style and wear clothes 'made' for the opposite sex? We run a shitty fashion stand, Roger, we are supposed to be PROMOTING the idea of trying something new and being more out there'

'That's not BEING out there, Fred, that's a boring blue tshirt that no girl is going to want to wear'

'I'll be right back'

Freddie grabs the navy blue tshirt and struts off behind the curtains of the open area of their stand. It's 9am and the market is just starting to get busy. They have almost finished setting up for the day, although their stand always looks a bit of a mess. Racks and racks and stacks and stacks of clothes they've found, each item telling a different wacky story, whether it's an ancient headdress accessory from Freddie's childhood in Zanzibar or a skimpy sexy skirt given to Roger by a pretty face on a drunk night out; they had everything there, and the stall had actually became a popular attraction to the high street market shoppers.

'Fucking shit, whe- Roger where are the scissors? The big industrial ones?' Freddie calls from behind the curtains.

Roger slides a cigarette out from the packet in his hand with his thumb then takes it between his teeth before shoving the box back in his pocket. He reaches for the box of matches left on the seat of Freddie's high chair and lights it, sparking a flame.

'In the second drawer of the broken wooden cabinet, the first one doesn't move so don't get the second one jammed trying to open it'

Roger picks up his cup of coffee and takes a sip, cigarette still in his hand. He and Freddie have been running this stall for a month in an attempt to make extra money. They had a flat together in London and their rent was demanding lately so they had this on the weekends to make sure they were rarely skint. It was funny, and they met a lot of interesting people, because their stall attracted a lot of interesting people, so it was never dull.

Freddie prances back out from behind the curtain with a big smirk across his face.

'Look at what I'VE made' he exclaims, unable to even attempt to be humble because he's so proud of himself. Using the dull blue tshirt that he and Roger had been arguing pointlessly about for an hour, he had reverted the entire thing into the strangest yet classiest dress Roger had seen in a long time. He'd cut the sleeves off and sewn them inwards so his messy cutting wasn't visible, and pulled the waist of the shirt in to create a curve, synching the middle to fit the figure of a woman better, and sliced the bottom of the shirt so it was tight and asymmetrical. It looked like a new piece of clothing. He was so smug.

'Impressive' said Roger, playing it off like he was unbothered but Freddie's natural eye for style was something he envied overwhelmingly 'NOW you can hang it with the dresses'

'Too right I can' spat Freddie, and he skips over to the rack of dresses and places the blue dress at the front so it's the first to be seen by customers. Flicking his long black messy hair behind his shoulder, he walks over to his high chair and sits down. He crossed his legs and grips the side of the chair with his hands, and swings his legs back and fourth softly, whilst Roger continues to smoke his cigarette, leaning back on the rack of coats.

Time goes on throughout the day and their sales are going well. It's getting really hot though. It's only May but for some reason it feels like Summer and Freddie starts fanning himself with his hand.

'This is unbearable' he whines dramatically, and Roger rolls his eyes

'Take your jacket off then' suggests Roger, who lifts off his Hendrix tshirt so he is now stood bare chested. He's shameless and has girls to impress. Freddie shakes his head in a very matter of fact way. It's a beautiful jacket. It's a cropped velvet blazer the colour of red wine, embroidered with extravagant flowers of gold and crimson and green. His sister got it for him, and it's one of his favourite items of clothing in the whole world. Only thing is, it's not suitable for hot days.

'I can't risk taking this jacket off. What if it gets put down amongst the stuff we are selling and then you accidentally let some girl buy it because you're too busy thinking about getting in her knickers to notice that it's NOT for sale' says Freddie, folding his arms and frowning at Roger, but he can't help but feel very uncomfortable in the heat. Roger starts laughing.

'Freddie, I won't let that happen, just take it off and put it behind those shoes, no one ever looks down there' says Roger, pointing to the area of unpopular clogs that for some strange reason never make any sales. Freddie groans.

'Fine, but if you sell it I am suing you' he snarls, taking off the jacket to reveal a tight white tshirt with a wide neck, revealing his sharp collarbones and the top of his chest hair, and very short sleeves, and folding it, before laying it down next to a rather horrid looking pair of white shoes, and Freddie makes a face of disgust as he sets the jacket down, wondering where on earth Roger got them because they certainly didn't belong to him. He walks back to Roger, folding his arms again, and looks at Roger with a face of disproval.

'Who the hell are you trying to impress looking like that?' Freddie questions, looking Roger up and down as he stands there with his hands on his bare hips wearing nothing but a pair of sparkly blue flip flops and some black trousers; coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other, and a pair of huge sunglasses buried in his blonde locks.

People wander in and out of the stall, browsing for items with intrigued looks on their faces, and Freddie and Roger flash them the occasional smile, and will talk to them if they are called for.

'Ladies, my friend, ladies love a drummer, and if I dress like this, they'll get drummer vibes' says Roger, winking at Freddie, to which Freddie rolls his eyes, turning around to face away from the open area and squatting down in a crouch position with his legs open to get a bottle of water from the crate they keep on the floor. His tshirt is too small so his lower back can be seen as the shirt rides up. He is visible to the people who pass by the stall despite being on the floor; they can see over the stand.

Whilst Freddie is on the floor unscrewing the lid of the water, he hears a whistle, followed by Roger laughing, and Freddie frowns. He stands up and looks at Roger, who is giggling, which doesn't amuse Freddie, and then turns to face the culprit of the whistle, which is what is causing Roger's outburst. In front of Freddie stands the most gorgeous man Freddie has ever seen in his life. He's got short blonde hair and a five o clock shadow of stubble. He looks strong and wears a white blazer and has one of his ears pierced. Freddie looks him up and down and goes bright red, readjusting his mouth to his teeth as his bambi eyes meet directly with the stranger who stands before him.

'I like your top, are you guys selling anything like that here?' the stranger says with ease, pointing at Freddie's tshirt.

'What, HA! This old thing? Pfttt' Freddie says, high pitched and very flustered. He laughs nervously, covering his teeth with his campy hand, flawed by this man's sex appeal and angry at how quickly he lost his cool.

'Yeah we got loads of stuff like this'. He clears his throat softly, then licks his lips, and gathers himself together, feeling much more under pressure than usual because Roger is staring him down waiting to see how this pans out.

'What sort of thing are you looking for?' Freddie asks, a bit more bounce restored in his voice, and he sucks his cheeks in and readjusts his mouth again, something he does all the time due to his sad insecurities surrounding his beautiful teeth. The man smirks.

'I'm looking for a pair of white flares, but now that I'm here I may as well get your number as well' the stranger says, grinning as he can tell Freddie is melting for him. Freddie's jaw drops open with a massive gasp and a smirk. Just as this is happening, John and Brian come round the corner for their daily visit. They stop by all the time.

'Perfect timing' says Roger sarcastically, 'Freddie's about to get married'

'Shut up, Roger' says Freddie exasperated, hitting Roger lightly on the arm with the back of his hand before turning back to the angel stood in front of him and starts to twirl a strand of his fluffy black hair. John and Brian realise what's happening.

'How about I take you round the back, we have flares round there' says Freddie, and before the man can answer, Freddie has him by the hand and pulls him to the storage area of the stand, biting his lip.

'Ridiculous, isn't it? I'm stood here with no shirt on looking like a rock star, and girls just give me weird looks, but he can get a boyfriend in the time it takes for him to bend down to get a drink' Roger moans, lighting another cigarette.

'Maybe selling clothes isn't the money maker for you, you should be washing girl's cars or offering lifts on motorbikes' jokes Brian, bored already of Roger's sob story.

'Whatever, sales have been good today at least, we got a lot done' Roger inhales a drag of his cigarette and blows it directly into John's face. 'What have you been up to?'

'Absolutely nothing' responds John. 'I only woke up an hour ago, Bri dragged me out of bed with the promise that we'd get breakfast which still hasn't happened yet' he looks at Brian with dissatisfaction.

'It will, it will! I just can't go too far from this area until my guitar is fixed. I handed it in to the repair shop an hour ago and they said it should be done by 1 which is in 20 minutes so we just have to wait' Brian runs his hands through his crazy curls 'Jesus christ it's hot'.

'Yeah I know, that's why I took off my shirt!' Roger says, raising his voice.

'Good to know that's the reason' Brian says with sarcasm. 'You guys working till 5 or 6 today? Because there's a rock show happening later a few blocks down and we were wondering if you and Fred wanted to join us once you're done?'

A man in his thirties comes by and starts to look through the clothing. He's stylish, with glasses and wavy hair, has a slight John Lennon look to him, but less extra, and he makes his way over to the shoes. He then picks up the jacket that Freddie had left there for safe keeping, and nods.

'Yeah, man, that sounds gear, we wrap up at 5 but packing all this shit down takes about an hour so we'll be finished around 6, where shall we meet you?' is Roger's response, not yet noticing their latest customer. Freddie is out of sight.

The man approaches Roger.

'Sorry to interrupt mate, but how much does this cost?' he asks politely. Roger is distracted by the possible plan for this evening that he has completely forgotten about Freddie's strict instructions to protect that jacket with his life.

'No, not at all man, uhh, you can have that for a tenner' says Roger, smiling wide. The man's eyes widen.

'Really? Just ten quid? Surely it's more than that, I saw this going in Biba for about fifty the other week?' the man says generously. Roger has a lightbulb moment and nods.

'Yeah, you're right, sorry, I thought it was a different piece of clothing, you can have that half price so twenty five quid please' says Roger, thinking he's being smart. The man beams and nods his head.

'Sure thing!' he gets his money out and hands it to Roger, 'thanks so much! Have a great day!'

'No worries, mate, you too!' Roger calls out after him, before placing the notes in the till and turning back to Brian and John, leaning back on the rack of trousers. 'If you guys just meet us here after our shift then we can pack this shit into your car and drive up. I might bring Crystal, actually, should probably give her a ring later, see if she's about'

As Brian and John are nodding at that, half of Freddie appears from behind the curtain. He's waving his love-at-first-sight off.

'I'll be around this evening for you to call me, darling!' he giggles, 'oh stop it, you're so naughty'

Freddie re-enters the main area of the stall and stands to face his friends. He puts his hands on his heart and he spins round on his feet, swooning.

'Wasn't he just a DREAM?' he says with an airy tone in his voice like he's out of breath. He looks a little more disheveled than he was when he left, his shirt riding up a little to reveal his hairy little stomach and his midnight black hair is sticking up a little.

'Someone's had fun, you know you are at WORK, Freddie', Roger's tone is moody.

'You're just in a sulk because you thought you were going to get some because you took your top off and then I happened to be the-' Freddie stops speaking mid sentence, as his eyes have noticed something.

'Roger...' he says, with deep deep seriousness.

'Yeah, what?' Roger asks, in a daze.

'Where is my jacket...?' Freddie's jacket is not where he left it, nor is it anywhere else as Freddie's eyes scan the surface of the stall. Brian and John appear confused, they weren't aware of the conversation earlier on in the day. Roger, on the other hand, looks like he's seen a ghost. All the colour drains from his face, and Freddie clenches his fists and grits his teeth, slowly stepping closer to Roger. Roger backs up against the racks of jeans and flares.

'Freddie, I'm so sorry'

'Who was he'

'Freddie I don't kn-'

'What did he look like'

'Uhh he h-had long hair a-and glasses, looked a bit l-like John Lennon'

'How much did he give you'

'Twenty five quid'

'YOU LET HIM GIVE YOU TWENTY FIVE STUPID POUNDS FOR MY FUCKING ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TWO POUND JACKET??'

'He told me he saw it in Biba the other day going for fifty!'

'The stupid cow was LYING! Which way did he go?'

Brian is trying not to laugh, clearly he and John missed a lot of the previous events in the day because this whole situation has escalated fairly fast. One minute Freddie was getting physical with a cute guy behind the curtains, and now he looks like he's actually going to KILL Roger. It's amusing to them from an outside perspective. Brian points left.

'He went that way'

Without any warning, Freddie storms over to the till and takes out fifty quid, and before the others know it he's gone. Running as fast as his skinny little legs will go in black clogs, stumbling like a baby dear, he hurtles down the street screaming 'WHO HAS MY FUCKING JACKET!' as people stare in disbelief. He stops every now and again to scan the perimeter to see if he can spot anyone who matches Roger's weak description, before bolting off again, in and out of market stalls. Then, across the road, is the fifth Beatle looking man, and as Freddie's eyes go into superzoom, he is carrying what Freddie recognises as his pride and joy piece of clothing. He dashes across the road as he is beeped by taxis and cars for not adhering to red lights, and finally catches up to the man, grabbing him by the shoulders. The man freaks out and turns around really fast, staring at the crazy looking mass of black hair stood before him with an expression of horror.

'What the fuck are you doing?' he questions, clearly alarmed by this whole thing because he's not quite sure what he's done wrong.

Freddie is out of breath but won't show it, and he puts his hands on his little feminine hips and gestures to the jacket in the mans hand.

'That's my jacket'

'No it's not, I bought it 10 minutes ago'

'I know you did, you bought it from my clothing stall. My idiot friend sold it to you by mistake, it wasn't for sale, I want it back'

'Well, you can't have it back! I bought it for twenty five pounds!'

'Listen to me, you ridiculous tart. I bought that jacket for £152, and you know that, because my friend told me you mugged him off with the prices. Now, I don't need to worry about money, because I'm going to be famous one day, but you, I don't see you doing anything interesting anytime soon. so I will give you double the refund price, but I am taking my jacket back'

Freddie hands him the fifty quid and before the guy can really do anything, snatches back his jacket and struts away, his thick black hair bouncing as he walks with a slight skip in his step, happy because he has won.

Brian and John are still there when Freddie returns, and they all stare at him as he walks past them, looking exhausted.

'See? You got it back, panic over' says Roger, trying to take the attention off the fact that he is the one who fucked up.

'Roger, you're a fucking idiot, and I am never trusting you with anything of mine again' Freddie says as he wraps the sleeves of the jacket around his tiny waist.

'That's harsh, come on, it was an easy mistake. Blame these two for coming over and distracting me' Roger exclaims, pointing at Brian and John who just roll their eyes. Freddie frowns, readjusting his mouth, and takes a cigarette from Roger's box. He doesn't like to smoke much, he's just doing this to get on Roger's nerves. He lights it and takes a drag, crossing his arms and flicking his hair behind his shoulder.

'I'm still suing you'

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