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burberryharold · 2 years

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When Flowers Bloom

In which Harry is a little too fond of his daughter's kindergarten teacher, Daisy.

Word count: 11k

Warnings: just some angst, mentions of divorce, dad!harry (yes, he's a warning, for your ovaries mostly), a shit ton of fluff that might make you sick, just two painfully oblivious adults, an a curse word or two. (Not my best writing in general lol, and sorry about any typos I missed!)

A/N: here’s the promised single dad florist!harry fluff! I loved writing this story and I hope you guys enjoy reading it! And happy Valentine’s Day, especially if you’re single AF like me because who said we can’t enjoy February 14th on our own? Treat yourself and remember that you are much loved <3 Happy reading, my loves!

From the moment she was born, Daisy’s life was planned down to every detail.

When she’s four, she will go to kindergarten, because her parents wanted her in school as soon as possible.

When she’s six, she will go to the private school that her parents’ friends send their own kids to, so she can have the best education possible.

When she graduates sixth form, she will go to university and study to become a lawyer, just like her parents.

Daisy loved her parents and she always wanted to make them proud of her, just like everyone else, but ever since she was a kid, she just wished they would let her do what she wanted to do.

Everything was planned for Daisy and she had no control over her own life.

Until she had the courage to finally take charge and pursue her own goals, not anyone else’s.

Constantly being surrounded by a bunch of rambunctious 5 year olds is what some may consider a nightmare, but Daisy absolutely loved her job.

Being a kindergarten teacher wasn’t what she had originally planned for herself. When asked about what she wanted to be when she grew up, a teacher was never the answer.

But life is unpredictable and works in mysterious ways.

What started as a studious journey to become a lawyer ended in her quitting law school and pursuing a career in teaching instead. Her close friend, Camila, had once asked her if she could volunteer for a weekend at the school she works in, and Daisy being Daisy, of course said yes (she’d never deny a friend in need). That day, she had the opportunity to interact with a few kids, helping them write letters and count to ten, and she felt as if she was right where she belonged; that’s when she realised that this is what she was meant to do, not stand in a courtroom just because that’s what her parents had planned for her.

That day, Daisy decided she would quit law school and her parents’ plans for her and follow her heart instead, and now, four years later, she still has no regrets over making the switch. She’s never felt happier or more fulfilled in life.

Watching her kids’ little faces smile in triumph whenever they managed to write a word correctly (however wonky) or colour properly within the lines was a feeling unmatched by no other.

She was particularly attached to one specific kid in her class this year, Lily. Although she would never admit it out loud, for Daisy takes her job very seriously and doesn’t want to play favourites, the little green-eyed girl has a special place in her heart.

And Daisy may or may not have a tiny little crush on Lily’s handsome father.

It’s not her fault that the man is the sweetest person she’d ever encountered. When she met him for the first time, just a couple of weeks before school started because he wanted to know who was going to be teaching his daughter (bless him), Daisy was instantly charmed.

When he had smiled at her and introduced himself with a simple “Hi, I’m Harry, Lily Styles’ dad,” she knew she was a goner.

He was a little shy but had an array of questions about her teaching methods and how she deals with the kids in class, and he listened carefully to her response to every one of her worries.

(That wasn’t anything new to Daisy, she was used to parents interrogating her and she had no qualms with it, she completely understood where they were coming from and tried her best to ease their worries.)

By the time he was done, Daisy could sense that he was more relaxed and she was mesmerised by the easy-going smile tugging at his lips.

(Daisy knew she was in deep when she laughed at his terrible dad jokes.)

But how could she possibly resist the gorgeous man who owned a flower shop and had the cutest little angel?

“Miss Daisy,” a little voice pulls her out of her daydreams, “can you help me colour?”

“Of course, sweetface, what do you want me to colour?”

The small chair (clearly not meant for people her size) is as uncomfortable as ever, but Daisy still leans forward and examines the array of crayons scattered. She didn’t want to leave Lily all on her own and so she joined her at the table located in the middle of the room after the last kid left; for the past half hour, she has sat there and watched the sweet girl draw on some paper, exchanging a few words here and there. It seems like she has moved on to one of the many colouring books Daisy keeps in the class, small hand holding a pink crayon.

Suffice to say, Daisy has never seen a pink penguin before. But she imagines it would be very cute.

“Could you do the tree over there, please?” Lily asks in a polite manner, flashing her a toothy smile.

As if she could tell her no.

(Also, why is there a bloody tree next to the penguin? Last time she checked, there were no trees in Antarctica.)

Daisy pouts, looking back at the girl, “It looks difficult, but I will try.”

Lily giggles at her teacher’s silliness, handing her a light green crayon and pointing to the tree in question, “No, it’s not, Miss Daisy, you can do it, I believe in you.”

Would it really be that big of a crime if she just kept this child all too herself?

No, she can’t do that to Harry.

“Thank you, sweetface,” Daisy extends a hand and boops Lily’s nose, making her giggle again, “Gonna come to you whenever I need a boost of confidence, eh?”

She almost laughs out loud at the way Lily just shrugs and goes back to her pink penguin. Children are hilarious and it makes her job much more entertaining.

Daisy wished adults didn’t take themselves too seriously and were more like her kids.

Harry seems like a fun person to be around, she thinks to herself before breathing out a sigh.

Too busy daydreaming about her student’s father as she filled in the leaves of the tree, she didn’t notice that said father had arrived at her classroom until he gently knocked on the door and a small voice screamed “Daddy!”

Harry smiled and dropped to his knees, shouting with equal excitement, “My little flower!” as she ran into his open arms.

Daisy couldn’t help but smile at the sight, lips stretching further upon hearing him mumble “Missed you” into his daughter’s hair.

It is clear as day just how much this man adores daughter, and that only made Daisy fall deeper.

She couldn’t help but think back to the day she first met Lily. When Daisy had introduced herself to the little girl tightly grasping the leg of her father’s pants, looking up at her with wide, curious eyes, Lily suddenly brightened, like a flower coming to full bloom, “You’re a flower like me! I’m Lily and my dad says I’m the prettiest flower!”

Daisy swears she almost melted into a puddle.

Harry lifted his head and he sent her an apologetic smile as their eyes connected, “I’m so sorry for keeping you late, couldn’t get out of work faster and no one else could pick her up.”

Waving him off, Daisy stood up and started to pack up Lily’s things, “No worries at all, I don’t mind spending extra time with this little monkey.” She winked at Lily, who was still wrapped up in her father’s embrace, causing her to giggle.

“Hope she didn’t cause any trouble,” he stood up, playfully narrowing his eyes at his child, “Flower, were you good for Miss Daisy?”

“Yes, Daddy, I promise.” Lily nodded her head, laying a hand over her heart and Daisy almost cooed at the girl. She was too damn cute.

Harry grinned at his daughter and kissed her head, “Okay, flower, ready to go home then?” Once against, Lily nodded her head and wiggled in his arms at the prospect of finally going home.

“Say bye to Miss Daisy then before we go,” the second he put her down on the ground, Lily ran towards her teacher and wrapped her little arms around her legs.

Kneeling on the ground, Daisy gives the precious girl a proper hug, “Alright, bye bye, sweetface.” She then feels a sloppy kiss on her cheek that made her chuckle, “Bye, Miss Daisy!”

After perching her small sparkly backpack on his shoulder, Harry grabbed Lily’s hand before they made their way out the door. “Have a good weekend, Daisy.” Harry flashed her a grin, the one that always made her heart flutter, before he was dragged away by the 5 year-old.

“Good weekend!” Lily exclaimed, echoing her father’s words and shooting her a small wave over her shoulder.

“Have a good weekend, you two!” Daisy yelled after them, amusement lacing her tone at the way Harry almost tripped because Lily was running too fast whilst still their hands were still attached.

Yeah, she was in big trouble.

Harry loves his job, but he always looks forward to the weekends.

Saturdays are his lazy days; he’s off from work and he would sleep in until he feels Lily climb into his bed and jump on him, yelling “It’s time to wake up, Daddy!” Sometimes she would end up landing on his back, making him wheeze in pain (Harry thinks he has the body of an 80 year-old grandpa) before he turns and tickles the little monster, basking in the sound of her joyful laughter in the morning. Although he would rather not have his body stepped on by his mini-human, Harry cherishes moments like these because he knows that one day he won’t get to have them anymore; he dreads the days when his daughter would stop thinking he’s cool and would rather spend her time with other people instead (he’s all too familiar with that stage of teenage years, he’s been there).

So for as long as he can, he’ll take any moment he can spend with her, potential broken bones included.

After cuddling for a few minutes, because Harry is always in need for a cuddle with his little flower, they would do their morning routine side by side in the bathroom, which would often include making silly faces at each other in the mirror and dancing while brushing their teeth, then go on about making breakfast.

Lily loves being in the kitchen with her father and so Harry makes sure to let her help with cooking or baking in any way. He’d let her crack the eggs (which she’s gotten very good at) or stir the pancake batter, just simple tasks that are easy to do and won’t risk her getting hurt.

Of course, because his daughter is a little troublemaker, sometimes making breakfast would turn into a mini food fight. She would throw a small fistful of flour at him, or smudge his cheek with chocolate syrup. Once, she smashed an egg on top of his head when she was sitting on the counter, breaking the one rule they had for their kitchen shenanigans, which was to not mess up anyone’s hair, and Harry had never experienced a bigger betrayal (that was a lie, the absence of his ex wife is a clear indication, but Harry doesn’t like to think about that much.)

The rest of the day would be spent watching some tv, playing whatever game Lily fancies at the time, and if the weather allows it, they would venture out to the park and the playground close to their house for a couple of hours until Lily is tired and ready to go home.

With their bellies full after supper, the father and daughter would retreat to the couch and cuddle, watching a movie or two until Lily’s bedtime. He would carry the sleepy child to the bathroom so she can brush her teeth or else “they would rot, little flower, and no one wants rotten teeth!” as he always tells her.

Sometimes she would be awake enough for him to read her a story, or she falls asleep instantly. In either case, Harry stays beside her on the bed, watching her gently drift away to the land of dreams and silently thank the God above for giving him Lily.

So Harry loves Saturdays because he gets to spend the whole day with his baby with no interruptions whatsoever.

But he also loves Sundays, for multiple reasons.

One, he and Lily go down to his flower shop, Lily’s, in the morning, with the sun shining brightly down on them and the birds chirping, singing their daily song. He loves the walk from their flat to the shop, because Lily would always swing their conjoined hands and sing quietly to herself, occasionally smiling up at him when he sings along, and Harry’s heart feels at peace.

He hopes to have hundreds of their Sunday walks to the shop over the years.

Two, he loved being in the shop Sunday morning when there aren’t many customers yet. His shop has grown quite popular over the last few years, with many young people coming and taking an abundance of aesthetic pictures for their Instagram and hanging out in the little designated cafe area (he wanted his customers to be able to sit and have some tea and a pastry while they waited for their orders). He doesn’t mind it because even though they can be loud and tend to spend more time on their phones than taking in the beauty of the flowers, it is technically free promo for him, so he leaves them be.

After Lily and his family, his shop is his top priority. He hadn’t always wanted to be a florist and open his own shop, but he was interested in flowers and plants ever since he was young.

Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted to study at uni, but he eventually went with a business degree. Upon graduation, he knew he didn’t want to continue working in a company and be stuck in an office, and when his mum suggested that he open up and run his own business, something clicked in his mind and he instantly knew what to do.

So after he and Eileen got married, right after graduation, he started planning and had everything ready to open a flower shop. But then his ex wife fell pregnant and Harry decided to postpone the whole project and focus on his family first.

They hadn’t decided on a name for their baby girl before the birth, but Harry wanted to name her after a flower and Eileen loved the idea. The moment he laid eyes on his little flower, he knew she was his Lily Anne.

(He thinks naming the shop Lily’s was very clever of him; he’s a big fan of wordplay. Besides, Lilies was just too cliché for a floral shop.)

The idea for the flower shop remained on the back burner until they finalised their divorce, then Harry took the risk and quit his job to start his own business, all while taking care of a newborn.

Of course he had plenty of help from his family, particularly his mother, and his close friends, but it was still an exhausting process to the point that Harry thought of giving up once or twice.

But he has no regrets for the way his life turned out. Yes, he no longer has a wife and his daughter doesn’t have someone that she can call “Mum”, but they have each other and a place that they both love dearly (Lily is obsessed with flowers, just like him) and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Like his mother always reminds him, life works in mysterious ways.

Three, and he’s slightly embarrassed about this particular reason, Daisy makes an appearance at exactly 10:30 AM every other Sunday. It’s probably inappropriate and he should absolutely not feel this way about his daughter’s kindergarten teacher, but Harry can’t deny the pull he feels towards Daisy Atkins.

Harry has been on very few dates since Lily was born, and on every single one of them, he never really felt interested in the woman sitting across the table. He keeps telling himself it’s because they just don’t fit, that they’re the wrong women for him, but Harry knows that the primary reason for his disinterest and apprehension towards dating in general is his fear of heartbreak.

He’s been through it once and he doesn’t want to experience it again, especially since someone else is involved in the equation, and Harry will always put Lily first. She’s his entire world and he’d be damned if he let another woman abandon or hurt them.

That’s why he always has his guard up. Sure, Harry sometimes flirts with people, he’s always had a flirty nature, but it never got past that, and he’s not sure if it ever will.

His mother has encouraged him many times to try and be in a serious relationship, insisting that he can’t stay lonely for the rest of his life. “Harry, you deserve to be loved, and I know there is someone out there for you, you just have to be open to that idea.”

For the longest time, Harry didn’t listen to his mother. He was certain that there isn’t a woman out there that wouldn’t break his heart and he refused to let himself be that vulnerable ever again. (The last time he did, he thought he was living happily with his wife, the love of his life, until the rug was pulled out from under him and she left him and Lily like they never mattered to her. Like he never mattered or meant anything to her.)

But that started to change when Lily went to school. The prospect of sending his daughter out there into the world without him was terrifying to Harry. He knew that it was the best thing to do for Lily, so she could interact with other kids her age and learn in a different environment, but Harry selfishly wanted to keep her by his side and all to himself.

So being the anxious parent he is, he went to the school a couple of weeks before kindergarten started to meet his daughter’s teacher. He told his mother that if he saw any red flags or didn’t like even the smallest of details, he would immediately pull Lily out of the school.

They both knew he was looking for any excuse to keep Lily with him, so Anne insisted she would accompany him and assess things herself. “I know what to look for Harry, I did raise you and Gemma, didn’t I?”

Originally, he wanted to meet this Miss Atkins much earlier on, but apparently she was on a holiday for a month abroad and couldn’t be present, so Harry settled for a meeting before school was in session.

He remembers that day clearly. He and Anne walked into what would be his daughter’s classroom and were immediately met with warm eyes and a kind smile. “Hello! You must be Mr. Styles, I’m Daisy Atkins.”

When Harry was younger, he thought of himself as quite the hopeless romantic (not so much now, heartbreak tends to do that to a person), but he didn’t really believe in love at first sight.

But when he locked eyes with her, he almost did.

He still doesn’t think love at first sight is a thing (because how could you possibly fall for someone that you don’t even know?) but what he does know for certain is that he felt something that day, deep down in his heart, that told him that this woman was special.

And that feeling was right, because Daisy Atkins is indeed special.

Harry can’t say that he’s in love, his heart is too damaged to fall that hard that fast, but he knows he has very strong feelings towards his daughter’s teacher, and he’s never felt that way towards anyone before (at least not after Eileen).

But he’s not sure what to do about it.

Plus, he’s only known her for a few months, it’s only January, and quite frankly, he doesn’t know much about Daisy.

All he knows is that she’s 28 like him, she’s passionate about teaching, is a single child, her mother passed away two years ago, loves flowers, and tends to bake way too much for her own good. “Harry, one day I’m gonna die from stuffing myself with too many muffins, I swear to you!”

But most importantly, she’s single. He has Lily to thank for knowing that, because she’s the one that asked Daisy, quite bluntly, if she’s lonely like her father. Harry had gasped at his daughter’s words, ignoring the cheeky smile on her face, and mumbled “How dare you?” to which she just giggled and returned to her drawing.

Maybe she needs to spend less time with her granny, he remembers thinking to himself before turning to Daisy, who was trying to hold back a laugh but failed miserably. “Sorry about that.”

She easily waved him off, shaking her head again, “Don’t worry about it. And to answer your question, little miss,” she leaned over the table, standing across Lily whose attention shifted again to her teacher, “I am not lonely, I have my cat to keep me company every day, silly.”

That, and the fact that she has never once mentioned a boyfriend or any romantic interest, told him that she was single just like him.

(At least he really hoped so.)

And Harry just wants to get to know her better. He wants to know what irks her in the morning, if she hates it when people chew loudly like he does, if she likes to binge watch trashy reality shows in her free time. He wants to know what makes her laugh, what makes her cry, what makes her blush, what makes her flustered…

Harry wants to know everything there is to know about Daisy Atkins.

The sound of a little bell ringing, signalling that someone walked into the shop, breaks Harry out of his reverie. Shifting his attention from the arrangement of hydrangeas in his hands to greet the customer, Harry’s lips twist into a bright smile at the woman making her way to the counter.

Calm down, Harry.

Before he has the chance to greet her, his daughter shrieks and clumsily jumps out of her seat (Harry had placed a small table near the counter for her to sit and colour her drawings on), running to greet her favourite (and only) teacher. “Miss Daisy!”

Daisy gasped out loud in feigned shock at seeing the little girl, wrapping her coat tighter around her frame in an attempt to warm herself up, “Lily? What are you doing here in this shop?”

Lily giggles, looking up at her with her arms still wrapped tightly around Daisy’s legs, “You see me here many times, silly!”

Tapping her chin as if she’s in deep thought, Daisy snaps her fingers and responds after a few moments, smiling down at his daughter, “That’s right, sweetface, how could I forget that? Silly me.”

Harry just watches the two interact with a smile plastered on his face (that always seems to be the case whenever she’s around) and waits for Daisy to approach the counter where he’s still standing.

He struggles to hear what they’re saying because they’re now whispering, but then Lily skips back to her little table and the woman he’s grown a little too fond of finally looks his way.

His heart betrays him by skipping a beat at the way she smiles at him and he tries to calm it down, but to no avail.

Despite the abundance of strong floral scents all around them, Harry can still recognise her signature perfume when she’s in front of him and he so desperately wishes he could reach out and wrap his arms around her. But they’ve never done that before, the closest Harry has gotten was standing right beside her and talking, but that was it. (Oh how he wishes he could be wrapped up in her warm embrace as she often does to Lily.)

“Good morning, Harry,” her sweet voice invades his senses, much like her perfume, and he almost melts. God, you are pathetic.

“Morning, love,” he doesn’t know how his voice doesn’t waver or break, but he’s thankful for it. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her any more than he already has.

Light pink dusts her cheeks (no doubt from the cold) and the sun shining through the big front windows of the shop cast a glow around her almost as if she was an angel, a celestial being that doesn’t belong to this realm yet here she is right in front of him.

Harry’s almost rendered speechless at the sight.

“So what’s today’s bouquet?” She asks in that sweet voice of hers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her right ear. She was clad in a cosy black and white coat, a grey turtleneck underneath with fitting blue jeans (Harry tries his best not to stare too much) with her hair pulled back in a low bun. She looks gorgeous, just like every time he’s lucky enough to see her.

He looks down at the arrangement of blue and purple flowers he’s still holding, “I recently got a bunch of hydrangeas and thought they looked very pretty, so.” He bit his bottom lip, waiting to see her reaction and hoping that she doesn’t hate the arrangement he prepared for her this Sunday.

As usual, he didn’t have any reason to worry because Daisy smiled at him, as she always did, and nodded her head in approval. “They look very beautiful, Harry, I’m sure my mum will love them.”

He noticed the sad glint in her eyes at the thought of her mother. He can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose his own, his mum means so much to him and he would be lost without her.

The first time she came into his shop, they were both surprised to see each other. He wasn’t expecting to see her outside of school, even though they live in the same city and he could very well run into her anywhere, but the thought never crossed his mind for some reason. He couldn’t help but wonder if they had caught glimpses of each other in the past, before they officially met, but Harry finds it hard to believe that he could ever forget seeing her.

As for Daisy, she told him that she had no idea he was a florist, “Although I should’ve guessed since Lily’s so obsessed with flowers.” After a few weeks, he learns that Daisy visits her mother’s grave every other Sunday and likes to bring her flowers every time, “My mother loves flowers, my dad always brought her a bouquet every Friday on his way home from work,” she once told him, and his shop happens to be on her way.

Originally, his shop wasn’t in this location, but they had recently moved to a bigger space that is much closer to his flat, so she was very happy that she didn’t have to go too far to get flowers.

Since then, Harry makes sure to give her the best flower arrangements just to see her smile, and so she could bring her mother pretty flowers whenever she visits her.

“I’m glad you think so,” Harry responded with a smile, ring clad hands adroitly tying a delicate ribbon around the bouquet, “it’s just about ready.” He takes notice of the way her eyes seem to follow his movements, though he’s not entirely sure if she’s watching his hands or the bouquet, but he likes to think it’s the former. (Lily tells him his rings are pretty, so maybe Daisy thinks so, too.)

Much to his dismay, no more words are exchanged between them as he finishes up, his gaze shifting to her every few moments to find her already staring at him, then they would both blush and instantly look away.

He extends the floral arrangement towards her and watches as she sniffs the flowers, smiling with her eyes closed, and Harry wishes he could give her flowers every day just to see her reaction.

When her gaze shifts back to him, she tilts her head slightly and he can see the teasing glint in her eyes. “You’re not gonna tell me how much these are for, are you?”

He smirks, leaning his forearms on the counter, completely missing the way she glanced at his arms, “What do you think?”

He’d never let her pay for any of the bouquets. Business wise, it’s obviously not the smartest decision, but it’s his shop and he’s not going to let the beautiful woman he fancies give him any money.

But she’s just as stubborn as he is, that’s why she always leaves some cash in the tip jar he has on the counter, usually right before she dashes out of the shop so he wouldn’t have the chance to argue back.

Shaking her head at him, a smile still on her pretty lips, she reaches into her purse to take out her wallet, “I think that this is bad for business. Do you usually give out free bouquets to your customers?”

Harry chuckles, not bothering to fight her as she slips money into the jar, her eyes daring him to try to stop her. “No, just the pretty ones.”

The redness in her cheeks deepens and he can’t help but reveal in her reaction. Maybe she feels the same way as he does? Maybe she can sense that there’s something there?

“Bet you say that to many women, eh?”

He shakes his head, hoping that the sincere look on his face conveys the affection he harbours for her.

“Just you.”

She mumbles something incoherent under her breath, he thinks he heard the word “flirt” in there but he’s not so sure, but her shy smile remains.

Connecting their eyes once more, she lifts the flowers in her hands and thanks him again, slowly backing out of the shop and Harry, as usual, finds himself not liking the growing distance between them.

A plea for her to stay a little longer is just on the tip of his tongue, but he holds back because he knows he can’t do that, can’t ask her to stay when she dedicates this time to visit her mother.

Next time, he tells himself. Maybe she’ll stop by the shop during the week, and then he could ask her to stay behind for a few minutes and chat.

“Bye, Harry,” she flashes him a sweet grin, turning to say goodbye to his daughter, who he knows she adores, before leaving.

Harry can’t help but think of the Elton John song that’s playing, the lyric “Don’t go breaking my heart” echoing in his mind as he watched her wave to Lily one last time before stepping out of the shop, shooting him a tiny small before disappearing into the street.

Please don’t go breaking my heart.

Daisy doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to dating.

The first date she’d ever been on was a complete disaster. Her date, who was one of her classmates whom she happened to have quite the big crush on, was half an hour late (she almost gave up) and once they arrived at the little café, he accidentally smacked her on the head with the rotating door. As if a bruised forehead wasn’t enough, as soon as their drinks arrived, she somehow managed to spill hers all over her baby blue dress, ruining the dress beyond repair.

And on top of that, as the date went on and the two young students chatted, she realised that she didn’t like this boy at all.

Suffice to say, she was not happy when she arrived back home that night.

The second date she went on was just as bad, if not worse. This one was set up by her own parents, which should’ve rang alarm bells in her mind but she was so excited at the prospect of going on a date that she didn’t think about it. She was just about to go off to uni and this guy was a year older and all he would talk about was his amazing achievements and the plans he had for his future businesses (he was studying business, go figure).

She left the date halfway through, having texted her best friend, Jane, to fake an emergency.

Luck seemed to be on her side when she was at university. In her International Law lecture, she met who would become her first boyfriend, Lucas, with whom she had her first and only serious relationship.

Lucas was nice; he was polite, always brought her snacks between classes and played with her hair as they cuddled on her bed, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

But Lucas was also a cheater.

Therefore, Daisy had practically sworn off men and decided to just focus on her career and not pursue any romantic endeavours for the foreseeable future.

Her resolve has been crumbling quite significantly since she’s met Harry, though.

Daisy has met a few guys here and there over the years, and she’s not going to lie, she was drawn to some of them but didn’t dare initiate anything or let them think they had a chance.

But Harry has her mind messed up. Tragically so.

On one hand, he is so lovely, the kindest soul she’s ever met. Her nana used to tell her that there are some people who just radiate goodness and you can instantly sense it when you meet them, and even though she hasn’t spent that much time with Harry (much to her chagrin), she knows that he’s one of those people.

He’s just good.

On the other hand, however, he’s her student’s teacher, which could very well complicate things. And there’s a child involved, so what if things went sour between them? She’d never want to hurt Lily.

And who says Harry even likes her that way? She could tell that he’s a bit of a flirt, if their past interactions were any indication, but that doesn’t mean he has any feelings for her.

She knows that he’s not seeing anyone, but that doesn’t mean he wants to date her.

Besides, she has no idea if it’s even allowed. Or rather had no idea, because what inspired her mental walk down memory lane is the fact that she went and asked if there were any school regulations against her dating one of the parents, and surprisingly there isn’t.

It’s not prohibited, but she’s been told that it’s okay as long as it doesn’t affect her work or things at school.

So now she had a dilemma. Does she make a move and ask Harry out on a date, or should she try to forget all about him and just move on?

(The second option sounded almost impossible to her.)

It also doesn’t help that Valentine’s Day is quickly approaching and everywhere she goes she is going to be met with roses and pink and red hearts and whatnot.

And for once, Daisy doesn’t want to be alone on the cliché and overly commercialised day.

“What should I do, Cam?” She sighed, turning to face her friend. Camila’s class was out in the playground with another teacher so she’s in Daisy’s classroom to catch up a bit and she’s grateful for her company because it’s the only thing keeping her sane at the moment.

Damn Harry and his beautiful smile.

Camila pondered over her response for a moment before shooting her a serious look, “I can’t tell you what to do, babe, but I also don’t want you to be lonely on valentine’s, so maybe you should just go for it?” She then shrugged her shoulders, “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could reject me, Cam!” Daisy’s eyes were wide, appalled at her best friend’s nonchalance. Harry could outright reject her and she’ll be forever embarrassed! How could she ever show her face at work again? She’ll have to quit and move to another city!

Camila just chuckled and shook her head at her friend, “Highly unlikely, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Daisy, all of the mums are jealous of the way he seems to smile a lot with you.” Then she leans in closer, lowering her voice to avoid being heard by any little ears, “And quite frankly, some of the bitchy teachers, too, like Talia.”

She scoffed, not believing a word Camila said. “That can’t be true.”

“Fine then, spend the rest of your life alone.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed Camila’s arm in jest. “Thanks, that was very helpful, Cam, I feel much better.”

Her friend flashed her a grin and shrugged her shoulders again, “What are friends for?”

“Piss off.”

A little gasp was heard from nearby and she turned to find one of her boys, Nicholas, looking at her with wide eyes. “Miss Daisy, that wasn’t nice!”

How lovely.

***

Daisy usually loved flowers, maybe not as much as her mother once did, but she adored them nonetheless.

But she swore she would combust if she saw another red rose in sight.

With only a couple of days left till the dreaded February 14th, the colour red was everywhere and quite frankly, Daisy was sick of it.

She had come to terms with the fact that she doesn’t have the courage to ask Harry out in fear of being rejected or making things awkward between them. She likes the little moments they share when he drops off and picks up Lily as well as when she goes into his shop on the way to visit her mother.

It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.

Walking into her classroom, Daisy's mood brightened a little at the prospect of seeing Harry and Lily very soon, that is until her eyes fell on the calendar and she realised it was Friday, meaning that neither Styles would make an appearance (she only sees Lily from Monday to Thursday).

Her mood plummets again.

Thankfully, the presence of her other kids takes her mind off things for the time being. She really does enjoy teaching them and interacting with them; she finds it a privilege that she gets to watch them grow and contribute to their development.

After Asher leaves with his mother, Daisy is left alone in her classroom to her own devices. Putting on one of her favourite playlists, she starts to go around the room and tidy it up, that way when she comes to work on Monday it’ll be clean and organised.

Lost in the soulful voice of Etta James, she doesn’t notice the man nervously approaching her door, clutching a bouquet in his clammy hand.

A knock startled her and she almost tripped over a small chair. She hears a loud “Shit” and in a second he is standing in front of her, one of his hands hovering over her arm. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She looks up at him in shock. Harry wasn’t supposed to be here today, what could he possibly want-

“Oh my God is Lily okay?” Her eyes are wide with worry over the sweet girl, mind racing at the possibilities.

“What?” She’s met with a perplexed expression and a chuckle. Who on earth looks this cute with a scrunched up face? “Lily’s fine, why would you think something’s wrong?”

She shakes her head and responds, confused as to why he was here (not that she was complaining or anything). “Then what brings you here today…” Daisy trails off upon spotting the beautiful arrangement of flowers grasped tightly in his right hand.

Are those daisies?

Harry’s back straightens and he clears his throat, as if suddenly remembering the reason why he showed up at his daughter’s class today when she wasn’t at school.

“I, uhm,” he stutters, his green eyes seemingly wide with panic for some reason she is yet to understand. “You see… I…”

She can’t help but chuckle. He looked adorable with crimson cheeks and tousled hair that she not so secretly wanted to run her fingers through. “What is it, Harry?”

He cleared his throat again and ran a hand through his curls, looking her in the eyes once more. “I was, uh, wondering if you’re free this Sunday?”

It took her a couple of seconds until realisation dawned upon her and her eyes widened, processing his words. Harry was standing right in front of her asking her if she was free on Valentine’s Day.

A few moments passed and the expectant yet slightly terrified look on Harry’s face made her realised that she hasn’t said anything yet so she quickly responds, taking a step closer towards him. “Yes!” She mentally scolds herself for sounding crazy and way too eager, so she clears her throat and tries again, “I mean yes, I’m free, why do you ask?”

Somehow, his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red and he holds up the bouquet in front of her, “I was hoping you’d be my valentine maybe? If that’s something you would like?”

Daisy hoped to God that she isn’t dreaming, otherwise she would be extremely fucking pissed when she wakes up.

She eagerly nodded her head, lips stretching into a wide smile, fingers etching to reach out and touch him. “I’d love that.”

“Really?” He perks up, like he wasn’t sure she would agree to his proposition.

How could he ever think she wouldn’t say yes in a heartbeat? Perhaps Daisy has been a little too subtle.

Seeming to remember the flowers in his hand, he gestures to them with a smile, “Thought I’d get you daisies instead of typical red roses, wanted it to be special.”

Daisy doesn’t think she’d be able to hold herself back from kissing him if he says another word.

How is this man real? He got her an arrangement of colourful daisies, for crying out loud!

Her fingers brush against his when she reaches out to grab the delicate flowers and she blushes at the touch. “Thank you, Harry, that’s so sweet of you, I love them.”

He just smiles bashfully in response.

Excited about their upcoming date, Daisy can’t help but ask about what he had planned for the two of them.

“Oh, uhm…” Harry fumbles his words, nervously fidgeting with his fingers and Daisy’s heart beats violently in her chest. Everything this man does is so endearing to her for some reason. “I actually haven’t planned anything yet, wasn’t too sure you would agree in the first place.”

Automatically, her eyes roll and she can’t stop herself from saying “I thought it was obvious that I fancied you, everyone at least says so.”

Harry’s eyes widen yet again and he seems to be at a loss for words, and Daisy decided she would just take charge of this. “Tell you what, how about you come to my flat and we could cook dinner together? Is that okay?”

His dimpled smile makes her heart beat faster and she hopes she doesn’t pass out. God, you sound like a lovesick teenager, she mentally scolds herself. “That sounds great.”

“That settles it then,” she sighs in content, brushing a piece of hair that was bugging her behind her ear, Harry’s eyes trailing her movements. “Dinner at my flat on Sunday.”

Harry nods again, eyes shining brightly in the afternoon light (Daisy has never been more in love with green eyes). “Can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

The two stare at each other fondly, standing like a couple of fools in the middle of a room surrounded by many toys, and Daisy is certain that her right foot is standing on a squeaky duck toy.

But none of that mattered in that moment.

And Daisy finds it just a little ironic that Etta James’ At Last is playing in the background.

“Now be good for your Nana and share your toys with your cousins, okay?” Harry kneels down in front of Lily, who vigorously nods her head in understanding, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for school, yeah?”

Lily quickly looks over her shoulder upon hearing the loud shrieks and giggles back in the house, no doubt coming from his nieces. “See you, Daddy, miss you! Can I play now?”

He shakes his head laughing before he extends his arms, “Can I get a big hug first?”

Lily may be small, but she has a lot of energy in her and thankfully Harry is used to it and braces himself as she throws herself towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, my little flower.” He presses a kiss to her head before telling her to go play and she doesn’t hesitate to run inside. “Be careful!”

His mother waves him off, “Don’t worry about her, you just go on with your date and I’ll take good care of her, as usual,” she particularly stresses the last bit, making him laugh as he stands back up. (He winces slightly at the pain shooting in his back. He really does have the body of an old man.)

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Daisy, I’m so excited.” Anne claps her hands, grinning at him, and he soon feels her soft motherly touch on his face as she holds it in her hands.

He rolls his eyes at her antics but he feels the blush blooming in his cheeks, “Mother, please.”

He’s already on edge as it is, his veins buzzing with both nerves and excitement. The idea of finally going on a proper date with someone he actually really likes is one that has his mind reeling in a way it hasn’t in such a long time and he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

However, he doesn’t miss his mother’s usual teasing comments. Anne means well, but Harry just wants to leave and get into his car as fast as he can. The quicker he departs, the sooner he can enjoy Daisy’s company.

(He’s also just a little bit famished.)

His mother scoffs, “What? I’m allowed to be excited about my son meeting up with a wonderful woman-“

Harry steps back, laughing at the offended look on his mother’s face, “I’m gonna go now. Bye, mum.”

“Have fun!” He hears her yell as he’s pulling the car from the driveway.

Harry has no doubt she will interrogate him the next day when he picks up Lily.

***

The door is not all that interesting, it’s just a regular one that looks almost identical to his own flat’s front door, but Harry spends the next few moments after knocking staring at the wood, impatiently waiting to finally see her face.

He was worried that she would hear just how loudly his heart was beating in its cage. His hands were also quite clammy already, which he was seriously annoyed about because what if she feels disgusted when she touches his hand? He can’t have that!

What if the tupperware of cookies accidentally slips from his hand? And he thinks his sweaty palm is ruining the bouquet of flowers and oh my God this is a disaster already-

The door opens and suddenly all Harry can register is her smile.

“Harry, come on in!” All he does is flash her a smile back, following her into her flat and toeing off his shoes.

She turns to him, cheeks rosy as she takes in his appearance. Harry put on his favourite maroon sweater and a pair of black jeans, a grey winter coat completing the look. He’s also sporting his usual rings; he loves wearing them, but he’d be lying if he said that he’d worn them for any reason other than the fact that she seemed to like them (he’s seen her stare at his hands more than once, so he thinks she’s into it).

Also, he paid extra attention to his hair, he likes his curls and apparently women do, too.

“I’m glad you made it.”

He was breathing in the scent of cinnamon and sugar in the air when her words stopped in his tracks in panic. “What, did you think I’d bail?” Did he not seem serious about their date?

“What? No no no!” Daisy immediately reaches her hands out before dropping them and wrapping her arms around herself. “I just meant that I’m happy you’re here.”

Embarrassed at himself, Harry looks down at his socked feet and hopes that his voice doesn’t betray him when he responds, “I’m happy to be here.”

Why must he always be so awkward?

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at himself, he gestures towards the items in his hands. “These are for you,” he extends the flowers to her, smiling at the way she always sniffs them before thanking him. He raises his other hand, pointing at the tupperware “And these are some cookies Lily and I made yesterday, heart-shaped and all.”

Putting a hand against her heart, Daisy shakes her head and he swears her smile could light up the darkest of rooms. “Thank you, Harry, you didn’t have to.”

“Sure, I did,” he widened his eyes to emphasise his point, “can’t spend Valentine’s Day without eating a heart-shaped something.”

“Is that so?” She plays along, moving to place the flowers (jasmines this time) in a vase. He follows her to the kitchen, eyes catching a bunch of framed pictures along the wall, a huge bookshelf in the living room, and one of those cat towers (it was pink like the one at his mother’s house).

Just from what he’s seen, her flat seems very cosy and makes anyone coming in feel like they’re at home. Or maybe that’s just her welcoming aura. Either way, Harry is glad she suggested they have the date at her place.

Her cream cardigan moves as she does, one of the shoulders slipping slightly to reveal the red and white polkadot dress underneath. Her attire is simple yet he thinks she’s never looked more beautiful.

Harry’s mother raised him right and he is a respectful person (and he believes everyone should be, it’s basic human decency), but he can hardly control his eyes as they move along the curve of her shoulder, across her décolletage, drawing a path all the way to the centre of her chest where a pendant rests.

Remember, you respect women’s bodies and staring is rude, stop it!, he mentally scolds himself, eyes quickly shifting to admire her hair instead. Usually, she has her hair up in a ponytail or in a low bun, but tonight it’s down and cascades over her shoulders in soft curls.

Harry still stands by what he constantly tells his daughter, that his Lily is the prettiest flower, but he would be lying if he said Daisy wasn’t a very strong contender.

(He wouldn’t tell Lily that, though. He’ll keep that thought just to himself for the time being.)

But he can’t just not let her know what he’s thinking. “You’re very beautiful, Daisy.”

The woman instantly looks up, meeting his eyes, and even the dim kitchen lights can’t hide the blooming blush on her cheeks. If she’s going to look that pretty blushing, Harry has no option but to compliment her any chance he gets just to witness the sight.

Daisy might just be the most beautiful person he’s ever known, and he’s not going to stop reminding her of that.

Her response comes a few beats late, “You look quite lovely yourself.”

Nothing worth mentioning next to you, he thinks to himself but he doesn’t say it out loud.

His eyes follow her as she moves around the kitchen island, stopping right in front of him. A light touch grazes his hand before warm fingers wrap around his own and it takes him a couple of seconds to register that she’s holding his hand in hers.

Pretty eyes gaze up at him under the kitchen lights, sparkling with a hint of challenge he thinks. “Ready to start cooking?”

Yeah, maybe Harry shouldn’t have told her about that time he burnt a whole roast dinner. But he’s gotten much better in the kitchen (he thinks).

Hopefully he doesn’t embarrass himself tonight; he would be utterly horrified if he was the reason her kitchen burned down.

Please don’t burn anything. “Let’s do it, chef, lead the way.”

She bites her lip to hold back a smile (for what reason, he doesn’t know) and pulls him behind her.

Harry might sound crazy, but he thinks he’d follow her just about anywhere.

***

Harry’s having a great time.

Much of the time they spent cooking involved singing and dancing along to her playlist, the kitchen utensils acting as microphones as they belted out ABBA lyrics (luckily no one was accidentally stabbed). At one point, Harry grabbed her hands and they danced around like idiots on the kitchen floor to the sound of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now.

As sad as it may sound, Harry doesn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun with someone other than his family or his best friend.

More laughter and stories are shared over drinks and plates of delicious dinner. Turns out Harry can be great in the kitchen if he’s just under the right command. (His mother usually kicks him out of the kitchen when she’s fed up, but thankfully Daisy seems much more patient and he thinks it’s because she works with children.)

“Last year a kid projectile vomited all over me and it was blue for some reason. I’ve never seen blue puke before, I’ll never forget that.”

“You know, one time instead of ordering 100 roses last year for valentine’s, I accidentally ordered 1000 and they couldn’t fit in the shop. Had to give away so many of them out on the streets and this old woman thought I was flirting or something and she hit me with her gloves.”

“When I was a kid, my parents almost forgot me on the way to the airport, and I’m their only child! It was almost a Home Alone situation.”

“Lily once told me that she wishes she could see a real dinosaur so she could feed them. I’m not sure she knows what exactly dinosaurs eat.”

Now they sat in comfortable silence as they devoured the cookies he and Lily made. Harry caught the soft look in her eyes when she spotted the cookies that were clearly decorated by his daughter, the wobbly lines and extra sprinkles being dead giveaways, and his heart fluttered for the umpteenth time.

Daisy is the first to speak. She tapped her glass, eyeing him with hesitation and he already knows what’s coming. “Can I ask you something personal? You can choose not to answer, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He nods in understanding, appreciating that she’s giving him an out. “You want to know what happened to Lily’s mother.”

Guilt was written all over her face. “Some people like to talk around the school, but I don’t pay any mind to them, so I don’t really know anything.”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath, as if to gather his strength, before launching into his and Lily’s backstory. He doesn’t believe she’s overstepping (he can tell she thinks she is), if anything he’s grateful she chose to ask him directly rather than listen to some gossip from people that don’t know the first thing about him. “I fell in love when I was in university and we got married right after we graduated.”

“We hadn’t planned on having any kids until after a few years,” the corner of his lips tugged up in a half smile at the memory of when he found out he was going to be a father; it’s one of the best days of his life. “But then Eileen told me she was pregnant and that’s when it started going downhill I guess.”

He could feel the all too familiar twist in his heart as he revisited the memories that should only carry happiness and excitement regarding his first baby, but instead they were slightly tainted by pain and heartache. “She, uh, I could tell she wasn’t as excited as I was about the baby, but I chalked it up to nerves and anxiety because we were still pretty young.”

“Hey,” he felt Daisy’s light touch on his forehead, easing the furrowing lines with a tenderness Harry hasn’t experienced in a long time, “you don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.” Her pretty eyes held nothing but kindness and understanding in them; the warm kitchen lights above them made it as though she was glowing as she gave him her undivided attention.

Harry wanted to bask in her warmth for as long as she would let him.

He shook his head in response, his hand reaching out for one of her own to caress the soft skin, “You deserve to know the story, especially if this becomes serious between us.” And Harry has a strong feeling that whatever this thing was between them won’t end anytime soon.

Her encouraging smile is enough for him to continue. “We had Lily and just before she was two months old, I woke up to her loud cries and I couldn’t find Eileen. After she calmed down, I found a long letter on the bed explaining that she never wanted to be a mother and she can’t live like this anymore,” his throat started closing up, tears blurring his vision, but he didn’t stop. “Said she doesn’t want to share her life with me anymore.”

I thought this is what I wanted, what I could want, but it isn’t. I’m sorry.

Harry never saw her again, not even when they were finalising their divorce, everything was strictly handled through their lawyers.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, but I’m sorry, no one deserves to go through that,” her hand squeezes his own and the soft caress of her thumb calms him down. He misses the array of emotions flickering in her eyes, looking down at their intertwined hands. “Thank you for telling me.”

“If it’s any consolation,” she adds, lips stretching into a smile once more, “Lily is a great kid, you’ve done a wonderful job raising her.”

His lips lift up at the mention of his daughter. “You know, she’s the reason I finally had the guts to ask you out.”

Her face twists in confusion.

“Apparently she heard you saying that you’re gonna be lonely on Valentine’s Day and she was upset about it,” her lips pout and she breathes out a small awe.

“Guess that was the push I needed.” Suddenly feeling emboldened, he reaches a hand out to wipe the corner of her lips, catching a stray cookie crumb. His touch lingers for a beat before he pulls his hand back, resting it against the back of her chair instead.

Harry loves the sight of her rosy cheeks.

“Oh,” he lets out a little laugh, remembering another moment with Lily and leans forward again, “she once asked me if I liked you like my sister Gemma likes her husband.”

Daisy throws her head back, laughing in delight, “kids are so much smarter than people give them credit for.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Harry scoffs, grabbing another heart-shaped cookie from the plate, “that girl may be almost 5 but she already knows too much.”

“Lily is quite bright,” she agreed, mimicking his movements and grabbing a cookie herself, “you know I heard her saying the word “investment” a couple of weeks ago? How does she even know that?”

Of course. He rolls his eyes. “My best mate Niall is around a lot and all he talks about is business and golf, so I’m not surprised she’s picked up a few words.”

Lily needs to stop hanging out with Niall this much, he doesn’t want his daughter sounding like a financial adviser at the age of 5.

“Gosh I adore that child.”

His heart jumps in his chest and he wonders where on earth this woman had been hiding. In the past, he rarely got the chance to talk about Lily with his dates. They would either talk about themselves or ask him about himself, what he likes, and his hobbies. Most of his life, if not all of it, revolves around Lily and so his answers almost always involve her somehow, and apparently that isn’t very appealing to the majority of women.

But then here is this beautiful, intelligent, and kind-hearted woman complimenting his child and saying she adores her, not in the least annoyed about Lily being mentioned.

How could his heart ever stand a chance?

If they were characters in a cartoon, Harry is confident that he would have literal heart-eyes in that instant and some lovey dovey song would be playing in the background (to be fair, Billie Holiday’s All of Me was softly playing through the speaker system, so it’s kind of fitting).

They say that eyes are windows to the soul, and if anyone took a close look at his, they’d no doubt find nothing but deep affection for the woman sitting before him.

Harry is in big trouble.

Surprisingly, though, he finds that he is okay with that.

A few moments of silence pass by, the pair staring at each other with tender eyes and shy smiles. His eyes trace the soft laugh lines on her face, trailing to the gentle slope of her nose and stopping at her cupid’s bow, taking in the way her tongue glides over her bottom lip. Oh what he would give to taste her-

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes Harry a second to realise that Daisy is the one that spoke and not him, and his brain immediately short-circuits.

Luckily, his body seemed to function, his hands cupping her face and he revels in the feeling of her. “Was gonna ask you first.” He manages to say, all while pulling her closer.

Her eyelashes flutter against the top of her cheeks, but he doesn’t miss the teasing glint in her eyes. “You snooze, you lose, I guess,” she whispered, lips so close he could almost taste her shea butter lip balm; he knows for a fact that’s the flavour she uses, he’s seen her apply the familiar tube numerous times.

He lets out a breathy chuckle at her words, tugging her just a touch closer, as if almost teasing the both of them, “Don’t think I’m losing here, love.”

He takes another glance at her mouth, giving her the chance to pull away if she wants to, before finally pushing forward and meeting her lips with his own.

Daisy sighs into his mouth, or perhaps lets out a moan (Harry’s not certain because his brain is no longer functioning), almost in relief at the touch, and Harry feels it, too. Finally, after all these months and all the shared little moments and shy gazes, they connected.

And Harry reckons she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

After the divorce, Harry didn’t think he’d ever feel this way about someone else again. His walls were so high up that no one could possibly get through, but she somehow managed to slowly and gently sneak her way into his heart and make a home in one of its chambers.

He finds himself craving her presence, even though they haven’t spent more than five minutes around one another since they’d first met, but that just made him yearn to be around her even more somehow.

Maybe some wishes do come true.

All too soon Daisy starts to pull back, his lips chasing hers even though his lungs have started to burn from the lack of oxygen. She just chuckles and pecks his lips twice before sitting back up, her hands still tangled in his hair.

“Hope that was okay, I’m a little rusty.”

His right foot hooks around the stool she was sat on, pulling it closer. Now that he’s finally gotten this close, he doesn’t plan on staying too far from her if he can help it. He can feel her fingers playing with the hairs in the nape of his neck and the touch is so relaxing he almost leans back into it, but he chooses not to so he could still be within her lips’ reach.

“That was more than okay,” her lips then meet his once again in short pecks, their smiles growing with each peck until the two are grinning like fools.

With her forehead resting against his, Daisy speaks into the now quiet kitchen, her eyes glowing with so much sincerity that Harry knows her words are genuine, “I know this is only our first date and I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I want you to know that I’m in this for the long run. I adore Lily,” a peck on his lips, “and I adore you.”

For a second he feels his eyes watering. All his life he just wanted to love someone and be loved, and he had thought that he did have that for some time, but he knows this is different. She’s different.

He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he just does.

And he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, he’s still being a little cautious, but he can see them becoming much closer, love growing between them and healing the broken pieces of his heart, replacing the ache with affection until he forgets why it hurt in the first place.

Much like flowers, love requires tender care and nurturing; you can’t rush it, and without proper care, it won’t reach its full bloom.

And how lucky is Harry to have not only one flower in his life, but two?

He can see himself sitting on his grey couch cuddling his flowers, each tucked under one of his arms, and everything seems to fall into place.

Yeah, Harry’s in this for the long run, too.

Hope you enjoyed reading When Flowers Bloom just as much as I loved writing it. Don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback, it means the world to me, and don’t hesitate to come talk to me about Harry and Daisy in my inbox! And happy Valentine’s Day!

You can also check out my other writings in my masterlist!

Till next time, Nora

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles writings #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff

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whorror-barbie · 2 years

Text

Service (Salesman x Fem! maid Reader) part 1

Summary: salesman calls the maid service for some help, sure if that's what you wanna call it.

Mini series warnings: hair pulling, name calling, bondage, degrading, humiliation, possibly blackmail, master/pet dynamic, bimbofication, oral sex(both giving and receiving), unprotected sex, rough hate vaginal sex or dominant soft vaginal sex (not sure yet..maybe a mixture of both) BDSM elements, a sadist salesman.I'll put more warning as I see fit. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, AND IF ANY OF THE WARNINGS TRIGGERS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER.

A/n: this one is a long one as always, I still have no idea what I'm doing or the direction it was going when I started writing this lol.

P.s.: I think I spelled the name of the wines wrong oh well, y'all know what meant lol.

The sun is setting as you arrive at a beautiful huge contemporary-style home. You check yourself out in the mirror to make sure your cleavage is showing in your all-black modest maid outfit that course you had to make slutty, bouncing your boobs playfully which made you giggle to yourself. You're the new girl that works for this luxurious maid company. Cleaning the most beautiful homes ever and providing extra "services" to the men that requested it. Hey, it's what's in your job description. Though you've only have given out hand jobs and BJs to some of the handsome clients, but not full-blown sex with any of them..yet anyways. You are a fan favorite amongst the other maids which you wonder why. You're pretty fucking clumsy and ditzy. maybe it's your personality? Trying not to think about it too hard, you finally get out of the nice company car.

You make your way to the sidewalk while carrying the cleaning supplies in your bag. Hearing just the clicking of your heels echo as you take in the scenery, the grass is so green and not a weed in sight, just such a breathtaking sight. you ring the door awaiting the person on the other side. He asked for you and only you which is interesting, but you are a pretty popular request after all. also He goes by the name salesman, maybe it's a codename? Who knows, you disregard it though as it's none of your business. He finally opens the door, a tall and very handsome man with a suit answers, staring back at you "hello, sir I'm at your service for today" you say in a cheerful tone with a smile. His eyes wander to your cleavage then to your face " Hello, ma'am, welcome" returning a smile, holding his arm out to lead the way. You happily walk in as he shuts the door behind both of you, little do you know he's looking at you like helpless prey.

"oh what a beautiful home, sir" looking around in awe. pretty simple black and white decor which makes it look more expensive for some reason, the style is pretty minimalistic. "thanks" he says simply " do you want some water or perhaps a glass of wine before you start cleaning? " he offered. " Oh, I'll take some wine, please " looking at him with doe eyes as he clears his throat then walks past you to his kitchen and you follow him like a lost puppy. He wants to treat you horribly, but right now he's trying to be a gentleman first. "I have a wine cellar, but I'll just offer what's in my refrigerator for now" he continues " do you want some chateau Lafite or Domaine Leflaive?" You look so confused, playing with your hair "huh?" He sighs " red or white wine?" Losing a little bit of patience with you. " Oh!, I'll take red wine please" in your ditzy tone. You take a seat in the chair and leaning your upper body on the white marble kitchen island.

He takes two tall big glasses out from the cabinet, placing them on the table. As he's pouring, he smirks at you which made you look at him with innocent eyes, you have no idea what he's thinking, handing you the full glass "Thank you" sipping on it and letting out a soft moan. " Wow, this is really good" you smile. The salesman takes a long sip, staring at you with hungry eyes. " So, are you new to the whole being a maid?" Trying to make small talk with you "why yes, I am!" You say in a cheerful manner" I have been doing this for couple of weeks now " you giggle shyly then continue " I do my best, but I have to wonder...why did you pick me, sir? I get mixed reviews from most of my clients." Feeling a bit sad, and he notices "you seem like a hard-working woman, and to be in high demand in only a couple of weeks? you must being doing something right,Hun. you should be proud of yourself" your face lights up as he give you a sincere look "really?" he smiles, nodding at you "I seen how popular you are when I checked out this service for the first time" you look at him with curiosity" what made you want to hire a maid?" He chuckles "well,I heard there were some extra perks to go along with it, I need to relieve some stress" he takes a sip, leaning his back against the kitchen counter behind him." Oh I see" you smiling innocently, it just goes over head. "reading some of the reviews and your info, you seem open to some fun" giving you a creepy smile that he only could get away with

"huh? Fun? Like playing game? Oh! I love playing games, sir" you smile brightly. He doesn't respond,just stares at you while sipping his wine which causes you to feel the heat in your face. You move a little bit, unfortunately, your hand knocks over the red wine and it gets all over your chest then on your clothes leading down to the white floor "oh, no!" you start to panic. It's good that the wine glass is in your lap though, it could of shattered everywhere, how convenient. this makes the salesman rubs his forehead in frustration, he's getting very angry inside "oh I'm so sorry, sir.. good thing I'm a maid "you joke as he glares a hole in you. feeling a knot in your throat, if looks could kill. "Can I use your washer pretty please?" giving him puppy eyes, then he sighs "sure, I'll show you where it is " you follow him.

Reaching the spacious laundry area upstairs, even this looks expensive, " I really appreciate it, sir" you start to strip in front of him. he looks away. doing his best to hold back his urges, you are really pushing it with him, not really meaning to. "I'll get you a shirt, ok " as he leaves the room. You stand there awkwardly as you wait, the salesman returns "here", handing you one of his white t-shirts staring at your very revealing lingerie, then pinching the bridge of his nose to look away again, he's getting really annoyed with you "Thank you" you say cheerfully as you put it on, it's barely covering your ass, it's a bit short, but it will do. " I should start doing my job now, " You say through a giggle " I need my- " he hands you the bag "oh" you awkwardly laugh, he's going to say something, though it was Interrupted by his phone ringing his pocket " I'll leave you to it then" exiting the room, taking the call.

It's been 20 minutes in of you cleaning his bedroom and bathroom. He's a pretty clean and organized guy already, so this made your job so much easier. now that you are finished you start to wonder around his bedroom more, so you go to his huge closet again, you don't know why you are doing this exactly, though you proceed to do it anyways. You move backwards, looking around when the heel of your feet bumps something. Turning around you see a sliver suitcase, "oh, a shiny suitcase!", looking to see if the salesman is nearby " it doesn't hurt to take a peek I suppose" you get on all fours to open the suitcase.

You discover some interesting stuff inside, some red and blue paper tiles. Picking it up, examining the tiles, confused. " Wow, how did he make these? He must be pretty smart" look back at the suitcase, and you see cards with different shapes on it, flipping it over to see a phone number. "Huh? numbers for what? " Then look back at the case to you see so much cash and your eyes grow big, how did you not see that first? "Oh, wow that's so much money, I could buy a lot cute lingerie" you let out a giggle. "My, my what do we have here?" Hearing the salesman deep voice from behind. He's standing tall near his closet entrance, getting a good view of your ass, how long was he there for? You jump out of your skin and shutting the briefcase so fast.

"where's your fucking manners, darling? Do you just go through people stuff? " He starts to walk towards you. You are nodding no. well, you do sometimes, but there's no harm in it at least that's what you think. using your doe eyes again so he won't get too mad. "you're not stealing anything by any chance? Hm?" he raises his eyebrow. "Oh no, no, no sir... I would never, I was just curious" looking down at your thighs, He bends to reach for the suitcase behind you. "You can't you use your cute face to fool me like you do other men, sweetheart" you look up at him "I'm serious, please believe me I would never steal, I swear." You sound desperate which made the salesman readjust himself, he closes his eyes for second then opens them with a sigh. "First, you spill the wine all over my floor, which I cleaned up by the way" giving you a stern tone, you feel ashamed " second, you look through my things, and possibly stole from me? I don't know sweetheart, but you got a lot of nerve" he is starting to get really angry with you. It's becoming a pattern with you today. "Perhaps I should call the cop on a you, although a pretty little thing like yourself wouldn't last a second in a jail cell" he laughs, staring at your helpless form.

"Wait, don't " you stand up quickly, you lift your shirt " you can pat me down and check for yourself." He smirks, checking you out as if you were an impressive piece of artwork in a gallery " mmmm ok I believe you, doll " putting your shirt down. you feel yourself getting wet, he's the most attractive client you've had so far. "We can play a little game to make up for it still" and you start to smile "oh! What's the game, sir?" Waiting for his answer " have you ever played Ddakji before?" You get confused "no, but I have heard of it before I think " in a cheerful tone. "The rules are simple even a dumb whore like yourself will get it " the name calling throws you off, but it goes straight to your pussy as you feel your face getting hot.

" Mmm you like that, don't you? You're so pathetic" In his mocking tone, you look up surprised "yeah..master I mean sir I-" covering your mouth in shock. he lets out a scoff " master, huh? I can be that for you...what a kinky slut you are", you wanted to flee away from embarrassment.so deep in thought, you realize the salesman is in your space now. In fact, He's so close, you able to smell his expensive cologne and the wine under his breath, you want to kiss him badly" let's play this little game shall,we? He continues "if you lose, you pay with your body." getting confused, the gears slowly turning in your head "pay with my body? How do I do that? " You give him innocent eyes. " By you letting me do whatever I please to you, using you for my pleasure only." he whispers in your ear, sending chills up and down your body. "What if I want that too....master? " Whispering back at him, your body temperature is skyrocketing right now.

" fuck" he lets out a small grunt, not excepting you to say that. He goes in for a kiss as you accept it as he pushes you against one of the walls in the closet. he picks up the pace a little bit now, a hand wrapped around your neck. this is the most gentle, yet possessive make out session you even had. moaning while his tongue fits great in your mouth, tasting the red wine from earlier. you could cum from the kissing alone. His hand in your panties, rubbing your clit in a gentle circular motion with his thumb "My body is all yours, master... I'm at your service" you say in his ears moaning, He so painfully hard right now. Looking at you with so much anger it makes you freeze up; did you say something wrong? "You have no idea what you're in for, I'm going fuck you like you're nothing to me, can you handle that, whore?" You moan as he's still play with your clit "mmm please do" and with that, he does a complete stop, then grabbing you by the hair and you moan out in reaction as the two of exit the closet.

Now in the bedroom, He toss you so hard on the bed as he's gets on top of you, starts to grope your body violently " oh my, bad mean master!" You say in a desperate moan. "Oh, shut up!" He grabs you by the neck once again as he's clenching his jaw. you are struggling to breathe a little, but it was manageable, you love every minute of this. He's about to rip your lingerie apart when all of sudden his phone goes off in his pocket. Sighing in frustration, he lets go of you to see who it is "I have to take this call, why don't you be a gem and actually do your fucking job" he gets up from the bed " by the way, come up with some safe words, you going to need them tonight" he gives you an evil smirk then walks out of the room, taking the call. You sit up, confused and aroused. what just happened? This is going to be a long fun night.

#salesman x reader #salesman x y/n #the salesman #salesman imagine #gong yoo #squid games fanfic #squid game smut

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

hyacinth. (m)

dialogue prompt #3: “Your tutor is so hot”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: f2l(?), light smut

word count: 1,540

warnings: heavy making out, grinding, blonde!jk

summary: you think your new tutor at school is hot and jungkook is determined to change that

a/n: another mature oneshot. I basically die from embarrassment while writing smut lol.

masterlist

“Your tutor is so hot”. Jungkook turns around to your attention so fast he could probably snap his neck.

“Mr. Seokjin? ”, he knows who you are talking about. The new personality development tutor of your school, more like the entire population’s crush at this point. And Jungkook hated him just for the same reasons, it seems petty but he can't help himself.

“Go fuck him then”, he snorts, swinging his back pack from one shoulder to another while you grin. Almost as on queue, Seokjin appears on the hallways and passes a smile towards all the students.

“Oh yes. Look at that a--”

“I guess that's enough for today, come on we gonna get late”, he grabs your arms and pushes you forward to move, having enough of your daily ranting about angelic beauty and who the hell laughs at some dad joke?

“When were you ever interested in math Kook?”, you tease him, resisting him to walk slower, “Oh are you perhaps… jealous!? ”

“I'm not jealous. You are annoying”, he shoots cold face.

“Hey! I'm just saying he's attractive you don't have to be so mean about it”, you whine, hitting his arm.

You see, the fact that Seokjin stole Jungkook’s high school heartthrob position in two days is one thing, but he never expected you to act the same, especially when you were so different from most students on the campus. In fact he is shocked to see you crushing on someone. You despised people in general and he kept wondering what's there in their teacher to be so lurk about because he honestly doesn't see anything.

“He's old. And everyone knows he has a girlfriend, you guys dumb or what? ”, Jungkook teases back.

“Doesn't mean I can't praise a beautiful human”

“So he's the only attractive guy in the school? ”, he's curious now and also lowkey wants to find out if you had felt anything like this about himself.

Jungkook knew he was hot. He knew he could destroy Seokjin's reputation with one different hair color but that's too much drama over nothing. As if there isn't ten assignment waiting for him at home. Yeah he got better things to do.

“Nope”, comes your immediate answer. And man that hurt. You are smart and cocky and it would be cool to know someone like you finds him attractive, but you just hurt his ego.

“Not even me? ”, he asks, all squeaky and with a small pout and you return him a smile.

“See you at 7 Kook”

____

School ends at 5, and thankfully both of your residence are nearby and there's a party hosted by Jimin at his house which is a five minute drive so Jungkook has roughly one hour and fourty five minutes to make an appearance to the party. And by appearance he means to look absolutely endearing. He's never the type to bang a lot of chicks, he didn't even need to do anything than to wear a black tee and jeans to a party and could still get laid. If he wanted sex, he can have that any time he wants.

But today is different.

He's never been this eager to be at a gathering, took time to pick outfits and oh dye his hair. He has never experimented with hair colors except that one time he tried red and got famous by the name ‘cherry head’ in the entire locality.

You of course give yourself the usual thirty minutes to do slight makeup and wear shorts with oversized tee styled enough to merge into the party. And boy you have no idea what you are going to witness today.

Jungkook arrives ten minutes late because the highlights took time to dry off. He styles them, but not too much. He still wanted to look effortlessly handsome and got that long abandoned shear black shirt with blue jeans.

“Woah is that Jungkook!?”, some girls whisper beside the bar you are currently seated at and you turn around, only to feel a pang to your chest. Fuck. A completely look through shirt with fucking tight blue denim is he fucking kidding? And blonde hair? Yeah it's that complete ‘drool over me bitches’ package.

You suddenly feel self aware of how simple you looked. He should have given a heads up because one needs several business days to process blonde Jungkook. He seemed unrecognizable.

“Woah… What's up with this new look!?”, you approach finally. Many people eye him shamelessly in your peripheral vision which is pretty much obvious.

“Nothing. Just felt like it”, he grins, having won you. Jungkook is not attractive who? Yeah he bets Seokjin will never pull off this look.

“You like it? ”, and he undoes first two buttons, exposing a bit of his toning straight to your eyes. Is he fucking teasing? You want to confront him because he's acting weird. But you don't know if this is because you feel different around him.

“Y-yeah… It's good”, you tug a smile.

“Wanna dance?”, he asks and you nod, taking your hand to the dance floor. Most people are wasted but both of you are not. So when you feel him touching more than usual, you are absolutely aware that it's not an accident.

He holds you so close all the time, as if it's something you do daily. Fuck.

“Hold me like this”, he says out of nowhere and throws your hand behind his neck. He knows what he's doing. And you are aware too, but too weak in knees to retract. You hate that you are actually enjoying this and he loved it.

“Y/n….”, he whispers to your ear, tucking a strand of your hair behind it, “Can I kiss you love? ”

Your nod is so soft and innocent before you give in. Most people who were looking forward for Jungkook’s company give up and hook up with other guys around because they know he isn't here for anybody else.

He flushes your hips against his as he kisses you, obviously tongue all the way. He doesn't know why but he wanted to shut your mouth exactly like this whenever you swooned over Seokjin. And he is most certain that all those memories are perished along with the kiss.

He pulls your bottom lip out and looks into your eyes and grinds his hip on yours, and you moan lowly. He internally curses at how sweet you sounded.

“Come with me”. He pulls you out of the crowd and into a private cubicle where people usually make out. And thankfully there was one vacant.

But he isn't quick to act once inside the space. He takes his time to lock the door and to sit at that one chair in the centre, manspreading luxuriously for you to see.

You never did anything like this with Jungkook. It was not like you had friend zoned him, you actually don't know why, all these years you spent casually flirting and shrugging off with each other, and now you can't wait to devour him.

You make your way to his lap and sit right on his hips, sighing at the contact. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it towards him. His other hand taps your butt to continue grinding which you happily do so.

He continues exploring your skin, hooking his hands on your shirt and rubbing circles at the skin there. Feeling his cold hands, you move to undo two more of his buttons to get a peak of his pecs, something you wanted to do the moment you saw him.

He moans into your mouth when your movements start to get him worked up, feeling high and ecstatic. Even with the denim shorts on, the dent on his pants was enough to get you close to orgasm.

“J-Jungkook… ”, you trail off, head slightly falling back which he catches.

“Go on love, almost there”. Fuck. You loved it when he called you names, but this one was, exceptionally very much turning you on.

He detaches his mouth to suckle on your collar bone, exposing it by pulling your t shirt slightly down. It becomes all too much, and you focus on the knot forming at your stomach.

Jungkook stops kissing you, indicating he's chasing his high several moments after yours, glad that both opted for thick denims as bottoms to cover the mess you made.

“We should've done this way before”, you imply, separating the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“We could've, but you were busy drooling over some teacher”, he smugs.

“So you were jealous! ”.

Unfortunately his cocky being doesn't have an answer for that so he dodges it with another long kiss, breaking off with a loud smooch.

“God I can kiss you forever Y/n…”

“And...then? ”, you ask your confusion. You don't know what's your relationship with Jungkook is anymore, now that you had made out with him.

“... then… maybe you'll fall in love with me?”

“See you at the party Kook”, you peck the corner of his lips and get off his lap. After taking a moment to fix your outfit, you leave the cubicle.

And Jungkook knew exactly what he was going to do.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptfics

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Renewal

...........this one absolutely kicked my ass today, it took me forever to get anything done lol

also, for the anon that asked for the prompt of rowan dancing with their daughter, i finally got around to it!!

cw: a lil bit of angst, like a tiny bit but otherwise its just fluff

1.1k words

enjoy! :)

It was the perfect spring day, the soft breeze sent the delicate smells of the wild-flowers that grew in Oakwald Forest. With her Fae hearing, Aelin could hear the gentle rushing of the river stream and the happy buzzing of bees.

Aelin spotted the Royal Painter working away, but soon Aelin's eyes found Rowan's as the Priestess stepped forward and began the speech of thanking everyone for coming to Aelin and Rowan's vow renewal after twenty-eight years of marriage—and what a blessed marriage it had been, the young priestess pointing towards their children that sat in the front row, dressed in finery and their hair neatly brushed and styled.

Aelin looked away from Rowan for a brief moment to take in her children. Everyday was a sharp reminder of how they were growing. Elentiya was fifteen now, Norrin was twelve, Alder nine, Isolde six and Elowynn was four and a half (who was considerably distracted by the Little Folk watching from the trees and bushes surrounding them). It still felt like yesterday when she held them all in her arms, falling asleep against her chest as she marvelled at the life that she and Rowan created.

Rowan laced his fingers through hers, bringing Aelin back into the present when she realised that it was time for the handfasting ceremony.

The ribbon was simple braided cotton rope, decorated with charms that the children had picked out months ago. There were personal charms that the King and Queen had picked out hidden among their children's.

When it was time to say the vows, Aelin recited hers in the Old Language, having secretly studied the language for years with her rare free time. She would never forget the unrestrained, glorious smile that Rowan responded with. And even though they weren't supposed to kiss until the priestess said so, her mate rushed forward and kissed her once she was finished. Aelin melted under his touch, nearly thirty years together and he still got her heart racing.

His vows were said in the Old Language, too, and despite their children only a couple feet away, with their loved ones around them, it was like they were the only two souls in the world.

“To whatever end, Fireheart,” Rowan said, his accent stronger when he spoke the Fae language.

“To whatever end.”

X X X X X X X

Perched on Rowan's lap, Aelin watched as her friends circled around the room, talking, eating and dancing when the band started anew.

She had no reason to be sad, but each time she saw her friends, they always looked a little bit older. Chaol's hair was half grey, half brown, his frame thinner, too. Dorian's eyes were wild with crow's feet, the lines more pronounced when he laughed or smiled.

Even Evangeline was grown now, when sometimes Aelin still saw that young girl that helped the Queen win back her kingdom.

She told herself that it was good, in a twisted way—that her friends got to live, and love and help rebuild the world, but one day, they would all leave it behind, as would their children, and their grandchildren when the time came about.

And Aelin didn't want that to happen. Hated that they were not immortal like her and Rowan and Fenrys. Gods, Aelin was fairly certain that she would even miss Lorcan when he died—his pitch black hair showed thin little lines of grey, too.

Rowan ran a hand up and down her bare arm, smoothing away the distress she must have sent down the bond.

Happy things, she was to think of happy things on her wedding day. Like how her mate's eyes darkened when he saw her walking down the aisle, the metallic gold velvet dress hugging her body almost indecently.

She knew that if they were alone, the dress wouldn't have lasted ten seconds without him ripping it off her and having his wicked way with her, right on the forest floor.

Happy things like how the day after tomorrow, they were leaving for Suria for a week and a half to stay in a manor house near the beach. It was just going to be the two of them, alone for the first time in who knew how long, and clothing was completely optional. All the loud, uninterrupted sex they were going to have.

Happy things like how handsome Rowan looked in his dark green and silver embroidered tunic and dark brown pants and polished boots.

Happy things like how her children were all dancing together and laughing and Lysandra dragging Aedion onto the marble floor to dance with her. Chaol and Yrene talking with their grandchildren.

Happy things like the bright smile that Elentiya wore as she made her way over to Aelin and Rowan.

Their eldest looked radiant in a silk dress the shade of purple wisteria. It was rare to see her dressed in such a fashion, because while she did inherit Aelin's admiration of fashion, Elentiya was very much like her father in the regard that she preferred simple and practical clothing and fabrics for day to day life; but today was special and Elentiya had picked out the dress herself, as well as the silver shoes and silver earrings and necklace.

Elentiya sat on Aelin's lap, the Queen's arms going around her daughter and she wiggled her toes in her shoes, telling her parents about the silly things that Dorian was talking about earlier. Mother and daughter picked at Rowan's half eaten chocolate hazelnut cake (nearly thirty years together, and he still didn't like sweets, but tolerate them from time to time. Aelin was determined that she would get him to like the treats at one point in her long life).

All three of them spoke among themselves when suddenly, Elentiya left Aelin's lap and smiled at her father.

“Papa, will you dance with me, please?”

“Of course,” Rowan said and kissed Aelin's cheek as she left his lap. Rowan escorted their eldest onto the floor, her hand tiny compared to his.

Aelin watched, joyful tears soon flooding her eyes as Rowan danced with Elentiya, picking her up and spinning her around, his smile wide as she giggled. They swept across the floor, everyone watching them now as they went through one dance and smoothly moved to another, their footsteps never getting tangled as the orchestra when from one symphony to another. They danced for a lifetime and Aelin would never get sick of the sight, never get over how much she used to hate Rowan but now loved him with every fiber of her being. How he loved their children and would go to hell and back and war again to ensure that they were happy and free.

The happy things were the most important in life, and with her heart near to bursting with love, Aelin crowned her mate and their child with bright crowns of fire and they continued their waltz, their smiles a mirror of the others.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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eutaerpe · 4 years

Text

the escapades (m)

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings— smut (oral, fingering, orgasm denial) & college!au, fratboy!jimin, brief e2l, brief ewb, acr universe

summary — the one where there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension, until there isn’t.

notes — 8.3k words of the happiness before the storm i couldn’t write. i realised halfway through this there’s a slight plotwise change in comparison to what i wrote in acr so. yeah. sorry. kudos to you if you find it lol

The first time it happens, you’re pretending to be someone you’re not.

You’re sitting near the end of the table, crossing your legs and playing with the hem of your dress, your lips twisted into a frown. The real reason lying behind the simple decision of having a single, almost infinite table of guests doesn’t, in the slightest, cross your mind; why your idiotic brother would see this as a delightful idea really is above you, but you suppose the valuable genes in the family runs all in your DNA.

You’re playing with the table decorations while waiting for the guests to come, and it’s so fucking boring you regret telling Seulgi no, babe, what the fuck - you even shook your head and decided to sound extra mad at the idea - I won’t sneak in weed.

Too bad for you, she had answered, a cute pout on her lips, I’ll give you an hour before you’re bored out of your mind.

The truth hangs above your head, with a sheepish grin: you just needed ten minutes to be absolutely, drastically bored.

In hindsight, sneaking in weed wouldn’t have been the worst idea: your mother is talking to the in laws, gesticulating excitedly at the idea of kids right after marriage. What the fuck, you text Seulgi, at home trying to get out of bed, my brother has been married for an hour and there’s already baby talk going on at the table.

Seulgi

[12.49]

With the baby talk comes the dick talk

You

[12.49]

Oh no the dick talk

Seulgi

[12.50]

man how can you survive your relatives talking about nonexistent boyfriends without my weed, damn???

You

[12.50]

option a: I’ll tell them I’m dating you

Seulgi

[12.50]

we kissed ONE time

You

[12.50]

option b: I’ll tell them I’m in a relationship with Jeon jungkook

Seulgi

[12.50]

bitch we both know you’re not in a relationship with the hottest guy on campus. he has dimples and long hair and piercings. my sources can even confirm he has a big dick. what do U Have

You

[12.51]

i was talking about my vibrator but go off lmao

anyway I’ve had that D ;)

Seulgi

[12.51]

you’re officially cancelled

when did this happen? I can’t believe you’re telling me over text!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You

[12.51]

last semester!!!!! why do you think I’ve named my vib after him!!!!!!

Seulgi

[12.52]

because you’re lusting after him like the rest of us mortals!!!!!!!!!!

You

[12.52]

I’ve upgraded since then. I’ve leveled up. I’ve seen things People Can’t Even Imagine

Seulgi

[12.52]

just say he got u off and go

You

[12.52]

anyway option c: I scare them away by saying controversial things. Id est: I don’t believe in love. I am choosing my partner solely judging their abilities to finger me under a table when people are around. I am secretly lusting after my brother’s wife. I am trying to get impregnated like in The Sims 2 aka I am waiting for that alien dick.

Seulgi

[12.52]

hate to break it to you babe but that’s literally who you are

You

[12.52]

I literally compliment joohyun’s boobs once and this is the treatment I get

Seulgi

[12.52]

are we not gonna talk about your alien dick kink

You

[12.52]

no kink shaming in this house lady

option d: I listen to their complaints and run

Seulgi

[12.53]

option dick

man sorry I meant option d

You

[12.53]

you didn’t

Seulgi

[12.54]

ur right I didn’t

Option e, also known as I’ll entertain the other guests so I don’t have to talk to you, presents itself in the form of one very hot, very ripped young man sporting the most expensive shirt in the room. You’re only human when you admit to yourself, mental sigh, that he ticked all the let’s get y/n horny requirements in less than fifteen seconds.

You can’t believe Joohyun has kept him hidden for so long from you. Such betrayal ends when your brother, Kim fucking Seokjin, hugs him tight and brushes with utter affection the nape of his neck, gracing him with a warm smile and a heartfelt laugh.

You can’t believe Seokjin has kept him hidden for so long from you.

Well. Scratch that. You can.

Suddenly, the ticked requirements disappear and a giant neon sentence with a very cheap background music impose themselves in your head. WHAT A TURN OFF! they read, the neon red words mocking you; you steal a glance at your brother’s acquaintance one more time - one last time - before slipping your phone in your hands and dedicating yourself one more time at your Instagram feed, scrolling through the most recent pics.

(You stumble upon an extremely rare Jungkook selfie, and you hate to admit you spend the following thirty seconds admiring him before tapping twice on the quality content you’ve signed up for when you joined the social)

You suppose that, even though your brother’s friends with fuckboy tendencies are signed off your let’s get to know each other better ;) list, it doesn’t mean the same goes for them.

So, when the dark-haired young man with a jawline sharper than Seulgi’s retorts after her third beer sits next to you, you reckon you shouldn’t be that surprised.

He acts all casual, you notice while discreetly looking at him; he’s busy taking off his jacket and flexing his muscles, all of this while pretending not to notice you, and you find it immensely cute.

Ah, fuckboys.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips twisted in a crooked smile, “I didn’t think it would be this hot today.”

“Yeah, sorry, the heat is on me.”

He chuckles in disbelief at your words, eyes turning into crescents.

“Right, there’s always the girl stealing the bride’s spotlight at weddings.”

“Oh! That’s me,” you nod enthusiastically, “That’s one hundred percent me.”

“Groom or bride?” He asks, pointing at the couple with his chin.

“What do you think?”

He looks at you funny, pressing his back on the seat, pondering in silence. Cute.

“Bride. One of Bae’s sorority sisters, maybe? You seem too young to be her age, though.”

“Damn,” you exhale, crossing your arms under your chest, “I can’t believe you got it all wrong. The expectations were low, but I’m still disappointed.”

He ducks his head, still smiling. “Then it’s the groom. How do you know Seokjin?”

Your eyes twinkle with excitement at your next words, but honestly, who can blame you? You’re having fun with this lost, cute chick.

“What’s your take, officer?”

He erupts into a laugh, and you drink in his handsome features; fuck you, Seokjin, for being friends with fuckboys only.

“Alright,” he punches the bridge of his nose, scanning the room, which is slowly filling with other guests. “I’m his friend, and I know all of his friends, which can only mean one thing: option a, you’re one of his ex-girlfriends; option b, you’re one of his secret hook-ups; option c, you’re an old friend from high school.”

“Oooh,” you beam, unrealistically intrigued, “You really suck at guessing, don’t you?”

He laughs, passing a hand through his dark locks, messing his perfectly styled hair. “Ok, fair. Which one was the closest, then?”

“Option d, of course.” You nod, relaxing your features into a sheepish grin, “I’m his much more beautiful and smarter sister.”

You exam his face, now twisting into some sort of what the fuck, such betrayal look, and you take in, for the last time – really the last, this time – his attractive, sculptured face, his full lips, the smoothness of his skin. It’s awful and unfair knowing you two won’t cross paths ever again in your lives, but at least you had some fun messing with him before things could worsen.

“I’ll be sitting in the middle of the table, with my family, if you want to avoid me.”

You wink at him for good measure, and you swear to god he blushes.

Half a wine bottle and two flutes of prosecco down, you realise you underestimated your resident fuckboy.

It happens when you’re grabbing your napkin and channelling your dreamy, happy looks towards the newlyweds, dancing in the middle of the room, their eyes gravitating only towards the love of their lives.

You sigh, pouting for the smallest of fractions, when you feel someone sitting at your side.

“You know,” Fuckboy begins, and you picture him licking his lips as he pauses, “Now I get why he never told us anything more than: I’m not an only child.”

“I know,” you exhale, turning to face him, “Seokwon is the real catch of our family. We’re really protective of him.”

“He’s married. With kids.”

“I was there when the twins opened their eyes, thank you.”

“We thought you were either a small kid or a forty years old woman.”

“Wait,” you tilt your head, “How did you know about us then? And who’s we?”

“We dug into his stuff and he caved in, admitting he had a brother and a sister.” Fuckboy looks at you, eyes dark but reflecting the dim lights of the function room, “Us. The frat guys.”

“Right, the fuckboys.”

He looks taken aback by your statement, bewildered, and you take advantage of his reaction to stand up and head away from him. It’s his words that stop you from doing so, though.

“You don’t know us—”

“—except I do know your pledges and your brothers.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “I prefer to steer away from my brother’s friends, though.”

“Right,” he says, tightening his lips in a hard line, almost hurt, “So, who am I to interfere with your judgmental thinking?” He clicks his tongue, then, a resolute exhale slipping past his lips, smothered by his own tingling despair.

The words hurt.

You don’t know what exactly pinched your senses hard, if the tone or the wallowing sadness swimming in his expression, but, as he stands up and leaves, you’re left facing the cold, hard truth.

The words hurt, you hurt, and you feel guilty.

You say nothing, glancing in the direction of the first alcoholic beverage around, and you fill yourself a glass.

Had it been someone else – had it been another sentence, another less sickening scenario, you would’ve felt proud, righteous. You’re, instead, on the other side of the feelings spectrum, all filled with crippling guilt and a nauseous, pervasive feeling you can’t quite name and pin down.

The guests are dancing around you, moving hand in hand to the rhythm of the pop love song now playing; the ballroom is packed when you let your impulsive side make a choice, eyes following the guy’s composed figure. You can drastically feel the sweat, and the heat the people are radiating, when you stand up and move towards him, the only smiling boy passing his glass from a hand to the other.

You’re close enough to tap his wrist and brush your fingers, which you do; it elicits a gasp from him, all soft, not scathing around the edges yet able to bite you, anyway. It’s the guilt, you remind yourself, looking for a sign of some sort of inclination to accept your apologies between the crease of his brows and tight jaw, and everywhere in between.

It’s sickening—this boy didn’t exist four fucking hours ago. It didn’t even cross your wildest dreams, someone like him. His shape – his silhouette – has left a print in your mind, and no matter how hard you try focusing on something else, someone else, your mind keeps going back to the shape itself.

But you’re a coward, so, while he lets you intertwine your fingers, you admit, voice loud: “I wanna dance.”

He handles you properly, kindly, before pushing you in the crowd and brushing your hips with his hands, all rings and jewellery adorning them.

He blinks twice, biting the insides of his mouth, but he manages,

“Who says I wanna dance?”

Which is a bit stupid, or hypocritic if you might, because he’s swaying you to the rhythm of a ballad the pop love song turned into. You break into the smallest of smiles.

“I want to apologize.”

He scoffs. “I don’t know you,” he says, funnily enough, “But that seems almost unlikely, coming from you.”

“Yeah, you got me there, officer. I was, uhm,” you stare blatantly at his neck, and you suppress the desire to stroke your fingers’ pads on his soft skin, “I was out of line. I’m sorry. You were right, I don’t know you. I do know your frat brothers, my own brother, but that doesn’t mean I know you.”

He hums, moving for a small fraction of instants his thumbs on your hips and it’s enough for your breath to catch into your own throat. He nods, which could mean anything, from I accept your apology to go fuck yourself, this is bullshit. You prefer the former option, if you’re being honest, which is the answer you settle for in your head, hazed and absolutely hazed and madly hazed because of his small physical contact.

To put this into the simplest terms, Seulgi’s words, you don’t like this.

“I like dancing,” his eyes tower you and gaze at the other people dancing; you wonder if he’s thinking about them, who they are to you, what role they played in Seokjin’s life, if they’ll show up to your wedding, too. These thoughts popped into your mind unannounced, before, at the table, before the not-really-fuckboy sat next to you and made you feel guilty. Such absurdity; yet here you are, in his arms. Oh god, what would Seulgi think of you if she saw you?

“Good to know, I’m awful at shoulder-hips coordination.”

“Shoulder-hips coordination?” he inquiries, lips parted.

“Uh, body rolls?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I see, you mean classy grinding.”

“I don’t do classy grinding, sorry,” you retort, head tilted to a side.

His smile his amused. “Too bad, shoulder-hips coordination is a nice trait to exhibit sometimes.”

“I prefer hips coordination. Well, hips rotation.”

“Hips rotation?”

“Riding? Is the term somehow unfamiliar to you?”

He flushes, biting back a grin and fixing his gaze somewhere in the crowd. How cute.

“Not at all, it’s nice to meet a hips rotation enthusiast here, though.”

“Statistics say at least a member in each family is a riding enthusiast, did you know?”

“Shit, talk dirty to me,” he licks his lips, pointing at Jin with his chin, “Didn’t peg him for a rider, though. Not at all.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a STEM major, are you? You’re lacking basic intuition, my friend.”

“Is this your attempt of discovering my major?” – he eyes you, a flick of amusement burning in his orbs – “You’re not very smooth, you know?”

“I have my moments.”

He snorts, placing both hands on the small of your back. You’re at height level with the base of his neck, and it’s fun how your mind betrays you in such moments, providing mental images of your nose brushing against his skin, and you nuzzling in the crook of his neck. Such taunting, invasive pictures. Fuck off, you reprimand your own mind, fuck off.

“I’m Jimin.”

“Jimin,” you taste the name on your tongue, hitting the back of your front teeth. “Jin never talked about you. I’m Y/N.”

“Jin never talked about you either.”

“Of course he never did, I’m prettier than he is.”

His little dimples make an appearance. “You know, you could really steal the bride’s spotlight.”

“That was my ultimate goal all along, even though I prefer the dark side.”

“I,” he licks his lips, and you don’t know why you’re following the gesture, “I meant to say you’re beautiful.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, eyebrows raising, “Are you a charmer?”

“I mean,” he begins, sheepish smile on display, “I never kiss and tell.”

“Touching.” He smirks. “How sweet of you.”

“You know what else is sweet?”

“Please,” you beg, meeting his eyes, “Don’t say my pussy.”

“Please,” he repeats, same mocking tone, “The possibilities are endless. Your mouth,” he scoots closer, words whispered on the shell of your ear, “Your mouth around my dick,” he almost nibbles your ear, “Your mouth screaming my name.”

“My pussy,” you add, trying not to lose your mind.

“I would never call sweet something I’ve not tasted.”

He raises a brow.

“Are you offering? You’re not very smooth, you know?”

He ignores the last question, tightening his grip. “In the middle of your brother’s wedding? Seokjin’s wedding? I’m not a dick, even though you sitting on my face would be a sight to see.”

“Right?” your voice doesn’t falter for a second, “That’s what I always say”

“Nice to see how we’ve got much in common. But I was thinking of something else, actually—” His face is once again inches away from yours, ear to mouth, hot breath fanning over you bare neck. “I wanna finger you.”

Oh.

“Under the table. Right behind you. Wanna make you whimper.”

It’s almost like being tongue-tied, fumbling for words, body flushing, but you gather somewhere the strength to form an actual sentence, which makes him smirk devilishly.

“I can be very quiet.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Bet you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut.”

“When I win,” you say, lying your words on an unrealistically high vote of confidence, even for yourself, “What do I get?”

He licks his lips, slow, savouring the moment. “You get to ride my face.”

“Not your dick?”

“I’m not a fuckboy, baby.”

A comeback of some kind is already on your tongue, but – there’s a kiss somewhere in the following seconds, all wet and tingling and perhaps filled with too many lip bites, but he can’t really blame you when you’ve been brushing your thighs together for the past minute, heat pooling down your belly. It’s enough for you to silently pledge for more, and for him to tease, because he takes a step back, smirk in place and lips reddened, and guides you towards his seat at the end of the table with a hand on the small of your back.

Downhill begins as soon as you sit down, legs barely parted, a minimum space not fitting for his plans, apparently, because the crease between Jimin’s eyebrows grows when he nudges them apart with his hand, the cold metal of his rings cooling down your flushed state. You want to gasp at the sudden intrusion, but the sound is swallowed entirely by his hot mouth on yours, distracting once again, incredibly soft and alluring. This kiss is slow, this time, like he’s taking his time tasting you and learning about the hums he draws out of you, the shyness of your previously biting tongue, and how fast you get lost in the kiss itself. You press a chaste kiss on his mouth, before creaking a space between you.

“I’m starting to think you’re all bark and no bite”

He doesn’t answer, but stares into your eyes with his hooded gaze, and he manages to sneak a hand furtively under your dress not breaking the contact. His skin is warm, but you’re warmer, and his destination is even hotter. He cocks his head, fingers brushing against the soaked, sticking material you used to call panties up until fifteen minutes ago, and he must notice—his eyes grow wider, his jaw tightens and his hand gains courage.

Fuck. This should be embarrassing, getting worked up over dirty innuendos and a kiss or two, but you’re instead feeling flushed and more. More sensitive. More open to the idea of him ruining you, even though that’s not what he’s offering. Or— is he?

The question lies unanswered when his digits rub with a sparkled intensity over both your clothed sex and your inner thighs. It’s a continuous, mellifluous melody, his fingers dancing between the two until he settles on your panties only, and that’s when you almost let out a soft moan; you don’t, he raises his brow, challenging, but you don’t, and instead glance around to notice if someone has his eyes on the both of you, sitting in the furthest region of the fucking smart, endless table.

He raises the stake, flushed: Jimin pushes your panties on one side, petting with his index your exposed self, and you suck in a breath. He continues to do so, face still, closing the distance between you two.

You don’t question the sudden kiss, instead you angle your face and close your eyes and let him press his lips on you. This feels like being drunk, or high, stretching underneath a sky dripping with stars. You cup his face with your hands, his lips so terribly soft and inviting, the smallest of smiles meeting your own chapped and curved upwards lips.

It’s when you’re merely inches away from him that he thumbs at your clit, sensitive and tingling, circling with utmost peace and no speed whatsoever. You pout at little, you realize, which makes him melt either cause of your cute frown -oh, how the tables have turned- or simply because he’s the devil himself, pressing a finger against your entrance and delving it into your heat.

“Cute,” he purrs, kissing you, “Is this okay?”

The crude, hot, nerve-wracking fingering has begun, which makes you, quickly enough, putty in his hands and ablaze with ardour for this man whose rasping voice could kill you.

“Yeah,” you breathe on his mouth, eyelids drooping closed, “Yeah, all good.”

You hum to yourself as he starts pressing kisses on your jaw and your neck, a trail of treacherous flames lighting up your skin, and you have the audacity to sigh under his ministrations, a tiny, strained sound not quite a mewl.

If he hears, he doesn’t show it. You’re biting your own lip when he enters a second finger, filling your searing emptiness.

“Want three?” he asks, voice husky and as desperate as you are under his touch. He adds it when you nod, the squelch louder than before, and you moan, rocking your hips against his fingers.

“Shh, baby,” he coos, placing his other hand on your hips, slowing your movements, “Be a good girl.”

He fucks you deep, fast, fingers clashing against the silky dress you’re wearing and sweat sparkling on his forehead. He swallows another moans of yours, sucking your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. You’re close. You’re so close, and it’s only been a couple minutes. You can’t hear anything that isn’t your wet pussy clenching around his fingers, his rhythm ruthless and burning.

“Too bad you’re not coming on my fingers, today,” he says before kissing your neck and emptying your dripping pussy, then proceeding to taste and lick his own fingers in his mouth. He lets them out with a small pop, and it’s the most terrifying sight you’ve ever had in front of your almost watering eyes. “I’m sorry I won the bet, though, your pussy is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

That’s the high and dry story of how you first met Jimin.

The second time it happens, it’s under completely different circumstances, and, substantially, against your every predictions, it really happens. It takes place, like a once in a lifetime event: there’s an orgasm involved, not due to the very charming and never disappointing Jeon jungkook the robotic version, and instead it involves a rather attractive asshole with a persistent smirk plastered on his face.

Except it’s a lot more complicated than what it sounds, and most of it is Seulgi’s fault.

Your roommate had pouted all evening, because that’s what semi adults do when they’re denied a companion for the night.

“I just wanna get wasted. It’s been one hell of a month, and you know how I get when I’m stressed.”

“I can suggest you a vibrator and a bottle of vodka. Do you settle for that, your honor?”

“The more you talk like this,” all self-absorbed and assertive and cautiously, like when talking to a kid, she begins, hands in her long, mahogany hair, “the more I just wanna push you up against the wall.”

“Sounds to me you just wanna get laid.”

“Maybe I do,” she huffs, hands on her hips, the light of your abat-jour highlighting her golden skin. “Maybe I don’t. What I know is that I wanna get wasted. Come with me, pretty please?”

“Look,” you raise your eyes from the book you’ve been holding, stretching a leg onto the unmade bed of yours, “I just wanna get this fucking paper done. I need,” you grip the phone on the bed table, checking for the white, large numbers on your lock screen, “an hour. An hour and half to edit it and I’m all yours.”

“This paper is due on Thursday, though.”

“Yeah, but I have a reputation to uphold in the family. Have to be the most beautiful and successful.”

“You’re full of shit,” are her last words, muttered with a smile as she grabs her jacket.

“Hey,” you call, stretching your neck towards her, “I don’t care if it’s two am and you’re already wasted. Call me and I’ll come to you with a whole bottle of vodka to make it up to you. Hell, I’ll even kiss you goodnight.”

“I don’t wanna make out with you, you freak.”

“You didn’t say that last time, baby!”

Seulgi

[2.13]

wassup bitch

make out with meeeeeeeeeeeeee

[location shared]

com n get me littl nuggrt

Not Sober Seulgi is probably the worst Seulgi you have ever dealt with. You let out a sigh, eyeing the frat dorm all lit up and vibrating to the trashy trap music the insiders are jamming to.

Of course, when it comes to Not Sober Seulgi, there’s boys involved. Frat boys involved. At first, you don’t pay attention to the details, the signs, surrounding you like blinding traffic lights signalling stop stop stop, all red and striking. The thought doesn’t cross your mind, the dots connecting in some hidden part of your brain not making your insides short circuit—instead you’re knocking on the door, then banging on the very wooden entrance until a face shows up; the dorm is dimly lit, and the face is partially lightened by a soft, hued red and, that, too, Future You pinpoints, should have been a sign.

It’s useless, anyway, because you hear the insider talk and you’re burning instantly, like after touching a steaming, hot cup of coffee, except that bitter coffee is still good coffee. Smug Jimin plus bitter you isn’t really sweet, nor a match made in heaven. It’s chaotic, a caustic explosion, and you both know it, judging from the sharp smile he offers you, after blinking lazily at your figure.

“This is a mixer party only,” his soothing voice welcomes you, “Do you have an invite?”

You press your tongue on your teeth, mouth carefully closed.

“Yeah, from Hell, I’ve come to take a fallen angel.”

“Sorry to break it to you, oh-kind-lady, but we didn’t give any invite to poor, damned souls.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck about your policies, then,” you move towards the small space between the door and Jimin’s body, but he interferes, placing himself right between the two. “Look, I don’t give a single fuck about this party.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

You roll your eyes. “My friend is here. She’s most certainly not sober and I’ve come to pick her up. That’s it. Do you think I want to be here, among these drunk, perverted jocks?”

He turns around, stretching his neck, his eyes darting through the crowd, inhibited by alcohol, smelling like cheap beer and weed. The moment his eyes bore into yours, though, it’s terrifying; it’s a rustled reminder of Seokjin’s wedding Jimin, and you don’t like it. You loathe it. You dread it.

“Maybe only some of us.”

He tips his head, lips curving into a timid, small smile, and you tear your gaze from his lips in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, keep dreaming of it. I just want my friend back.” You point your chin towards the amalgam of drunk party animals, “I’ll leave you to your immensely interesting activities, then.”

“What if,” he begins, “You don’t. Or—even better scenario, you leave with me.”

“Best case scenario, I leave with my friend. You stay here.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario, then?”

You cock a brow at him, crossing your arms on your chest. “I leave with my friend, you stay here. Sometime before me leaving, you’re punched. Or kicked. I don’t know. There’s a high chance I’ll throw a drink on you.”

“That implies you’ll be here long enough to grab a drink, doesn’t it? And you don’t have to ruin my shirt to get me naked, babe. Just ask nicely.”

You huff, and you’re mildly tempted to shove him against a wall. Or ruin him. Not in the funny way. More like the high and dry way, the one he knows so well. “I changed my mind, I’ll kick you.”

“Ask nicely?” His teasing tone makes your cheeks flush, and you hope the shitplace with subdued lightening can cover it. His expression shifts into an arrogant one, full smirk and little dimples out, so your cute guess is that he can see. He sees his effect on you, albeit completely unwanted and full of hatred from your side, and he enjoys it. Actually lulls in it, letting out a small laugh which, in turn, makes his eyes turn into crescents, all warm and cute—all things he’s not. All things you know he’s not.

“Ask nicely,” you repeat, rolling the words on your tongue, “Okay, babe. Let’s do this, babe. What do you want from me, babe?”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe the answer is you?”

“Yes, actually,” you sigh, fingers brushing his neck, face comically close to his perfect, chiselled one, “That’s exactly what I thought when you stopped fingering me.”

“Right,” Jimin has the audacity to smile, craning his neck as if to close the distance between you in order to meet you for a kiss, “I’m a man of word, thought. You should be impressed.”

“I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s impressed is your face under the orgasm denial definition. Google it, babe, I guarantee you the meaning comes with your name and a brilliant review of one star.”

“Unlike you.” He licks his lips, eyes on your pretty pink ones, smeared with venom, “You’re not coming.” He explains, to further ignite your rage.

“And whose fault is that, babe?”

Jimin nuzzles into your neck, cupping your other cheek with his rough palm, and his thumb stills on your throat, right where your breath is stuck. He adds pressure on it, lips fondling your burning skin, his usual smirk plastered on them.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re not fucking me,” you spit back, mouth now millimetres away from his, gently inviting you to kiss it, and cherish it, and biting it until you’re satisfied with the hot result.

“I’ll eat you out? Until you come.” He hums. “You’ll come.”

His voice is a mere strangled sound, wanting and dripping with need, and you snap out of it with a small smile.

“Nice offer,” your smile is wicked as you scrape his nape with a feathery touch, the slow movement rousing a flutter in your lower belly. “But get in line, babe.”

His shell-shocked face is the last thing you see before you fulfil the let’s rescue Seulgi! party.

(“Why do you smell like softener?” Seulgi sniffs you, arms looped loosely around your neck, eyes completely shut down. It’s a nice sight, all things considered. You’re no angel, no saint, no perfect person, but you’re a nice friend, and that’s probably the most Seokjin trait you recognize in yourself. It’s your shared apartment, and it’s past 3 am and you’re the one good friend who keeps her promises. “It’s strawberry vodka, you heathen.”)

The line turns out to be a real line, queue line, let’s get this coffee line, which, well. How can one word it, how can one phrase it fully catching the irony of it all, the distinctive je ne sais quoi of life without—

“Nice to see you here.”

It’s the perfect set for a rom-com, you notice, taking in the warm scenery around you. What else can one dream of, right? The campus coffee shop, the campus hot not-really-but-also-kinda fuckboy Jimin, partial jock to give him credit, full time attractive idiot with a tendency for orgasm denial. Really.

“What are the chances?” You exhale, voice devoid of emotions. For the sake of your parents’ integrity, you suppose, because they raised no impolite woman, of course, you turn around to face the angel-like human being, black hair partially covering his forehead, little dimples on full display. That’s—that is lack of integrity, or indecency or au-fucking-dacity. It might as well be a mix of the above-mentioned possibilities, all fitting and nurturing you because he’s gorgeous. He’s handsome. Jimin’s the most attractive human being you’ve ever seen in your life, and it’s not fair.

(Beside the fact that you’ve lived with Kim Seokjin, for fuck’s sake)

He pokes his own cheek, and you bask into the otherworldly scenario that takes place right in front of your caffeine deprived eyes. It’s a sight for sore, soft eyes, and it’s the end of the world as you know it, because it’s morning, too early to properly function like a normal human being, but there he is. There he is, Jimin, channelling his inner boyfriend material aura, oozing off boyfriend smell, nice, fresh, aftershave smell, rocking a stupid sweater and the messiest black mop of hair.

It’s honestly a tragedy, and you won’t stand for it. You will make a move—

“You’re squinting your eyes, like, real tight. Are you alright?”

Just ogling you, your drowsy mind offers, the fucking cheater.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing a lump in your dry throat, “Just need coffee. A latte. Anything.”

You move forward in the queue, and as you blink you realize it’s your turn, until it’s not anymore. Jimin carefully and gently moves you out of the way, brushing with the softest touch your side.

“A latte and an iced americano, please.”

The sweetened order for two turns into a hushed thank you, a tipped smile, a flutter of you heart. It’s drinks still half full, his curious gaze darting on your lips, your defences down. It’s unfair, because in a hot second all this pent-up tension shifts into a light, chaste kiss, your back pressed against the coffee shop’s restroom; your chest heaves under his tantalizing make-out session with your neck, followed by his frantic lips pressing on yours, his tongue licking lazily into your mouth, a gasp easing its way out of your warm and eager mouth. It’s a hot-blooded supercut, each frame announced by a starving moan, a content sigh, and, before you realise it, you’re on your bed, Jimin hovering on top of you.

It’s Saturday morning, you hum to yourself, fingers sliding into his hair, all’s in check. There’s a warm body slumped on yours, his tongue swerving on your lower lip and his hips shyly bucking between your open legs. Your panties are drenched, you can feel his hard on through the jeans and, really, all’s in check.

He nudges your nose with his. “Lemme eat you out.”

The answer lies sitting on the tip of your tongue, right next to an obnoxious remark that you hope will rile him up enough for him to rip your underwear, which you definitely won’t complain about. However, the words don’t come out, they slur in your craving mouth the second he gets up and shoves you toward the end of your unmade bed, spreading your naked legs open with his calloused palms.

“Nice skirt,” he comments, voice a rasp, eyeing the drenched, lilac underwear, skirt at this point gone up to cover your stomach. “I just want…”

He shuffles closer, enough for you to feel his hot breath on your core, and that’s when Jimin pulls the panties on a side, teasing you with little licks to your entrance. You’re responsive, too eager for anything to quench your thirst that you sigh happily at the barest of actions, gripping strands of his hair. Jimin chuckles, engulfing the throbbing clit in his mouth in one go and drawing desperate moans out of your cute, devilish mouth.

“Fuckboy move,” you emit, voice cracking at the pressure of his warm mouth, “Oh, oh. Fuck…”

He replies flattening his tongue on your core, then licking and lapping against your dripping folds. Jimin positively glows at the cries you let out, face slobbering with your arousal while driving you insane, fucking with his tongue like his life depended on it. It’s almost a spiritual experience, a crescendo of wails and sobs, his face drown in your pussy and his tongue paying reverence to your approaching orgasm. He can feel it in the way you writhe, in his hand splaying over your stomach, keeping you still while he eats you religiously, forehead beaded with sweat.

You come with a trembling hand in his hair, the other flicking your bare nipple, back slightly arched and a lewd mewl; Jimin takes in the way your body trembles, your breath all staggered because of him, and the sight alone is enough for him to cum in his pants with a grunt, completely untouched.

The second time it happens is, coincidentally, the first time Jimin knows there’s no turning back from this.

Complicated is a big word when it comes to relationship, you reckon, emitting something akin to a gasp, truly soap operas worthy material, but, for the first time in your life, you decide to name it this way.

Being with Jimin is… complicated, for starters. Especially because you’re not with Jimin, in the strict, relationship-wise meaning. He knows your favourite colour (“Why the fuck you only own purple underwear?” “It’s lilac, dick, watch your mouth.” “Watch your own mouth, babe. You’re the one on your knees.”), your favourite food (“But you like having your mouth stuffed with my cock, honey.” You sigh, blushing. “First of all, I’m talking about real food. That amazing steak kind of food—“

“I’ll show you real meat, babe.”

“Gross. Gross. How can I cancel the last five seconds of my life?”

“Come here, Jared, nineteen,” he half smiles, tilting his head, “I’ll get us fries.”), your favourite movie (“We can’t get each other off every time your ugly paper cap fits—oh,” you suck in a breath, Jimin flicking his tongue on your turgid nipple, “oh, god, don’t stop.”), your best friend’s name (“I condone you dicking her so good she sometimes cries, you know, I just don’t when I’m in the room next to hers and all I can hear is my best friend trying to formulate a single coherent word but failing because you’re pounding her mercilessly into the mattress.” Jimin chuckles, grabbing his jacket before holding the doorknob. “She begged, Seulgi.”)—so what? It’s not like you sat down and decided not to ask each other dumb questions, so that you could find out in the funny, kinky way. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even decide on anything, didn’t even talk about talking, because the relationship related shit didn’t even cross your mind.

It’s even quite fucking hard for it to cross it, because half the time you’re together you’re either both naked – except for the time he pleaded for the tartan mini to stay – or stuffing your mouth with food—because, if there’s something you’ve learned after one too many hook-ups with him is that this kind of sex requires strength. Like, actual, physical strength, if we’re not talking about the this test is draining me please fuck me until I can’t walk sex. Which, yeah, 10/10 would recommend. That was the day Seulgi decided to invest in ear plugs while muttering capitalism, here I come.

You also came.

Funnily enough, guess who also came. Not in the funny, kinky way. Think about the grossest thing, imagine the beyond the bounds of possibility, sprinkle it with Jimin earnestly shoving his dick down your throat, stir it with a poor Taehyung brushing his teeth next to the both of you, a step away from the shower, and serve it on the most expensive plate in the kitchen, a recipe not approved by Kim Seokjin.

Yeah, you mentally roll your eyes, licking your lips clean, at eye-level with your sorta enemy with benefits’ pretty dick: the married brother of yours, former fratboy, taller than your current will to live.

In hindsight, maybe it is Seokjin’s fault. Once you’re married, you’re supposed to be committed to the cause, and sometimes, an angry little crumb in you finds the audacity to speak, the cause is made up of your four walls: ergo home, ergo your married life, miles away from the absurdity that once filled his university days. You’re being hypocritical, you realize, skin wet, body trembling. In the simplest, most hedonistic terms, you’re done with the chaos in this fraternity and just wished that hooking up was easier. It’s more than a stolen orgasm, a random spur of pleasure and free de-stresser; it’s also something not quite like art but just as peculiar. Sex with Jimin is more than nice, more than a fast rummage of clothes on the floor and panties teared, or condoms stuffed in every single pocket of his jacket.

It should also be noticed that it’s been one hell of a stressful week, okay, which means that it’s one of those times you seek for naked intimacy, in its least literal meaning. You’re looking for something sure, something silent, something earnest. Jimin gives you that in the simplest of forms, in the easiest of ways. It’s not fair for your brother to come unannounced and burst into the house with his adorable laugh and love for his own brothers. Way to ruin the moment, bro.

Jimin blinks attentively when Taehyung laughs, clapping his hands all happy and following the elder’s voice outside the bathroom.

“I’m getting you my clothes.”

“Wait, what?”

His lips part just enough for his tongue to wet them, and your eyes follow in silence the gesture.

“I mean,” he starts, grabbing a towel, “You either come out with me from this bathroom or you don’t.”

He’s concise, yet harsh, words uttered with those soft lips yet are just as hot as a slap in your face. He’s telling the truth, but you soon find out you don’t really like it.

There’s something abrupt and severe in those chosen words, so well picked out because they’re not meant to hurt, but at the same time they’re so worrying. So terrible, practically as hard as a punch in your guts.

You either come out of the bathroom with him — you had been blowing minutes before, hadn’t you? Quite the intimacy, huh? — or you don’t. You stay behind. Different rooms, a whole door to separate you while he’s out with the people he cares about.

Seems legit, but. It’s unfair. You know Jimin isn’t choosing for you, but it’s obvious he’s inclined towards an option between the two, and you’re terrified to discover whether it’s his own desire pushing or what he thinks you want.

You, instead, push the thought aside when you nod, taking the towel from his hands and covering your body from this terrific half hook-up.

Because that’s what it is—that’s what you are.

It dawns upon you like a cold breeze hitting your face in full December, suddenly, and that’s when you realize winter is near. In your mind, this hooking up scenario seemed nicer. Sounded softer, a cute bubble moving slowly in the air.

But now—well, now the bubble has burst, and it feels wrong, and this unexpected wrong doesn’t feel right in your chest, and that’s the story of how you leave the house escaping from his window, in his clothes, with vision blurred by hot, stupid, idiotic tears.

Seulgi is the first one to notice, and, obviously, the first one to speak.

“Something’s been bothering you,” she says, head tilted in a way that’s supposed to be emphatic and worried but comes off as stiff and terrified. “Care to share?”

It’s just a wholesome amount of terrifying stuff, isn’t it? First the shower incident, now Seulgi’s ways not working around you anymore. What’s next? Avoiding Jimin for a whole week? Blocking his number? Losing the smart and beautiful title to your obnoxious brother?

You wouldn’t be surprised, really. Shit like this always happens at the same fucking time.

“It’s nothing. A stressful couple days, maybe? Or maybe I’m getting sick. There’s a guy always coughing during Physics. Maybe it’s his fault, who knows.”

Seulgi unlocks her phone, an unreadable gaze studying you. She gives up a second later, though, her weak maybe reaching your ears when you’ve already looked down on your book.

One simply cannot be annoyed because of a half hook up. Christ. You deserve better than that. You have some dignity left, tainted by everything that’s not Jimin and his harsh, stupid words.

So, your mind offers, while you squint your eyes, I suppose there’s nothing else you could do about it.

Nothing else besides acknowledging it and moving on.

Sounds like a plan. A fireproof plan, an escape plan, something detailed and precise. Planned to work out smoothly; planned to be executed without pain or mistakes.

It’s seven sharp when he knocks, takeout in his left hand, eyes bulging because it’s fucking freezing outside.

“It’s fucking freezing, what the fuck.” He says out loud, indeed. What he receives as an answer is the sound of your tongue clicking, the biggest amount of interest you’ve shown towards him the whole week. He would finally exhale, weren’t it for the fact that this is still pretty traumatic, because if there’s something he’s learned while orbiting around you, is that you’re constantly awake and aware of your surroundings. Your body language says that you pay attention to him, or Seulgi, or whoever you’re talking to. You follow the guy with your eyes, and you listen and nod in all the right places during a conversation, and you search for his dark gaze when he’s fucking you in the dimly lit bedroom, the bed creaking under your sweaty sex making. He’s not admitting it, he never will, and he’ll pretty much deny this to everyone who will ask but: there’s something hot about it. Something burning with the way your body reacts to him, when your eyes follow his actions, while your voice falters when he fucks you right, and it somehow pushes him to the edge every time. It’s the equivalent of Jungkook getting a boner in the gym while catching girls and boys drooling at him, except he’s talking about you and your crazy moans, your magic aura.

And yes, okay, fucking blame him, the realization alone made him jerk off in his room like a teen, twice, yesterday. That’s a fact. That’s barely a fact, alright? This is a truth; a statement soon forgot by the knowers. Obviously.

You look spent, he thinks, if he had to choose a word, dared by some arrogant deity to define the current mess you were. He glances at your barely done ponytail, at the tiredness written all over your face. He takes in your baggy sweater, your quiet beauty, knowing this is gonna be one of those nights you take a step back.

He doesn’t say anything though, instead he brushes the hair on your forehead, not even making contact with your skin.

You grab the bag from his hands, shivering instantly and hoping he doesn’t read the signs. They’re—they’re there, you know, you’re collecting them slowly, one after another, grabbing one and looking cautiously for the following one, hoping it’s not there. Hoping it doesn’t exist.

You exhale a sigh, disguising it as cough, a noise, something distracting Jimin from his silent staring, which is, funnily enough, loud and cacophonic.

“Hungry,” you state, the single word weighting more because of the soft pout on your lips. Jimin hates that he knows what it means, that it’s gonna be just the two of you this time, no chill whatsoever, no bodies touching and melting against each-other. He’s not complaining, what the fuck, he’s not an idiot. He’s not even mad, he’s just—accepting, on a level. This is the point of no return, he guesses, following you on the couch and admiring the laptop’s screen reflected on your face.

He doesn’t say anything when you search for Brooklyn 99 on Netflix, because he’d say everything, otherwise. He’d mumble something along the lines of this feels real, we could do this all the time, or, worst of all: I like this. I like you.

So, in order: he tugs at your sleeves and scoots you closer to him, and you say absolutely nothing at the gesture. He’s ecstatic on the inside, partially terrified, mostly delusional. He pretends he’s something more when you lean on him, the slightest pressure of your head on his shoulder. He cares zero fucks about the show when he’s breathing your scent in and feels how warm you are and shuts his eyelids down when he pictures you adoring him. Liking him. Liking him a whole lot more—

He’s fucked, he realises, hours later, when you doze off and he has to carry you to bed, something you claim of loathing, which—what on earth. It’s an unfathomable absurdity, that’s what it is.

“You can stay.”

His voice falters. “What?”

You cough, eyes closed as you speak sinful words: “The night, I mean. It’s fucking freezing outside.”

His lips form a small o, and it’s hot all of a sudden. “Alright,” he manages, staring at you on your bed, hands fidgety and heartbeat accelerated for some reason, “Make space for me. Hey, fucker. I’m serious. Let me in.”

You do.

(to be continued. ily)

#BTS jimin #bts #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts smut #bts social media au #bts imagine #bts imagines #jimin imagine #jimin #jimin smut #jimin bts #jimin x reader

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flameo-firelord-hotman · 3 years

Text

Part 1

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: none

Words: 2.1

Summary: to everyone she knew, [y/n] was a peasant, destined to be a servant just like her parents. To Zuko, however, she was his best friend. After losing his agni kai and being exiled, [y/n] was devastated. She thought she would never see him again. Three years later, she almost wished he never came back.

A/N: it’s finally here! So sorry for putting it off for so long. I felt unmotivated and like this wasn’t very good? But I’m posting it now, so there’s no going back lol. Enjoy! And please give me feedback :)

Part 1 -> Part 2

Series | Masterlist

Despite being a lower class citizen, [y/n] was very familiar with the halls of the Fire Nation Royal Palace. Her parents had been working as servants for the royal family since she was a little girl. Her mom was a housemaid. Her dad was a groundskeeper. To be a servant for the royal family was an honor, and [y/n]'s parents instilled this in her. Sometimes they brought her to work to teach her the skills she would need to become one as well.

Yes, her parents fully expected her to become a servant. Doing so was typical for citizens of her status. Specifically, though, her parents expected her to follow in their path and work for the royal family. Perhaps that would change when she met Zuko.

"Hi! My name's Zuko! What's yours?" A bubbly boy asked [y/n] one day. He was eight years old, the same age as [y/n]. His dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and he had bright, amber eyes. Back and forth he rocked on his feet, anxiously waiting for her answer.

It was rare for [y/n] to see the royal family, and it was unheard of for one of them to speak to her…until that day.

"M-my name is [y/n]. It's an honor to meet you, Prince Zuko," [y/n] replied bashfully. She bowed carefully to show her respect for the Firelord's grandson, as her parents had taught her to do.

"You don't need to bow to me. You're my friend now!"

[Y/n] quickly straightened up. "But, but--"

"Will you play with me?" Zuko asked eagerly. [Y/n] turned to her mom, who was washing linens. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to.

Her mom quietly said to her, "if the Prince wants you to play with him, then it's okay." [Y/n] turned back to the young boy and nodded.

From that day on, they became best friends. Previously, [y/n] never looked forward to coming to work with her parents. It was boring, and the palace and everyone in it seemed so intimidating. Since meeting Zuko, it became the one thing she looked forward to.

They often played games in the palace gardens, or played hide-and-seek inside the palace with Zuko's mom, Lady Ursa. On occasion, they would play with his sister Azula and her friends Mai and Ty Lee (but only when the princess let her).

Eventually, instead of waiting for [y/n]'s parents to bring her to work, he would invite her over for playdates. Even as they approached their teen years, Zuko continued to invite [y/n] to hang out. As they matured, they grew closer. [Y/n] didn't realize it at first, but gradually she realized: she had feelings for Zuko.

Then one day, the invitations abruptly stopped. [Y/n] could never forget. The last words Zuko spoke to her on that day would echo in her mind: I'll be fine, [y/n]. Don't worry. I've been training for years. I'm sure I can take on this guy!

She didn’t get to watch the agni kai, and she was glad she didn't. She overheard all the palace staff whispering haunting rumors about it afterward. If only she could've been there for him. [Y/n] begged the guards outside of the infirmary to let her see Zuko, but they wouldn't.

Then, the next day, he was gone. And so [y/n] grieved the loss of her best friend and crush, so sure she would never see Zuko again.

"Momma! Papa! I'm home!" [Y/n] called as she walked into their apartment, returning home from a long day of work.

Three years had passed since that fateful day. During that time, [y/n] slowly adjusted to her new life: one without Zuko, as well as one as a housemaid. At thirteen, she began working for one of the Fire Nation's many rich, noble families. Soon she would gain the experience and expertise to become a servant for the royal family…though she was not fond of the idea of working for the family that Zuko was no longer a part of and in the home that Zuko no longer lived in. The thought of it was dreadful.

"Oh, [y/n]!" Her mom cheered as she jogged up to her. "You will not believe what I heard at the palace today!"

"Momma, please, you need to get a new hobby," [y/n] said.

Her mom was always eavesdropping and gossiping with the other servants about the royal family. [Y/n] couldn't blame her though; it was the only fun thing to do at work.

"Oh, this isn't a rumor, [y/n]. It's real," her dad chimed in as walked into the room.

[Y/n] chuckled. "Well, if dad says so, then I'm curious. What is it?"

Her parents looked at each other and grinned before turning back to [y/n]. "Prince Zuko is coming home!" They exclaimed.

[Y/n]'s jaw dropped. She was speechless. No way. They're not joking, right? They wouldn't. That would be a cruel prank. But still, Zuko was given an impossible task. That can only mean…

"Sweetie? Aren't you excited?" Her mom asked with concern. "Are you okay?"

[Y/n] nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah. I just don't believe it. It's too good to be true, you know?"

Her mom clasped [y/n]'s hands in hers. "Well, sweetie, it is true. Please tell her, honey, so she believes me!" She turned to her husband and laughed.

"We had a large staff meeting about it today," her dad explained. "We were told that he and his sister, Princess Azula will be here in about three days."

"Wow…this is really happening, isn't it?" [Y/n] asked.

"Mhm. Now, your mother and I are going to be working hard to welcome them home for the next few days. Don't be surprised if we return home late, okay?"

"Okay, papa," [y/n] smiled, trying to contain her excitement.

"And don't worry, we'll make sure you get to see him when he comes home." Her mother winked, making [y/n] giggle.

Over the next few days, [y/n] prepared for her reunion with Zuko. First, she made sure to have the day off. Second, she used her savings to buy a nice outfit. Third, she gave her hair a trim. Finally, she rehearsed everything she was going to say to him: that she missed him so much, how sorry she was for not being there for him, that she wished she could've gone with him, and that she was beyond excited to be with him again…perhaps she would confess her feelings for the prince too.

And when he returned, [y/n] was ready. She wore her new outfit: a short, rose colored tunic and sash over a long, maroon skirt. Her [h/c] hair was styled half-up, half-down with a top knot. It was a simple look, but she thought her best friend would like it.

A massive crowd gathered outside of the palace. Just about everyone living in Royal Caldera City was there. [Y/n] and her parents got as close as they could, which was unfortunately quite far away. They could barely see or hear Li and Lo speaking from the balcony…something about Azula invading Ba Sing Se and taking down the Avatar with Zuko.

"Now, the heroes have returned home! Your princess, Azula," shouted the two old women. Right on cue, the princess strutted out to the edge of the balcony. [Y/n] squinted her eyes to see her. Everyone around her cheered and clapped.

"And after three long years," they continued, "your prince has returned…"

This was it. This was the moment [y/n] had been waiting for. Her heart pounded in her chest, her jaw tightened, clenching her teeth, and her palms began sweating. The anticipation was killing her.

"Zuko!" Their voices boomed over the crowd.

And there he was: the banished prince, approaching the balcony's edge. [Y/n] stared in amazement. It really was true. Zuko came home! She jumped and cheered and clapped with the rest of the crowd.

After the public announcement, [y/n]'s parents brought her into the palace "to help with housekeeping." Yes, it was lie, but the palace guards believed it. They were very familiar with [y/n] and her family after all. Quickly, she strode through the halls of the palace, going to the one place she knew she would find him.

The hall opened to a large garden behind the palace. Beautiful flowers and bushes surrounded the area. Stone steps and tōrōs led to a large weeping willow next to a pond. The willow's long branches draped over the edge of the pond, the tips of its leaves tickling the water's surface. Beneath it sat the boy she was looking for. He was feeding small chunks of bread to a family of turtleducks.

It was like a dream. For the first time in three years, [y/n] was looking at Zuko's face. A large, patch of rough, red skin covered the left side…a remnant of his agni kai. It was shocking yet saddening. However, Zuko was still very handsome. His dark hair was pulled back into a top knot and decorated with a regal hairpiece. He had grown taller, his jawline was more defined and he had become more muscular. Zuko was no longer that little boy [y/n] remembered, which begged the question: did he remember her?

As [y/n] approached the prince, Zuko noticed her and made eye contact. His body froze and eyes widened.

"Hi, Zuko," [y/n] greeted him anxiously.

He immediately stood up and dropped all the bread chunks. The turtleducks took advantage and gobbled up every last crumb. "[Y/n]? Is that you?"

"Yeah! You remembered me."

Zuko beamed and opened his arms to [y/n]. They hugged each other tightly. [Y/n] felt three years of stress and tension in her body dissipate as she relaxed into his embrace. Not only was she seeing Zuko again, she was hearing his voice (which had deepened), she was feeling his warmth, and she was remembering what he smelled like.

"Of course I remember you," Zuko said, "how could I forget my best friend?"

"It's silly, I know…but it's been so long," [y/n] replied. They separated and looked at each other. Those amber eyes still shined just as they did when she first met him. [Y/n] felt her cheeks turn rosy.

"You're right. I'm really glad to see you again. I've missed you."

[Y/n] smiled. "I've missed you too. I have the day off if you want to hang out and catch up!"

"I'd love to," Zuko started, "but I can't. I'm going out with Mai today."

[Y/n]'s smile faded. "M-Mai?"

"Yep, he's taking me on a date today," a familiar voice from behind [y/n] said.

[Y/n] turned to see Mai approaching them. She gave Zuko a sweet smile, which Zuko reciprocated. Then, she clasped her hand in his and wrapped her other hand around his bicep. She rested her head on his shoulder and looked at [y/n]. [Y/n] felt her heart drop to her stomach.

Mai was as gorgeous as ever, not to mention she was wealthy and noble. Of course, Zuko would date her. [Y/n] suddenly felt stupid for even considering telling Zuko about her feelings. Why would a prince go out with a commoner? Why would a prince fall for one in the first place? Why did she think she had a chance?

"It's about time, if you ask me," another familiar voice interrupted [y/n]'s thoughts.

Azula, someone else she hadn't seen in years, strutted into the garden with a hand on her hip. As a child she was quite bossy and intimidating. From the rumors [y/n]'s mom told her, she never grew out of that behavior. Even now, she was giving [y/n] a dirty look.

"Oh please, Azula. It's been three years, and I just got here," Zuko scowled at his sister.

The princess scoffed. "Everyone knew Mai had a crush on you. Well, everyone but my idiot brother." Mai blushed and gave Azula a look, while Zuko groaned and rolled his eyes.

[Y/n] felt very out of place and uncomfortable. She wanted to leave. She wanted to run away. She wanted to go home. She wanted to lay in her bed and curse herself for thinking this was a good idea. Sure, [y/n] was beyond happy to see Zuko again, but she was also crushed knowing that his heart belonged to someone else. Moreover, being in the presence of Azula made her feel threatened. [Y/n] knew the princess despised her.

"Well, um, I'll leave you all to it. Have fun today…" [y/n] quietly said, smiling weakly.

"Okay, it was great seeing you again, [y/n]!" He said cheerfully.

"Yeah, it was good to see you too."

No…no, it wasn't.

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko #atla #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic #prince zuko #firelord zuko #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #atla x reader #atla x y/n #atla x you #my fic #ffh writes

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miraculouslyintoodeep · 3 years

Text

Just Good Friends

Lol here’s a short fic. Alya is super suspicious because Marinette and Adrien keep acting like they’re dating. But actually, Ladybug and Chat Noir fell for each other a few months before, learned each other’s identities a month in, and decided it might be too coincidental if Marinette and Adrien started dating at the same time. Hope you like it!

Alya was confused. She was angry. And frankly, she was a little impressed by the sheer craziness of her best friend’s lies. Plain and simple, Marinette was dating Adrien. Alya just… well she didn’t have the proof yet.

It all started a few months back, when Mari’s stuttering sort of just disappeared. Alya had been sitting in her usual seat in the second row of the classroom when Mari walked in that day. She seemed normal. If anything, she appeared happier and sleepier than normal.

“Good morning, Adrien,” she said dreamily, flashing him a sweet smile void of any of her usual awkwardness. Adrien smiled back, equally happy. But neither really seemed to see one another. It was as if they were both off in their heads thinking about the same pleasant thing. Needless to say, Alya’s journalist instincts shuddered.

“You alright, girl?” Alya asked as her friend floated into her seat next to her. Mari just nodded.

This odd behavior carried on for weeks. If anything, it only got worse. And about a month later, as Alya finally decided to let it go, something even stranger happened. Adrien and Marinette became best friends. Overnight!

Alya had walked into the school, minding her own business, when she stumbled across the two of them giggling by Mari’s locker. Their body language was shockingly intimate, with Adrien’s arm around her shoulder and Mari’s hand on his chest.

“What’s going on here?” Alya demanded. Mari grinned up at her, looking for all the world as if her crush on Adrien had finally been realized.

“Nothing, Al, me and Adrien were just talking about this funny thing we did yesterday.”

Alya stared into her best friend’s unflinching eyes and then turned to Adrien. He blinked at her intensity.

“You okay, Alya?” Adrien asked.

“The better question is are you and Mari okay? Or, ya know. Better than okay, if you catch my drift.”

Adrien laughed.

“Mari and I are great! No need to worry about us. See you in class, Alya,” Adrien waved, and walked off arm in arm with Marinette.

As the week went on, Adrien and Marinette continued to act like they never had a drop of awkwardness between them. They talked inches from each other’s faces, held an illegal amount of eye contact, and basically worshipped each other. But no matter how many times Alya confronted Marinette about it, she always said the same thing.

“We’re just really good friends!”

It was a disgusting betrayal of friendship. Alya simply didn’t know what to do. After a month passed, Alya broke down.

“Marinette, you’re dating him! You are! Just admit it!”

Marinette paused as she took her seat next to Alya, and smiled slyly.

“Okay, Al, I’ll tell you what happened between me and Adrien,” she whispered.

Alya leaned forward, eager to finally know the truth.

“About a month ago, we had a little chat” — Mari suddenly started giggling, but after a moment composed herself — “and anyways, we realized that we had a lot in common. We’re super compatible!” — Mari giggled again — “and now we’re best friends!”

Alya gapped.

“Are you trying to tell me that your crush on Adrien is completely gone? That this is platonic?”

“Yes, Al. I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, am not dating Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien walked in right as Marinette finished this declaration and broke down laughing.

“And I, Adrien Agreste, am not dating Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Alya screamed in frustration and walked out.

Another month passed by, and Alya found herself confused, angry, and impressed at Adrien and Marinette’s commitment to gaslighting her. She wanted to be happy for her best friend for finally dating the love of her life. But she couldn’t. She was being denied that luxury. Her own boyfriend was starting to worry about her mental health.

“Al, at least they’re happy. Does it matter if they’re dating or not?” Nino asked, pulling her into a much needed hug. Alya threw him off her.

“They are dating, Nino! They are! Look at them!”

Nino glanced over at Mari and Adrien, who were at the moment huddling together by the door of the classroom. Adrien’s hand cupped Mari’s cheek as she whispered fiercely to him.

“Al, we’re in the middle of an akuma attack. Don’t you think it’s nice they’re comforting each other?”

Alya shook her head angrily as an explosion rocked the building a few classrooms away.

“No, it’s infuriating.”

Adrien suddenly stood up, yanked the door open, and yelled at Mari to run. Everyone turned to him in confusion.

“I had to get Mari out, I couldn’t just let her be a sitting duck with the rest of us,” Adrien said, as Alya stomped up to him.

“What about the rest of us, Agreste? Do you only care about Mari? Is it because you’re dating her? Is it because you’re in love?” Alya demanded.

Adrien rolled his eyes and grinned.

“Alya, I told you. I, Adrien Agreste, am not dating Marinette Dupain-Cheng. And anyways, I told her to go get Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Before Alya could physically attack him, Ladybug swung in asking if everyone was okay. Alya let out a sigh of relief. Now Ladybug and Chat Noir were a couple of people she could understand. A few months ago, she caught them on camera embracing after a pretty nasty akuma. After that, people saw them making out all over the city. They even let her interview them, so they could make their relationship public knowledge. Alya basked in the glow of their definite and proven relationship.

As the akuma burst in after Ladybug, she jumped into action, scooping Adrien into her arms and sending the akuma flying with her yo-yo. She quickly led the class to the courtyard and demanded for them to get somewhere safe.

“Adrien, are you okay?” Ladybug asked the blonde, as he smiled lovingly up at her from where she held him bridal style.

“I am now that you’re here,” Adrien said, cupping her cheek with his hand.

Alya stopped running away and turned on them, blinded by her own rage.

“Ladybug! What are you doing! You’re with Chat Noir! You told me that you’re with Chat Noir!”

Ladybug and Adrien stared at her for a moment, the latter nervously and the former oddly amused. Ladybug laughed after a moment and waved her free hand passively at Alya.

“Chat Noir and I agreed that Adrien can be my celebrity free pass. I’ve always been such a big fan of his work. Chat said if I ever got the chance to hook up with him, I totally could,” Ladybug explained proudly.

Alya’s jaw dropped and Adrien’s face turned bright red.

“In fact! I should probably make good on that, come here handsome boy.”

Ladybug pulled Adrien into a very deep, very French kiss. And just a few feet away from them, Alya spontaneously combusted.

And that’s the story of how Alya got trust issues.

#adrienette #adrien agreste #alya does not know mari's identity because that's a ridiculous development that makes no sense and adrien deserves better

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luvknow · 5 years

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priceless | bang chan [1/2]

genre: rich kid!chan x fem!reader feat. rich kid!felix & rick kid!woojin ; friends-to-lovers ; fluff ; angst ; alcohol consumption ; crazy rich asians inspired summary: lucky you, you fall for the rich and powerful bang chan that every woman has their eyes on and he likes you back! but you get a taste of the luxurious life they all live in and you realize that someone like you isn’t meant to be with someone like him. wc: 12.9k a/n: two parts cuz this woulda been like 20k and i’m tired lol enjoy!

PART 2/2

Love at first sight was a horrendous idea. The thought of falling for someone the second your eyes met was absolutely terrifying. Of course this wasn’t exactly how it worked, but it sounded like sorcery, didn’t it? At least to Chan it did. He asked his father one time what it meant to feel so enamored by someone simply from the first encounter and he replied with,

“That’s just Hollywood mumbo-jumbo! Love takes time and it will come naturally, not right at the start. Love is patient. Just look at me - I’m patient with your mother all the time!”

So instead of expecting a spark with every person he met, Chan didn’t bother and let his feelings develop naturally. With every girlfriend he’s ever had, he let his heart take the lead and his mind, body, and soul followed shortly after.

Then he met you. Everything he knew about falling love went out the window. With you, love was not patient, nor was it kind, nor was it anything close to how it should ‘develop naturally’. It was a bullet train that hit Chan without remorse, crumbling every word and memory about what he thought love was supposed to be. It was unforgiving, with you two spending your entire college careers together as he watched you smile whenever you got your food, witnessed the stars in your eyes on your weekend nights together, and took note of the way your brows furrowed cutely when you were focused. The worst was when he had to sit there and listen about the guy you went on a date with or took back to your place. Love was truly unfair, and yes, he wasn’t so innocent on his side either, but how else was he supposed to distract himself from you? Surely partly-meaningless but healthy relationships with other women was much healthier than drowning in alcohol or whatever his inheritance-mooching friends did these days, wasn’t it?

Koi no yokan. It meant something along the lines of the type of feeling when you meet someone and you know that one day, you’ll fall in love with them. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow, but it was inevitable. Chan hoped that was the kind of feeling you had when you met him. He hoped - he even prayed! - that the day you two met, you looked at him and thought, ‘he’s the type of man I could see myself falling for endlessly one day. Absolutely, positively ardently.’

Even when everyone around him and his ancestors above knew that you two couldn’t possibly be together, he’d find a way. Bang Chan always found a way.

After one thousand four hundred sixty days, multiple meaningless flings, and a couple of diplomas later, Chan continued to wait for that day to come.

four years ago:

You met Chan through your classmate-turned-friend Felix. It all started with some stupid class that was some elective you didn’t care about with a Professor who still believed in assigning partners for projects because college students weren’t capable of doing work on their own. Lo and behold, you were paired up with Felix, who wore an impossible amount of hyped-up designer brands, some of which you haven’t even heard of before. Of course you thought you were stuck with some rich, snobby, stuck-up inheritance-hogging brat who only went to college and majored in business so he could upstage all the other rich kids in his Daddy’s social circle, making him look like he was better than the rest of them for earning his inheritance. Surprisingly, that wasn’t all true. He was definitely trying to be The Top Heir, but he wasn’t a total dick. He was actually pretty nice for someone with a zillion dollars. That was the start of a beautiful and dynamic friendship.

“I can’t believe that’s what you really thought of me!” Felix gasped, clutching his heart at your insult. You tried to shush him from the nosy customers in the coffee shop, but he didn’t care. “You can’t judge a book by its cover, _____.”

“How can I not when you’ve rubbed your worth in my face since day one?” You took his Gucci x SUPREME collab black wallet with the signature GG logo and a Kingsnake painted on it that held four of his very heavy credit cards and shoved it in his face like he did with you and his entire existence.

“Yo, chill! The friction isn’t good for the credit cards!”

“I’m sure you have your emergency billion dollars stashed up in your penthouse suite just in case.”

“Yeah, but I hate carrying cash, so stop it,” he whined, snatching his wallet back. His phone vibrated on the table. “Oh, he’s almost here.”

“Who?”

“One of my friends. He asked to borrow the Versace belt you love so much.”

“You have two dozen Versace belts,” you scoffed. “Which one?”

“The one with the Barocco print.”

“English, Felix, English.”

“The floral one.”

“Oh my God, he wants to borrow that six-hundred dollar color-clashing mess!? Shouldn’t you people with money have some sort of fashion sense?”

“You are so mean. Stereotyping ‘my people’ is not cool, _____. Not cool! And my fashion sense is A-1!” he scolded, poking you harshly with his embossed fountain pen. “Can you at least try to be nice to him when he comes? You’re always so distant when you meet my friends.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Remember when you met Changbin?”

“Changbin told me he wanted to fly me to Paris to wine and dine me and rent a room in the Palace of Versailles like a Diamond-Grade prostitute, of course I try to stay far away from him!”

“But isn’t that the nicest thing a guy has ever told you? Isn’t it tempting to want to say yes? If I were you, I would’ve taken the offer.”

“Not surprised.”

It was then an impossibly handsome guy walked through the door. That had to be him because all of Felix’s friends were hot, but it was hard to tell. He wasn’t wearing anything ostentatious that screamed he was born into money (unlike your buddy Felix) nor did he wear anything that even resembled expensive brands. He wore all black, and though some items were stamped SUPREME, you couldn’t tell or at least recognize any other brands he wore. His fluffy, curly hair, cut jawline, kind eyes, and a warm million-dollar smile let you know he wasn’t like Felix’s other friends at all.

“_____, this is Chan, a family friend of mine. Chan, this is _____, the sole reason I haven’t flunked school yet.”

Chan was raised to judge every person he met by their looks and what they wore - it was an old habit his parents and grandparents embroidered in his brain, like silver thread on fine silk, that he was trying to get rid of since he started college. You wore nothing that indicated you were either from old or new money, nothing that said anything about your family name or bloodline, and no jewelry that looked like you inherited your great-great grandmother’s jewels that were gifted to her by a Prince. You were ordinary - quite possibly one of the only ordinary people he’s met thus far at this school.

Yes, you were nothing special material-wise, but you were pain-painstakingly stunning. How was that possible? Maybe it was your cute nose, or your pink lips, or the adorable way your brow quirked that caught his attention. Your curious eyes met his wide ones, sending his heart up to his throat, stopping him from breathing. It took him a minute to realize you had your hand out, waiting for him to connect. Quickly and awkwardly, he took your hand in his and felt his heart drop back into his chest cavity. But now he was sweating.

The effect you had on him was dangerous.

“Nice to meet you,” you said politely for the sake of Felix’s plea. The boy only nodded silently, trying not to look too affected by your infectious, beautiful smile. Great, another weirdo, you thought. Why were all the rich kids in this school so fucking weird!? Maybe it was your fault for accepting a scholarship to one of the country’s most expensive schools.

“Here’s the belt you requested.” Felix pulled out the belt a unicorn vomited on and handed it to Chan, who had snapped out of his trance. Your disgusted look doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he’s afraid you’re judging his choice in accessories. He wondered what kind of style you liked if you didn’t like this belt because all the upperclassmen born into old money that had girls falling on their knees had this belt. He’d have to ask Felix some other time.

“Thanks, dude. Mom said if I didn’t have Versace to wear at the charity event this weekend that she’d write me out of her will.”

So dramatic, you thought. You didn’t want to listen to boys talk about what pieces of clothing they had that cost more than tuition, so you sat back down and went back to studying.

“You owe me. Don’t get any champagne stains on it. And I better not see any wrinkles or stretches in the leather.”

“Yes, Dad. I can’t believe you let me borrow this. What are you gonna wear then?”

“I don’t know, something vintage probably, but I’ll figure it out. Got a date?”

“That’s requirement number two in order to stay in Mom’s will. I’m bringing Sana. What about you?”

“I’d rather go stag than bring some clingy arm candy to a simple charity fashion show. Unless _____ wants to be my date ~?”

“I’d rather die than be your arm candy,” you snorted.

To your dismay, Felix ruffled your hair playfully. “She hates it when I talk about this stuff. Don’t tell anyone I’m not bringing a date or else I’ll get kicked out, they’ll figure it out once I get there.”

“Gotcha. I’ll see you then.” After their bro handshake, Chan mustered up the courage to say, “It was nice meeting you, _____.”

“Nice meeting you,” you said in a sickly-sweet tone.

He saw right through you - you didn’t like him. He’s not sure why, when you barely talked to him for those two minutes he was there. Was he being too weird when you shook hands? Maybe he was talking too much about the show, since Felix mentioned you hated those kinds of talks, but why? Surely, you had to be used to this kind of stuff, right? Really, it shouldn’t bother him so much to know you didn’t like him already, but that famous Bang Pride coursed through his veins because everyone loved Bang Chan! It didn’t help that even knowing he didn’t need your attention, he was still so intrigued by you. To have those feelings not be reciprocated for the first time, to have you not eyeing him like you wanted him so badly, to you being completely disinterested at the simple mention of a high-class charity event that everyone was attending… It was exciting.

He accepted the challenge. He was going to win you over, whether you liked it or not.

“So what’d you think about Chan? He’s not so bad, right?” Felix asked before snatching up the last madeleine.

“He’s a little weird.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why, though...”

“You mean he’s not a space case all the time?”

“Not at all. If anything, he’s the one with the most confidence and focus out of our group of friends. Usually, people become a space case because of HIS presence, never the other way around. Did you cast a spell on him, or something?”

“I must have if I got one of your cocky millionaire friends to fall silent. I can feel the power in my veins.”

“Hey man, you better not flaunt that big ass head of yours. If word gets out that Chan was like that around a lil ol’ ordinary Olivia like yourself, you could be in big trouble.”

“You never warned me like this when it was Changbin. What makes Chan different?”

“Chan’s wealth has a long history. Like, really long. Almost pre-1800s long. His great-great-great-grandmother was one of the most well-regarded doctors in the country in her time. She was very well-off with the money she made, lived happily on her own, did her duty as a citizen and helped heal the soldiers during some war, and captured the heart of one of the most honored war heroes. Chan’s fortune began with a doctor and a war hero who gave birth to some inventor guy who married a luxury hotel heiress, whose history of wealth even I can’t trace back, and gave birth to the hotel heir that expanded its locations to eighteen different countries who then married the founder of a children’s charity, much to everyone’s surprise, and they gave birth to Chan’s grandmother, the sole heiress to the number one luxury hotel chain in the world. His Mom, who is currently sits at the head of the charity organization, is next in line. Then Chan gets to lead the organization until he inherits the hotels.”

Your brain struggled to wrap around Chan’s pedigree. “So he’s rich just like the rest of you.”

“Yeah, but he’s filthy rich. He’s been the Asia'’s most eligible bachelor under twenty-five twice in a row. What I’m saying is Chan is probably the number one most sought after guy slash son-in-law right now, and if anyone knows he’s taken even the slightest interest in you, they’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you two don’t happen.”

Well, that was terrifying. “God, this sounds like Cinderella on steroids. You better make sure we don’t happen!”

“I refuse to mess with fate, so this is all on you, babe.”

The F in Felix stood for Fake Friend.

Chan couldn’t find anything about you.

Google told him nothing, your social media showed him zilch, hell even his family private investigator only got as far as your great-grandparents owned a restaurant together which your grandfather and then your father happily took over. Really, he should have known from the start when he saw your clothes and lack of jewels that you didn’t come from the same background as him or Felix. This only made you more interesting.

After his thorough research on your social media and accidentally hitting the ‘add friend’ button (to which he shut his laptop and refused to look at the app for at least twenty-four hours out of pure embarrassment), you added him back only a couple hours later and he couldn’t stop the goofy smile growing on his lips. He felt like a little kid with a crush on his classmate! Your pictures were very silly, but you were still so pretty, and your captions were goofy with a touch of your wit peaking through and God, Chan had never been so struck by someone before, let alone by someone whose family history didn’t have their own Wikipedia page.

He needed to get to know you - to pick your brain, figure out your taste, and see that smile again. He needed to.

Poor Felix had to deal with texts like this:

issa banger [11:03 am]: wyd

yung felix [11:05 am]: eating lunch, why?

issa banger [11:06 am]: is _____ with you?

yung felix [11:09 am]: ??????????? no, why??

issa banger [11:09 am]: Read at 11:09 am.

And this:

issa banger [9:23 pm]: is that _____ in your snapchat?

yung felix [9:26 pm]: yeah u creep, we’re studying.

issa banger [9:32 pm]: what a coincidence, me too! i’m coming over.

yung felix [9:55 pm]: oop, she just left.

issa banger [9:47 pm]: ………..…. well i’m already here, so open the door.

And most recently this:

issa banger [2:15 am]: she’z sooiioioo cute felix…………

yung felix [2:17 am]: oh my god can u shut the fuck up.

This was all within one week of meeting you! Felix had to end this. He had never seen such a sad, desperate, puppy-loving side of Chan before, it was disgusting! What happened to the ‘I-don’t-care-about-love-I’ll-just-fuck-around-for-now-because-I’ll-probably-be-arranged-to-be-married-and-have-a-mistress-on-the-side-before-I’m-thirty’ Chan he knew since they were in diapers!? And like, no offense to you, but Chan was like this because of you, of all people, who came from a working-class family. The Bangs were groomed to date and marry only the best, so you two would never work out for even a day if it even got that far. But whatever, if meeting you again was all it took for Chan to stop bothering him, then so be it. You might kill him later for setting this up, but he’ll take the fall - anything to get his filthy rich and lonely friend to stop breathing down his neck.

fungus [5:43 pm]: hey u at the coffee shop?

you [5:57 pm]: yeah why?

fungus [6:01 pm]: i told chan to drop off The Versace Barocco-Print Belt with u if that’s cool

you [6:02 pm]: uuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh fine

fungus [6:05 pm]: thanks bro.

fungus [6:06 pm]: play nice ~ he’s a cool guy.

On cue, the ever-so handsome, front cover of GQ magazine, most eligible bachelor under twenty-five who added you on social media at three in the morning last week walked through the door. Again, he didn’t wear anything that stood out or any brands you didn’t recognize, so he didn’t necessarily look like he had any type of money Felix had informed you the first time, but the way he walked made up for it. Back straight, broad shoulders that swayed, chest out and peaking through the white satin button-up that was buttoned too low, flexed jaw and pursed lips that said ‘move, bitch’, and his expensive dress shoes that clicked and echoed on the floor, drawing the attention of everyone in the cafe. He may not have dressed to stand out, but that didn’t matter because he drew everyone’s attention anyways.

He paid no mind to everyone else because all of his attention was on you. The second he laid eyes on you was when his annoyed expression melted into a mix of something sweet and thankful.

“_____,” he greeted simply in his honey voice. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hi,” you said casually. “Likewise. Do you have the world’s ugliest belt with you?”

He chuckled lightheartedly, which sounded more like a cute giggle. “Is it really that ugly?”

“Too avant garde, if you ask me.”

Chan invited himself to a seat next to you. When you didn’t object or look noticeably disgusted by his presence, he took it as a sign that you welcomed his company. One foot through the door. “I’ll have you know it was a hit last weekend.”

“I’m sure anything you wear is a hit, even if it is something so atrocious.”

“It’s called couture.”

“I suppose my taste isn’t as high-class compared to your couture.”

“What is your taste?”

“I don’t think the lack of zeros in my bank account qualify me to answer this question.”

Another silky laugh escaped his curled lips. _____, stop looking there! “You don’t need to have a lot of money to know or have good taste.”

“There’s a whole world of clothing, food, and architecture that I didn’t know about before meeting Felix, so the expanse of my knowledge when it comes to a taste of anything isn’t as vast as those who do have a butt-load of money.”

“Even so, I happen to like your style.”

You did that cute little brow quirk he liked so much. “My t-shirt and jeans? You’re kidding, right?”

“What? I’m wearing a shirt and jeans, too.”

“Your shirt is made from the finest silk China could afford and mine is a mix of cotton and polyester.”

“Close enough. At least our jeans match.” Chan placed the belt free of champagne stains and leather wrinkles on the table. “Here’s your favorite belt of art that’s been passed around our friend group like a blunt.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait to hold something that’s touched nine millionaires’ crotches.”

“I bet,” he teased. “You look busy, so I’ll leave you alone.”

Normally, you’d be more than happy to bid a man farewell, but something came over you. “Actually, I’m not. Are you busy?”

“Me? No, why?”

“I’m kind of hungry. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Chan had to stop his grin from growing. He couldn’t look too excited, or that would creep you out. And to think he doubted himself about winning you over. You even beat him to asking you out! “I’d love to. I know the perfect place.”

“I’m sure you know this by now from my impeccable style but please choose somewhere affordable.”

“This place is cheap, I promise.”

“Like two dollar signs on Yelp cheap?”

“One.”

“Now you’re talking my language, Mr. Chan.”

He’ll talk all your ‘languages’ - your food language, your money language, your love language - he’ll come to know all of them like the back of his hand.

Despite picking a place to eat for the both of you to enjoy without denting your bank account, Chan ended up paying for both of your meals with his black metal credit card.

“Hey, why’d you do that!?” you whined.

“I never let my friends pay when they’re with me.”

“Well, I’m not one of your money-hungry friends! I have pride and dignity! This means I owe you a meal next time.”

“Ok, it’s a date.”

Chan was making his way towards the door before you could fully process the exchange. A date? Oh God, was tonight’s dinner a date!? No way, right…? Out the door, you saw him chuckle at how confused your face must have looked and he ushered you with his hand to hurry and follow.

Smooth move, Mr. Chan… I’ll let that one slide.

two years ago:

Falling for Chan was effortless. After dinner the night he returned Felix’s belt, spending time together happened so frequently that you didn’t even notice how fast you were falling. You hate to sound cliche, but Chan wasn’t like all the other rich kids within their massive social circle. He didn’t flaunt his worth, he didn’t judge you for your lack thereof, nor was he some dumb ass kid going to school to just party and hook up every other night.

Chan was kind. He’d always put your needs above his, like wanting to pay him back for all the food he’d buy, but that got hard to keep up with real fast. He never wanted you to pay him back in the first place, but if buying him a cup of coffee would make you happy, then so be it. He’d always walk you back to your dingy apartment after dinner or drive you home in his blacked-out Ferarri after studying at the library so late because he worried about you walking alone in the dark. You fell faster on the days you were sick and he’d stop by with the best chicken soup in the city, packets of fragrant teas to chase the Nyquil, and the fancy tissues with vapor rub and soothing lotion. But he must do these kinds of things with all of his friends, because that’s the kind of person he was.

Chan was intelligent. He told you about his childhood spent in private schools with private tutors while playing sports and instruments and learning multiple languages and if he didn’t rank in the top 5% every year, he got his ass handed to him by his mother (fourth year of high school was rough). What amazed you even more was how he retained all of the languages and talent.

“I took five years of Spanish and I can speak at a child’s level,” you pouted. “How the hell do you know seven languages!?”

“Gotta learn the languages of where the hotels are located, y’know?”

“Of course…”

Chan was passionate. Not just about the charity work his family does, not just about the hotel business, but every little thing that interested him sparked a little fire inside. Chan put his mind, body, and soul into all his projects, his work, and everything he ever cared about. When he’s focused and has a goal in mind, he won’t stop until he gets it done and the execution is perfect. You thought it was kind of hot - the way his pupils dilated, the satisfied smirk after completing something, the dangerous little sparkle in his eyes… So hot.

It was the little things that solidified his place in your heart. All the times he tucked your hair behind your ears, when his hand was on the small of your back to guide you, and when his breath tickled your ear when he leaned in close to whisper were all little catalysts to your already-aching heart that beats for him.

What were you to do? You, a simple woman growing up nowhere near his and Felix’s type of lifestyle. You didn’t have diamond-encrusted pacifiers, or ten maids and nannies, or a yacht that you got on your eighteenth birthday. You lived a simple teenage and young adult life that you wouldn’t change for the world, yet you fell for someone who had everything served to him on silver platters and fine china. You thought that there was no way you two could ever work even if he reciprocated your feelings.

But he didn’t see you as the simple woman you saw in the mirror. He saw the extraordinary, goofy, diligent, beautiful you all the time. Your background or financial status didn’t matter to him. The way you smiled at him mattered; the way your hand lingered on his arm a little longer after you hit him for something funny he said mattered; the dreamy look in your eyes that you had whenever you looked at him mattered. Nothing else mattered.

“Why do you always look at me like that?” he asked you one evening while hanging out on his massive penthouse porch.

“Like what?”

“With your wide eyes and that soft little smile that breaks all the boys’ hearts,” he teased. “Did I do something? Am I that sexy?”

“Shut up,” you blushed. “I’m just thinking about how it’s weird being friends with you.”

“Why weird?”

“I don’t know. I’m not used to being around all of this.” Your arms widened to showcase Chan’s apartment that was at least ten times the size of yours.

“Ah, you mean my butt load of money. Even after two years of being The Dynamic Duo?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. I just feel out of place, you know? I see the way some of your other friends look at me. It shouldn’t bother me so much, but I can’t help it. I feel like I don’t have the prerequisites to be your friend.”

“Who’s looking at you funny? Is it Bambam? I’ll kick his ass -”

“Stop, don’t kick your friends’ asses.”

“They just haven’t gotten to know the wonderful, thoughtful, dumb ass _____ yet.” Chan pulled you into a tight bro-like hug and ruffled your hair like a little kid to mask his rapidly-beating heart. “Don’t pay attention to them. You should know by now I don’t care about money.”

“But -”

“None of that about you matters to me, ok? Only you matter.”

You learned by now to not be affected by his poetic words, but tonight you fell back into your old habits. Only you mattered to him - that felt good. Feeling defeated by your dumb feelings, but comforted at the same time, you lazily wrapped your arms around Chan’s tiny waist as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“You’re so corny,” you muttered.

He ruffled your hair once more. “Only for you.”

It was then you thought to yourself that maybe this could work. Maybe falling for him wasn’t a mistake and being together wasn’t so far-fetched and being loved was something obtainable. For the first time, you thought having Chan by your side wasn’t as ridiculous as it seemed.

But of course, it wasn’t that simple. Nothing was simple when it came to Bang Chan. It was always out of the ordinary. Extraordinary. The night you realized you and him would never be was the same night you witnessed what life was like when you could drown in your own gold and jewels.

“Singapore?” you repeated to your two Aussie friends incredulously. “You’re going to Singapore just for the weekend?”

“We’re going to Singapore,” Chan corrected.

Felix called you and said to come over immediately because it was an emergency, which was Felix talk for ‘I have a trip in a couple of days and I need you to help me pick out my outfits.’ Really, you never actually helped with the picking process, he just wanted you there to tell him he looked good. So as usual, you sat in one of his oriental-style bright red cushioned chairs that were placed on both ends of the ten-by-ten foot mirror in his massive walk-in closet and Chan stood next to you, wondering how you ever put up with Felix’s outfit changes. Tonight wasn’t the usual packing agenda when they broke the news to you that yes, you were definitely joining them on a weekend trip to Singapore for Choi San’s birthday this weekend.

“I can’t afford that!” you screeched. “I can’t just book a flight and a hotel like this on the spot!”

“Oh, _____, you’re so cute ~” Felix teased, adjusting the collar on his shirt. “Like hell am I going to let us fly like the locals. We’re using my Dad’s private jet and staying in Chan’s private Black and White bungalow, of course. And none of us have to pay a dime.”

“But I don’t even know San like that.”

“You will this weekend. C’mon, it’ll be so much fun! It’s going to be the party of the century! He always throws the most extra parties.”

“Even if I did want to go, I don’t have the clothes for it. I don’t own anything high-end like you guys. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I already got that covered.” With his shirt half-buttoned, Felix ran to the other side of the closet to open a door you had never seen before. Inside of his bedroom, which held a 500 square foot closet, held a smaller 300 square foot closet. A closet within a closet - closet-ception, if you will. You didn’t have to go inside to see all the crystal-embroidered tulle gowns and the silkiest shirts that hung on black velvet hangers. “My older sister keeps her clothes here sometimes so Dad doesn’t see it. Just borrow some of her stuff.”

“I can’t just take her clothes!”

“Actually, she already picked out the ones she thinks would look best on you,” Felix showed you her incoming text messages as proof that one, you definitely had her permission to wear whatever you’d like and two, she thought you looked best in Valentino.

“Ooh, Valentino ~ I agree,” Chan piped in.

“I don’t know…” you hesitated. You could handle Felix and Chan and their riches when it was just the two of them, but to be surrounded by hundreds of people who had the same kinds of bank accounts? And you, floating among them in clothing that wasn’t even yours, faking your way into the social circle? It sounded like a suicide mission.

“You’ll have one of us by your side the whole time, we promise. We want you to meet our friends and show you that not all rich people are assholes like our parents.” Chan stuck out his lower lip and clasped his hands together like a kid begging for some ice cream. “Please come?”

Felix joined in with the begging and now you have two golden retriever puppies begging you to go on what should be a multi-million dollar vacation for the weekend with them, dressed to the nines twenty-four seven. You had to be crazy to not immediately scream yes, but the whole idea of this weekend was just terrifying. But you’d be with Chan, vacationing in a beautiful country, with him by your side. You couldn’t pass this opportunity up.

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat.

“Yes! Ooh, this weekend is going to be so much fun! Hey, we should all match for the party! _____, I know exactly what you should wear -”

Chan snickered at the excited boy pulling out piles and piles of clothes to dress his new life-size doll. You already deeply regretted your decision.

As Felix held up pastel-colored tulles and jewel-toned satins up to your body in front of the ridiculously-sized mirror, Chan couldn’t help but fantasize about the weekend. He already had it all planned out - you would take the front seat in his cherry-red convertible and breathe in the clean Singaporean air with the biggest smile on your face as you all pulled up to his Black and White bungalow, your eyes would widen at the decor, you’d claim the bedroom right next to his, you’d take tons of pictures and capture every moment together, eat the foods he grew up with when he spent his summers here, and then party ‘til the sun rose. You’d look so beautiful in whatever Felix chose, and you’d link arms with him like you two were together. Then you’d dance, drink, and laugh the night away in his arms for hours. Felix would probably stray away to find some poor soul to bother and that’s when it’d be just the two of you. When the party was too much to handle or the alcohol was too strong, he’d walk you home. If you were stumbling over little bumps, he’d pick you up and carry you the whole three blocks distance and you’d be so cute and giggly that he, too, couldn’t help but laugh because the warmth of your blushing cheek pressed against his made his heart ecstatic. Once you arrive home, he’d take you to the backyard and you two would stargaze or watch the sun rise, depending on how late you came home. You’d start out with some space in between. Then he’d get closer. Then he’d brush his hands against yours. Then he’d hold them, fingers laced loosely at first, hoping you’d squeeze back tightly. Finally, he’d confess that after two years of knowing you, he’s fallen for you harder every single day since he met you at the coffee shop. If you felt the same, then perfect, the night would end with a soft kiss. If you didn’t, he’ll run to the pier and sail his yacht all the way back home and claim he was blackout drunk, or something.

Yeah, that sounded like a solid plan. What could go wrong?

It was six in the morning when you were dragged out of bed and thrown into Chan’s Ferrari. Felix’s private jet only had you, him, and Chan as passengers. You thought for something as big as a damn plane that maybe the whole friend group would be tagging along, but apparently they insisted on flying on their own and leaving a larger carbon footprint, but hey you weren’t surprised in the least. That just meant less arguing over what to watch on the eighty-inch flat screen and more champagne for the three of you.

“Holy shit,” you muttered after taking the middle seat in front of the television.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Felix boasted, hopping on the seat to your left. “Have I not introduced you to JASMINE before?”

“I think I’d remember if I’ve been on your private jet before.”

“Ah, maybe I’m remembering the time you went on my yacht, ROSEMARY.”

Chan joined in to your left with a handful of flute glasses filled with bubbly, golden champagne and a single raspberry at the bottom for you and Felix. He raised his glass in celebration. “Cheers to the weekend.”

“It’s six thirty in the morning,” you groaned tiredly.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“You can’t keep using that excuse, Chan, your liver will fail you one day.”

“A wise man once said YOLO, my dearest _____, so let’s drink to that!”

“Ugh… cheers,” After taking a sip, your face twisted sourly. “Oh, that’s not good…”

“It’s terrible, but it gets the job done.”

“You’re both crazy, I love this stuff,” Felix said, chugging the whole glass. “Forget water, make sure only champagne and 1738 course through my veins for the next two days.”

For the duration of the six hour flight, the three of you watched one horror movie (to which Felix cowered under his fluffy monogrammed blanket) and one romantic comedy (to which Felix cried while holding his Rilakkuma bear). Then after the smoothest plane landing you’ve ever experienced, you finally landed in the beautiful country of Singapore. The skies were so blue, the skyline was gorgeous, hell even the airport was voted the most beautiful airport in the world. A red convertible pulled up to the three of you waiting at the arrivals section and the driver tossed Chan the car keys. As the driver put your luggage in the back of a separate car, Chan opened the passenger seat open for you like a gentleman.

“Your chariot awaits, my darling,” he smiled cheekily. “Her name is Cherie.”

“Do all rich people name their motor vehicles?”

“Of course, it’s only right.”

The crisp afternoon air felt good flowing between your fingers. Chan caught glimpses of your smile and knew then that inviting you to this weekend was the best decision he’s made concerning you. His plan was going swimmingly thus far - now to survive the next couple days.

The Black and White house was quite literally a Black and White house, but it was nothing close to being monotonous. It was a beautiful symmetrical white bungalow with black trimming and a tanned overhanging roof. All of the shutter-style windows were wide open, allowing the same beautiful breeze to pass through the house, wafting the smell of fresh scones and muffins as you walked through the door. The inside of the house got more extravagant with every step you took. The walls were all white (porcelain white, not daisy, of course), the tiles a glossy pearl, every corner filled with the greenest potted plants and too many antique potteries to count, high ceilings with a crystal chandelier dropping in the living room, and a deep mahogany wood door that led to the backyard that overlooked the entire city.

“You vacationed here in the summer!?” you gasped.

“Yup, every year.”

“It’s beautiful!”

“You should see Changbin’s bungalow,” Felix interjected. “He demanded the house to be repainted black instead of the classic white.”

“My childhood summers were spent on my grandparent’s farm. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to wake up every morning to freshly-made scones and fruit jam.”

Chan led you up the stairs to show you the bedrooms. You lost count of how many there were by the time you got to his. His room was enormous, with a king-sized bed right in the middle covered in the fluffiest white covers. He had his guitar and other music-related toys on one wall of the room with a soft yellow neon sign that said ‘CB97’ mounted high on the wall with posters beside it. His room was decorated very Chan-like, and you thought it was quite charming.

“I didn’t like being by my siblings, so I asked to get the one at the very end and the spares were used whenever Felix and the guys came over. Felix’s is across the hall and your’s is the one next door.”

“Ah yes, Chan’s room - where all the magic happened,” Felix teased, jumping on the bed. “I’ve heard way too many stories about the girls you’d take up here -”

“Ah ha ha ~! No need to relive that!” Chan blushed deeply.

“You’re suddenly shy about it now? You sure didn’t have any problem boasting about it every summer.”

“That was so long ago.”

“Please, two years was not that long ago. Didn’t you come her last year, too? God, who knows what happened then.”

Your heart sunk. So he’s taken girls up here before. A lot of girls, according to Felix, and by the way Chan blushed from embarrassment, he wasn’t denying it, either. It wasn’t right for you to feel jealous, you didn’t even know him during those times, unless he had a fling last summer that no one knew about. No, it definitely wasn’t right for you to feel jealous, but the burning in your chest was a little difficult to ignore at one in the afternoon.

“Gross,” you say as light-heartedly as you could. You left sourly without another word to unpack your belongings.

Fuck. Damn Felix and his big ass mouth! You probably thought he was a disgusting playboy now. This was one of several things Chan was afraid of when you were introduced to this side of his life - that his scandalous, rebellious past would come back to haunt him and hit you in the face and you’d be so turned off by it. Well, that’s exactly what happened, not one hour on the island. He couldn’t help that he was a horny teenager back then! Chan chucked one of the embroidered silk pillows at his cowering childhood friend before hastily following you.

You held up a jewel-toned satin piece that Felix chose from his sister’s closet. It was different than the one chosen a couple of nights ago (“_____, I change my mind, wear this one instead.” “Wha - Felix, we’re leaving in ten minutes!” “Just trust me!”), but Chan thought this one suited you much better. The look on your face said you thought otherwise.

“Not a fan of Valentino?” he teased.

“Quite the opposite. I think it’s beautiful, it’s just I don’t think it’ll look beautiful on me.”

“Nonsense. You look beautiful in anything.”

“There’s no need to lie.”

“Who’s lying? You look especially dashing in t-shirt and jeans.”

“My impeccable sense of style,” you giggled. “Is the party tonight really going to be this fancy? Isn’t it just a house party?”

“My dear _____, it’s not just any house party, it’s the house party,” Chan corrected. “San owns the biggest Black and White bungalow in the country. He decks it out to the max with unnecessary decorations, hires Singapore’s multi-Michelin star restaurants to cater, ships in expensive wines and spirits, and hires those exotic dancers that hang from the ceiling. San’s parties make international headlines, and this one’s extra special because it’s his birthday, so yes, fancy is just an understatement.”

“Yeah, I really don’t belong here…”

“Don’t worry about it for now. What we need to worry about is lunch, ‘cuz I’m starving.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be with Jisung and Changbin until the party. I’ll just see you guys there,” Felix waved off casually.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” Chan hoped he didn’t look too glad Felix was gone. “I want to take you to a restaurant I always ate at in the summer.”

“How many dollar signs on Yelp?”

“Not telling ‘cuz I’m paying.”

“Chan, you ass, you said you’d make things even from now on!”

“A man just wants to fly his friend to a whole new country and treat her to his favorite restaurant, is that too much to ask for!?”

You didn’t answer while following a happy-go-lucky, skippy Chan to his red convertible. You’ve never seen him so happy before. He must have missed being on the soil that held his summer-y childhood memories. Being in the hot sticky sun in the house he loved the most with the widest, dimple-iest smile on his cute lips let you know that Chan was at home. Spending every moment with him for the next two days watching his smile grow as he revisited memory lane would make it hard for your heart to stop fluttering.

It was no more than a ten minute drive from his house, but from where you parked, you couldn't spot any restaurants.

"It's a bit of a hole in the wall. I hope you don't mind walking a bit."

"Not at all! The best places to eat are always hidden well."

The surrounding area reminded you of the more crowded and space-efficient parts of home. The buildings were all kind of squished together with tiny alleys in between and there was a ton of foot traffic, but it was probably because it was the weekend. You almost lost track of Chan until he grabbed onto your hand and guided you through the sea of locals.

"It's a little overwhelming if you haven't been here before," he said apologetically. "It's worth the journey, I promise."

"You used to come here a lot over the summer?"

"Almost every day. The woman who runs the place was like another grandmother to me. She is the sweetest thing. Oh, there she is!"

Chan sharply turned the corner of the street and you were taken to a whole other dimension. It reminded you of the beginning scene in Spirited Away when Chihiro and her parents stumbled upon the empty street filled with different tents of food, only this time you couldn't even see past the second tent. Even in the daytime, a place like this seemed so magical that it was no wonder a kid wanted to come here everyday. The different spices and aromas marinated in the air and it was so heavenly, you couldn't wait to get a bite! Somewhere in the middle, the tent that Chan had been dying to go to all year round was right where he left it.

"Auntie!" Chan called from the back of the endless line.

"Eh?" A cute little woman with a floral bandanna and red apron squinted in your direction. The second she saw Chan's handsome face, her grumpy expression smoothed to that of a grandma seeing her grandson grow so much in just a single year. "Channie! You're back for the summer!?"

"Just for the weekend, auntie."

She didn't miss a single beat as she continued to serve her loyal customers. "Ah, you're too busy to visit me everyday now, huh?"

"Sadly, yes," he pouted.

"You want the usual, Channie?"

"Yes, please! Can you make that two?"

"Eh?" Again, the little woman squinted in your direction. Chan had let go of your hand and placed them on your shoulder, indicating that you were his guest of honor this afternoon. A teasing twinkle gleamed in her youthful eyes. "Ah, I see ~"

Chan didn't deny her teasing. He didn't say, 'nah, it's not like that' or say 'she's just a friend'. Instead, he hung his head down embarrassingly, his grin not faltering, neither yours. You wondered what he was thinking.

The line was long, but it moved quickly when Chan was by your side telling you stories of his childhood spent with Felix and his other friends making a ruckus in the streets and buying up all the meat skewers until not a single shop had any left.

"Jeez, growth spurt much?"

"Hey, a man's gotta eat, ok?"

Finally, it was your turn in line, and the Queen of the shop already had two plates full of noodles slathered in a dark, sweet-smelling sauce and two large styrofoam cups.

"Channie never ate anything else besides my kway teow noodles,” Auntie told you. “The first few years of eating it as a little boy, he thought there were no vegetables, so I never told him there were any because it was the only way he'd eat them - covered in my special sauce.”

"No need to relive my unhealthy childhood…" he muttered while you laughed.

"It's fine now, since you've grown up to be so~o handsome!" she pinched his chubby cheek. "Finally, you have yourself a girlfriend. 'Bout time! Even San beat you! But that’s no surprise, the ladies love that bad boy."

"O-Oh, we're not…!" you stuttered nervously, unable to finish your sentence. She really was like an embarrassing auntie…

"We're not together like that," Chan concluded. “She’s just a close friend.”

She scoffed incredulously. "Yeah, for now."

"Auntie!"

She ignored her favorite customer’s whining and turned to you once more. “Watch out for this playboy, he’ll be hard to tie down.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Chan needed to get you out of there before any more of his past was brought up. So much for his stellar, fool-proof plan. He handed Auntie what looked to be a lot of money, but you’re not sure what the conversion is to their dollar. A quick kiss on her cheek and he whisked you away. “Bye, Auntie! Love you!”

“Visit me more often, you stingy brat! And by, sweetheart, it was nice meeting you!” she called out sweetly.

Chan hastily grabbed one of the wooden benches just outside of the long street of vendors. He seemed quite relieved to have left his favorite food stand before Auntie revealed too much of the past summers. Your feelings clashed with a sense of jealousy and a bit of pride that she thought you were his girlfriend. Yet again did you have to remind yourself that no, _____, you cannot be jealous, you dumb ass!

“Sorry about that,” Chan sighed. “She doesn’t have a filter.”

“I like her. She’s very spunky,” you laughed. “Does she do that to all the girls you bring to her?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“It seems like she’s met a few of them.”

“I’ve told her stories, but I’ve never brought any of them to this place. Now that I think about it, you’re the first girl I’ve brought to her. That’s probably why she thinks we’re serious.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You took your first bite of the savory-sweet noodles. It’s chewy, glutenous gold. “Holy shit.”

“Crazy good, right? Auntie makes them the best. And you’re asking why I never brought anyone else here?” You nodded silently, too preoccupied stuffing your face with Chan’s childhood favorite dish. “This place holds a special part of my childhood. I can’t just bring anyone here.”

“What’s makes it so special?” You took a sip from the styrofoam cup. It’s sugarcane juice!

“When I was a kid, I didn’t come here to bask in the sunlight and play at the beach all day. I’d go to summer school during the day where I was taught math and economics at least two grades ahead of me and attend Mom’s business and charity meetings in the evening. I was always so tired, no matter what time of day it was. One time, I was being so bratty and was crying so much from all the unwanted stress and my parents didn’t like it because I’m supposed to be the Charity Chairman’s perfect son and the perfect heir to the hotel franchise, you know? But I just wanted to be a kid. My family got so mad at me for being selfish that they kicked me out of the house for the night without dinner and I couldn’t come back until the morning.”

“That’s crazy! Where did you sleep!?”

“The pool house behind the main house,” he stated obviously.

“Oh, of course. Silly me.”

He threw his crumpled-up napkin at you before continuing. “That’s when I met Auntie. I was crying and wailing and sobbing like a baby on a Wednesday evening, so it wasn’t busy and no one really saw me. I sat at this very bench with my head down crying until I could fall asleep because I really didn’t want to return home. Then I felt someone nudge me awake. It was Auntie, and she gave me a bowl of curry with some paratha and I thought, ‘an old lady wouldn’t try to poison me, right?’ So I inhaled that whole bowl and chugged all of the chocolate Milo. I tried paying her with all the cash I had because I was so thankful, and she couldn’t believe a young kid like me had so much in the first place, but she never took it. I came every week to order from her and she remembered me every time. I tried everything on the menu by my tenth visit, and the kway teow is my favorite. I’d come here after a rough day with my parents, after I failed an exam, after I cried over some girl I had a crush on, after I found out my Dad had a mistress, you name it. Sometimes I came for no reason at all - I just didn’t want to be home.”

A shaky sigh escaped Chan’s lips. His eyes were glossy and it broke your heart to see Chan on the brink of tears, but he’s smiling. His upbringing was rough, but he’s smiling because he wouldn’t have survived his childhood without the spunky woman behind the food stand in the middle of the street. You dared to reach across the table and hold his hand, hoping he’d find some comfort in your touch. He does, and you know so by the way he squeeze it back so tightly. There were no more tears in his eyes.

“This place was my secret hideout for a good chunk of my life. I can’t just bring anyone here.” Chan began to trace little circles on the back of your hand.

“What am I if I’m not just anyone?”

“Special,” he replied. “To me, you’re special.”

The air was filled with your cute giggles and you took your hand back to cover your blushing, glowing face. Chan always had a way with words. “You’re a cornball!”

“I’ll have you know that the ladies love cornballs!”

“Not this one.”

“Oh, hold still, you got a little of the dark sauce on your cheek.” Chan leaned over the table with a napkin in his hand as you sat still. The very last second, he drops the napkin, scooped up a hefty dollop on his finger, and smeared it on your cheek.

“EW!”

“That’s what you get!”

Your special man began running to the car with you on his tail laughing like two young lovers on their honeymoon. Both of you failed to see someone taking pictures as they sent them to San’s entire guest list.

“Bro, you look hot.”

You jumped at Felix’s comment and chuck a pillow at his almost-shirtless torso. He had a weird habit of not buttoning up his shirts until the last minute. One of his many idiosyncrasies.

“Chill, that’s a compliment! Didn’t I pick out a hot Valentino piece? Chef kiss, m’lady.”

“You’re so gross… But you do have taste, so thank you. You really didn’t have to ask your sister to let me borrow this, though. I still feel terrible.”

“Shut up, you’re fine. She’s never going to wear that, I promise you. Besides, I can’t have someone not wearing designer stand next to me, that’d be blasphemous.”

“Can you please button up your shirt?”

“Why? These Hawaiian Sweet Rolls too much for you to handle?” he teased, flexing his six-pack. You dry heaved dramatically.

“You two are like siblings, it’s so funny - whoa,” Chan stopped mid-sentence, completely stunned by your presence. Of course he’d love how you looked if you wore a hoodie and jeans because he never even imagined you wearing something like this, but you blew him away.

“Good whoa or bad whoa?” you panicked.

“Definitely a good whoa… U-Uh, I mean, yeah. Yes.”

“Thank you,” you grinned. You eyed the man in the black and gold polka-dotted Muslin Yves Saint Laurent button up (buttoned too low, as usual) tucked loosely in Yves Saint Laurent cuffed trousers. Certainly, Chan was bound to be the center of attention at one point, regardless of whose birthday it was. Felix sported Louis tonight and you thought to yourself that you three were quite a sexy trio. “You two don’t look too bad yourselves.”

“Straight from the runway,” Felix boasted.

“Straight from my closet,” Chan shrugged.

“Can we get drunk before I cry about how much money I don’t have?”

Chan’s driver sported a white Rolls Royce to take you all there, despite it being only three blocks away (Felix was more than happy because he didn’t want to scuff his shoes). You thought you were fashionably late, but it turns out San was just showing off his cars and leaving them parked on the circular driveway. The size of his house made the cars look so, so tiny, but his house was truly enormous, way bigger than Chan’s. Couples among couples began to file in the house, making you feel nervous and very, very single.

“Do people usually bring a date to these parties?” you asked the boys.

“Yeah, for clout. Two shots later and suddenly everyone’s up for grabs,” Felix explained, walking up the driveway without waiting. “I’ll see y’all back at home. Or not. Don’t wait up for me ~”

When Chan saw that what Felix said didn’t lessen your nerves one bit, he held his arm out for you. “Wanna be my date for tonight?”

“You won’t ditch me after two shots?”

“Two, no. Five, maybe.”

How could you deny his dimpled grin? You couldn’t, so you slipped your arm through and walked into San’s palace. You were taken to a whole new world; a whole new dimension of luxury and riches that you only tapped into upon landing here. There was indeed dancers twirling on ribbons from the ceilings, loud music from some famous DJ that headlined at EDC, and liquor of every shade of gold in crystal glasses. Everything was so magnificent and expensive, it was like you couldn’t even afford to look at anything or even anyone. Everyone who was anyone was here, and you recognized a lot of their faces from Chan and Felix’s social media. You couldn’t even pronounce the brands they were wearing! Again, Chan sensed your anxiousness, something he was so unbelievably good at, and slipped his arm down so that he could grab on to your hand. He figured if you were able to let all his past worries go away by just holding his hand across the table that he could do the same, only this time he was by your side like he always wanted to be. You always predicted that his hand would fit so nicely in yours.

“CHAN! MI AMIGO!” San screamed into the mic from the dance floor. “Everyone, the sexiest bachelor of the hour has arrived!”

“Oh, boy,” he sighed.

He was surprised to hear you giggle at his friend’s nickname. “Looks like we came a little late.”

San stumbled in front of you before falling into your arms for a tight hug. You weren’t used to such an affectionate San - you shared multiple classes with him and you’re surprised he even remembered you, if you were being honest.

“Happy birthday, San,” you struggled to say as you held the boy up.

“Hi, _____! Thank you! I’m so glad you’re here!” San’s foxy eyes widened at the sight of his questioning friend. “Chan! I missed you!”

“Miss you, too, buddy,” he chuckled, hugging the sloppy man. “Happy birthday, bro. Making Mina work hard, I see.”

“Why, do you see her!? Don’t tell her you saw me!” And that was the last time you saw San.

Chan shook his head at his childhood friend. Then he took your hand and lead you deeper into the party. “Let’s go find people we actually know.”

As you slipped between the crowd, you felt eyes staring. A bunch of eyes, actually. A lot of them. The owners were mostly girls, ones you recognized, and that’s when you knew it was because of Chan, the bachelor of the century. They eyed you maliciously, switching between judging you from what you were wearing and your hold onto Chan’s hand. Where was that handsome waiter with a tray full of shots? You needed that right about now.

On cue, Chan handed you liquid gold. “Cheers to a fun night.”

“Right… Cheers.” Bottoms up! Oh God, that burned! But the warm finish was quite nice. “More, please.”

“Jeez, what for? You trying to leave me after two shots already?” he teased.

“No, I’m just trying to blind myself from all those… eyes…”

“Huh?” Chan caught a glimpse of what you meant when he caught the eyes of familiar flings and old friends. His jaw clenched. “Don’t worry about them, ok?”

“I’m trying, but you’re holding me back if I can’t take at least one more shot.” Reluctantly, your handsome date gave you what you wanted and he followed suit. “Bottoms up!”

Bottoms up indeed, several times too many, if Chan thought so himself. But you were loosening up and not worrying about another thing he feared about this trip - that you would meet his exes, or worse, they would do something to hurt you because that’s just what girls with tons of money do. He soon forgot about all his worries when you dragged him on the dance floor and had your body pressed up against his. You were so goofy and cute when you were drunk just by itself, singing to all the songs and taking silly selfies, but when you were dancing? He could hardly keep his hands off of you.

Chan pulled away and you pouted, not wanting the warmth of his body to leave even for one second, but he told you he had to go to the bathroom and that he’d be right back, so don’t you move! But your intoxicated self didn’t listen and you found yourself wandering to the backyard where Hyunjin, Woojin, and a bunch of people you were familiar with gathered around the open-pit fire and having a little party themselves.

“Did _____ get her Rich Bitch ID?” Hyunjin teased, looking at the label of your dress. “Shit, I guess she has.”

“It’s Felix’s sister’s, so no, it’s just a fake ID to last me the night.”

Woojin swung his arm around you boyishly. “You’re always welcome to OUR Rich Bitch club. No cover for girls,” he winked.

“How generous of you.”

Chan didn’t take long in the bathroom. He made sure to come back to you as quickly as possible to pick up where you left off, but after a couple of minutes searching the crowd, he couldn’t find you. He’s not surprised you wandered off somewhere, he just wished you sent him a text, or something. He felt a tap on his shoulder, thinking it was you, but it ended up being Sana, his old fling.

“Channie!” she squealed happily, throwing her arms around his neck. “I missed you ~!”

“Hey, I missed you, too,” he hugged back awkwardly. “Long time no see.”

“I’m glad the feeling’s mutual. Whatcha doing?”

“I’m just looking for someone…” he said, continuing to scan the crowd like she wasn’t there. He shouldn’t have drank so much…

“You mean _____?”

How did she know your name? Not important. “Oh, yeah. Have you seen her?”

“She’s outside with Woojin.”

“With Woojin…?”

“Yup! Take a look.”

Sana took Chan by the hand and lead him to the back door. His tunnel vision, though quite blurry, found you with your back facing the door and Woojin, his childhood rival, to your right, where he had his arm around your shoulder. Oh, he was such a Kim! He always snatched whatever was his when he wasn’t looking, just like that modelling contract! Normally, Chan would be the bigger person and not care, but this was you, someone so important to him. He couldn’t let this go that easily. There’s this uncharacteristic rage and jealousy that built up in his chest, making his heart hurt with every beat. You weren’t even doing anything, but seeing you in someone else’s arms just as he left for the damn bathroom? After trying to make you his for so long? It hurt. It really, really hurt...

Sana took the opportunity to pull him away from you. “Hey, let’s dance. Like we used to.”

Without hesitating, Chan took the lead and went to the dance floor.

Time passed like it meant nothing while you caught up with some good friends, but sobriety was kicking in at three in the morning and you wondered how long Chan needed to go to the bathroom.

“I’m going to find my damn date,” you waved off to them.

Even at three in the morning, the house was still as crowded as ever, bumping music like the sun wasn’t going to rise in a couple of hours. You searched every room, every face on the dance floor, near every waiter that had a platter of liquor on it, and he was nowhere to be seen! Even the rooms that held couples making out (and then some) luckily didn’t have him in it, but where could he be? You ended up in the front yard last, perhaps he was looking at San’s cars, or something.

But that wasn’t where you saw him. At the end of the driveway, where it met the main street, you saw Chan walking some girl dressed in diamonds and crystals on the way back to the house.

That was the moment you knew you and Chan could never be. Even when he was with you for ninety percent of the night, he chose someone else. He was made to live his life in luxury, and that meant his love life was meant for luxury, too. No matter what you did, no matter how much you thought he liked you, how much you thought you were special to him, you could never live up to any of these other women at this party. You were nothing compared to them because you had nothing. You should have known better than to think otherwise.

“Hey,” you heard someone behind you. It was the ever-so handsome and dashing Woojin. Even in the dead of night, he looked so handsome. “Did you find Chan?”

“Um…” your voice was shaking. “Yeah, I think I saw him go home.”

From the tears in your eyes, Woojin assumed he didn’t go home alone. Typical heart-breaker Chan, always leaving girls behind to cry over him. Things never change. “Do you want me to walk you back?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

You and Woojin walked the three blocks in silence. There was a considerable amount of space in between as Woojin figured you didn’t want any man to be near you at the moment. Of course he understood - he’s had a fair share of his heart-breaking days. Those days were now over because he was getting tired of this lifestyle. His liver didn’t function like when he was younger and he craved something deeper than just one night stands. God, he sounded like a total douche.

The walk up Chan’s porch made you nervous and made Woojin nostalgic. He remembered coming here everyday after summer school when he was a kid. He kind of missed it here. Woojin was about to knock on the door but stopped when he realized you weren’t beside him. You stood by step, not wanting to go any further.

“Everything ok?” Woojin asked.

“Yeah… No. Not really. I don’t want to go to bed.”

“Why not?”

“Our rooms are next to each other and I don’t know how thin the walls are.”

Woojin didn’t laugh nor try to convince you otherwise. Instead, he walked up to you and stopped so close that you could smell his Gucci The Voice of the Snake cologne. Then, he smiled sweetly, a trait of his that you always thought was so cute, and sat on the stairs.

He patted the seat next to him. “I’ll keep you company.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t want to go home and I really don’t want to go back to the party.” His bottom lip pouted. “Please let me keep you company.”

You could use the distraction. “Even without trying, rich people get whatever they want.”

“Hey, we’re not all bad!”

“That’s what they all say,” you slurred, remembering that’s exactly what Chan said earlier.

“Yeah, you’re right. We’re pretty bad.”

“Maybe I should stop hanging around you guys and start hanging around my people.”

“But I like hanging out with you.”

“You know, before I met Felix and Chan and all your little yacht club friends who make fun of me for the clothes I wear -”

“Hey, that’s just Hyunjin, don’t lump us together like that! I like you no matter what you’re wearing.”

“- my life was so much simpler! I lived a simple life without luxury, I ate foods without truffles and caviar, I drank cheap soju like a regular poor delinquent instead of champagne and top-shelf liquor, and I didn’t like boys whose yearly income were worth ten times as much as I’d make in ten years!” You cried out to the skies above and buried your face in your hands. “Biggie was right… Mo Money Mo Problems…”

“There there…” Woojin comforted awkwardly.

“Woojin, can you be honest with me for a sec? Coming from a sad, average girl seeking advice from a rich bitch like yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Was I stupid to think I was anything special to Chan?”

Again, the handsome man beside you wrapped his arm around your shoulder like a good friend. Woojin was always a good friend to you. Outside of Felix and Chan, he was the only other man who was kind, despite you not being like the rest of his social circle.

“You said I can be honest, right?” he asked nervously.

“Oh my God, I’m an idiot.”

“Hey, that’s not what I was going to say. I was thinking naive was more of an appropriate word choice.”

“I’m so dumb, I might as well drop out.”

Woojin’s grip around you tightened. “Stop, don’t say that. You’re the smartest person I know, did you know that? Remember when you tutored all of us that one time? If you can tutor nine idiots in one session and we all somehow passed the class, you’re not an idiot.”

“Being book smart and Rich Boy smart are on two totally different levels of intelligence! Why am I so dumb in the latter!?”

“You aren’t. We’re the dumb ones. We let amazing people slip through our fingers because somehow this lifestyle sucks us back in. Some of us are able to overcome it, but most succumb to it.”

“... You’re right, you guys are the dumb ones.”

You and Woojin sat on Chan’s summer Black and White bungalow for hours, talking about the most useless things until the sun rose above the horizon and the light was almost blinding. It started out crying about how boys were stupid and ended with laughing until you couldn’t breathe from the stories he told you about his old flings.

“She said the mitochondria was the trap house of the cell,” Woojin tisked.

“She must have been kidding.”

“I can assure you she was not.”

“Wow,” you giggled. “You’ve dated a lot of… exciting people.”

“I wouldn’t say exciting…”

“Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I heard about some poor girl coming out of your place from Felix. He likes to whine about how lucky you are. Has Woojin lost his touch?”

“I will never lose my touch, don’t get that twisted,” he warned. “Maybe I’m tired of hook-ups. Maybe I’m trying to settle down.”

“Ha! Good one!”

“No, really!”

“Yeah, ok ~”

“Let me prove it. Let’s go on a date.”

Your laugh got caught in your throat. You’re stunned silent, looking at the man beside you like he was delusional. He had to be talking nonsense - it was six in the morning and neither of you had any sleep or anything to eat for several hours, he’s just talking crazy, right!? But the slight smirk on his lips told you that no, he wasn’t joking. He was enjoying that you were probably thinking about it right at this moment - what it’d be like to go on a date with Mr. Kim Woojin. He’s not wrong.

The front door to Chan’s house opened and startled you to death, but you’re so, so thankful that the girl Chan took home stumbled in between you two and you could avoid Woojin’s proclamation for a little longer. Both of you turned to see Chan in his pajamas bottoms and no shirt standing in the doorway, hair disheveled with droopy eyes, looking like he didn’t get any sleep at all.

Woojin helped you to your feet before greeting his old friend. “Good morning, Chan.”

The sleepy boy’s jaw tightened. Why did he look so triumphant? If you two were here the whole night, it’s not like you two did anything… right?

“Hey,” he greeted shortly.

Woojin turned to you. “Think about it. I’ll see you later?”

You nodded silently, still too stunned to move. Then, taking advantage of your frozen form, Woojin swooped in for a quick kiss on the cheek.

Oh shit, this man was serious.

You’re completely sober and you really wished you weren’t because now you were going to reflect on everything that happened yesterday, from the time you landed until just this very second. On top of that, you were probably going to have to deal with Chan’s grumpy ass right now because when you walked right past him to the kitchen to chug a whole bottle of water, he followed right on your tail.

“How was last night?” he asked bitterly.

“Not as good as yours apparently,” you replied, trying to stay light-hearted and calm. Don’t get jealous, _____. You don’t have a right to.

“Nothing happened.”

“Oh?”

“She was puking all night. I barely had any sleep while taking care of her.”

“Did you bring her here just so she can puke in the comfort of your home, or was that just an inconvenient coincidence?” The words made you sound jealous, but you were genuinely curious. He claimed that nothing happened as if he knew you’d care if something did. Well, you didn’t!... you said, lying to yourself.

Chan stayed quiet. That was more than enough to answer your question.

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I’m going to bed.”

Chan wouldn’t let you. “What were you and Woojin doing?”

“Uh, talking?”

“On my porch?”

“Yeah? You left me at the party and I was all alone! So he was nice enough to walk me back here. I didn’t want to go inside to my room because God knows what you and her were doing there -”

“Nothing happened,” he repeated.

“Yeah, now I know. But if she wasn’t puking, who knows what would have happened, and guess what, I didn’t want to hear that or deal with it or even think about it, so we sat on your porch for hours until you opened the door.”

“You were the one who left me first. I thought you and I were having a great time! I was having so much fun with you and I wanted you back in my arms as soon as possible, but then I saw you in his. Do you know how much that hurt? I have liked you since the day you took my breath away when we first met, and I thought I could finally tell you that when you were back in my arms. But then I saw you in his and panicked. I swear to you, nothing happened with me and Sana. Nothing was going to happen, not when all I could think about was what you could possibly be doing with him. I thought you left me for him, and I got scared. I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry, ok? Can we talk about this over breakfast?”

That was what Chan wanted to say. But he’s tired, and he’s hurt, and the tears in your eyes were too much for him to handle. With his head down, he said,

“I hope you had fun.”

Chan brushed passed you to get to the coffee maker. He might as well stay up - what was the point in sleeping now?

You rushed up stairs so he didn’t see the tears rolling down your face.

The day was silent. Everything seemed to stop, but that was the last thing you wanted. You wanted to pack up, get in the damn cherry red convertible, and fly all the way home where you could forget about this whole weekend and the people involved. Felix finally made it home around noon, chatting nonstop about the yacht party that happened at four in the morning and all the girls he was talking to and thankful he couldn’t sense the tension between you and Chan.

The drive to the airport was silent. The flight back home was silent. The drive to your apartment was silent and the only noise you made that night was crying yourself to sleep.

Where did you go wrong? Was it when you wandered off to Woojin? Was it when you agreed to go on this trip? Was it when you fell for someone so unattainable for someone in your social class? Was it when you weren’t born with a billion dollars to your name?

Life was unfair and it had a funny way with playing with you and your heart.

You didn’t see Chan much after tonight.

#chan #bang chan #skz #stray kids #skz chan #stray kids chan #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #chan scenarios #chan imagines #i love making chan look like an asshole LOOLLLL #sorry if some of the suggestive stuff was uhh explicit?? idk #also sorry it's in two parts HAHA i did not wanna post something more than my seungmin fic ._.#omg i hope yall like this :/ im not so confident w this one

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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years

Text

Tengu! Kaminari Denki x Reader

Your father owns the pub in town, you love working as a waitress until you find out that the pub isn’t doing so hot anymore. A new wealthy clan offers to buy your father out of his debt in return for one thing…

Halloween time! I love monster boys, this is in the same universe as Kitsune Todoroki, you can find that here > https://writinginthedarkwood.tumblr.com/post/188178949954/kitsune-todoroki-a-mischievous-encounter

Warnings: lemon content. Also, this is kind of long lol

“Can you get another round for that table over there Y/N?” Father called from the kitchen, it’s the dinner rush and the pub is full. People were laughing and talking loudly over each other, drinking and eating there bellies full. I looked to see where father was pointing too, the corner table by the window wasn’t eating, just having a few pints. Their glasses were getting empty, I took my notepad over with a smile. “Thank you so much for coming out today, can I get you boys another round?” I flashed them my most flirty smile, they have nicer clothes on then I’ve seen anyone else in this town wear, they could be big tippers. The shortest man in the group sat on the end with a flushed face, he laughed with a bit of drool hanging out of his mouth.

He had strange hair, it looked like some type of purple jelly substance sitting on his head. “I’ll tell you what I’d like to have a round of…” He exclaimed loudly to his friend sitting beside him. His friend laughed, also intoxicated. He was wearing a large jacket that puffed out on his elbows. “Aw come on don’t give the pretty lady a hard time!” The man said with a wide toothed smile. He put a hand on his bangs, they were black and flattened on his forehead. The shorter man turned his attention back to me and let out a sick giggle. “I’ll take another beer, and slice of that ass.” He pinched the air with his fingers like he was about to touch me. I recoiled, but tried to keep my composure. This isn’t the first time I’ve had someone make advances toward me while working but something about his skeevey eyes made my stomach churn. “Hey now!” A firm hand grabbed my shoulder and moved me out of the pathway the little man was following to reach my body. His touch left a light tingle on my collar bone. He stood between us, tall and confident. “There’s no need to be rude Minetta. We’re guests in this establishment.” He flashed me a beautiful smile. He looked different than anyone I’d ever seen travel through this area before, was he from out of town? My cheeks blushed slightly. He had yellow hair, with a black streak in it, he was unbelievably handsome, but boyish somehow at the same time. He took a seat across from the other two, next to a girl who had been quiet mostly. She was fuming, her eyebrows furrowed. “We can’t take that rat with us anywhere.” She said to me. “Everything is alright!” I said cheerily, trying to build the mood back up. “What were you all drinking tonight, I have one beer down. What else?” The yellow hair young man stared at me with a slight upturned grin. He lifted his half full mug and took another drink. “How about you bring us a pitcher of that fine ale, and we’ll pour our own drinks. That okay doll?” He tilted his head, studying my face. I tried to hide my excitement that he called me doll, what the hell Y/N get it together! I just smiled and turned to get them their drinks. My heart thudded in my chest, and I took a deep breath with my back turned to the table still. Just pour the beer with out spilling it Y/N… I filled the pitcher and went back to the table and set it down carefully. “I’ll come check on you in a little bit, if you need anything go ahead and just let me know.”

“You’ve been great, thank you sweet heart.” The blonde smiled.

I felt his eyes on me the entire rest of the night, they were the last table to stick around. My father flipped the chairs onto the tables while I wiped down the bar counter. The kitchen closed an hour ago, and the last of the beer is about dried up. Father leaned over the counter and whispered to me. “I’m worried they’re going to split on the bill…” He nodded his head towards the strange group. “Have you been keeping track of their tab?” Sweat gathered on his brow, we can’t afford to have them disappear. Father doesn’t talk often about it, but we owe a lot of money to a lot of people. Some, more scary than the others. “Yeah they’ve drank enough to pay rent this month alone.”

“Shit, why don’t you go let them know we’re closing soon.” I nodded my head and straightened out my apron. I pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear and looked at my reflection, ugh I look so messy. I know I shouldn’t care but… I approached the table with the calculated cost of their tab. “It looks like you all had a really nice night.” I said without making eye contact with the man staring holes into dress. They had enough beer to knock the best drinkers in town out cold three times, but they seemed pretty composed still. “Is it closing time already? I still want beer!” The black haired man with the big jacket whined. “We have some more to drink back home Sero, we don’t want to keep this lady up all night.” The girl spoke matter casually, but a hint of demand in her voice. She had a very cute face, and short hair in a style I’ve never seen before. She had strange earrings hanging down and touching her shoulder. “Is that the tab bar maiden?” I swallowed, my admirer stood and took the tab from my hands, his fingers gently brushing mine. The hair on my arms stood up, a light shock hit my knuckles and I squeaked, pulling my hand away. He chuckled at me. “Well would you look at that, there’s so much electricity between us.” He didn’t even flinch reading the extremely high number. He handed it back to me and pulled out a leather pouch from his pocket. He handed the entire bag to me, it jingled with coins. I gasped looking inside, it was filled to the brim with gold pieces. “You’re not from around here, are you mister?” I said completely floored. He smiled at me, I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “We’re from the east, we decided we wanted to see what these beautiful lowlands were all about.” He said a little coy, like that wasn’t the entire truth but would make the most sense to say. “Well, welcome to town.” I tried to turn quickly, my hands shaking. I’ve never seen so much gold at one time. “Could I get your name, maiden?” He asked. My heart fluttered, the way he called me maiden was so alluring, his voice dripping with charm. “Oh… I’m Y/N… my father owns this place.” He gently took my hand and planted a kiss on my fingers. “Please, called me Denki.” I nodded my head, hardly able to speak. “Ye- yes sir.” I stammered out. He smiled, liking the way he made me nervous.

The group gathered themselves and left, my father locking the door behind him. We sat behind the counter together counting today’s gold and silver. “Wow I should go to the market tomorrow and get us some fresh vegetables.” I beamed, excited. “I can make a big pot of soup for the special tomorrow.” Father ran his hand through his hair and I noticed something strange come over his face. Tears gathered in his eyes but they didn’t spill. “It’s not enough, honey.” He said choked up. “What do you mean? This is more than enough! We made so much tonight.” He shook his head no, my lungs felt tight. Please don’t tell me…

“We owe them more money.” He said sadly. “A lot more money.”

The town can be really peaceful, as long as everyone pays their debt to the “collections agents”. People have up and gone missing before, but we don’t dare say anything about it. “How is this possible? We almost had them paid off.” I felt a sob gathering in my throat. “You said that we were almost free-” He cut me off. “I know what I said!” He shouted and I took a step away from him. He never raises his voice to me. He quieted down. “I lied.” He said almost in a whisper.

A knock came at the door. My father swept the gold quickly into our lock box and hid it under the counter. “Go upstairs and don’t come down unless I tell you.” I planted my feet on the ground firmly and crossed my arms. “I’m not leaving you.” I said, a tear streaming down my face. “I said now Y/N!” He slammed a fist on the counter. Devastated I ran upstairs and threw myself on my bed like a child, and broke into cries. How could he jeopardize our lives like this? I would have gotten another job, or helped him budget in the very least!

It was very quiet downstairs. I wiped my face off, and removed my apron. I changed out of my work clothes and put on my sleep wear. A simple cotton dress that goes right to the top of my knee. I tried to freshen myself up, everything should be fine. That gold will at least hold them off for another month maybe.

Father called upstairs for me to come see him in the bar. I stepped down the stairs and didn’t hear much talking. A man in a suit sat at the bar leaning on one elbow. He didn’t smile when he saw me. “Ah, I can see why Kaminari would put this offer on the table now.” He said plainly. My father had tears streaming down his face. He looked down at the counter in shame. “What’s going on?” I asked timidly. The man looked at my father out of the corner of his eye. “Wanna tell her, or should I?” Father didn’t speak up. “Okay I will then.” He waved his hand in the air, aloof. “A good friend of our agency…” He started. “Has offered to buy this sink hole out of debt for you.” A sly grin spread across his face.

“What? Really? That’s amazing!” I cheered, clapping my hands with joy. I looked at father, he didn’t move his look away from the counter, tears welling in a little puddle under him. “What…” I thought for a moment. “What’s the catch?” I asked, my happiness dying down. “Well that’s where you come in.” He looked me up and down. “You get to decide whether you care about your family or not, right here and right now.”

I shook my head, not understanding. “Of course I love my family, what do you mean?” My stomach twisted in a knot. His sick grin grew wider. “He offered to buy your bar out of debt, under the condition you marry him. How romantic.” My jaw dropped and my face turned red in anger. “How dare you insult me like this! What kind of perv would-”

“Ah, well if you feel so strongly about this that’s no issue.” The man interrupted me. “Boy’s come on in, it’s a no go.” He shouted over his shoulder. The collections agency thugs slammed open the door. Men in large suits poured into the bar, holding various weapons. “Wait! Wait don’t…!” They grabbed father by the arm, he didn’t resist. “Who is it?” I shouted over the commotion. The man snapped his fingers and the thugs dropped father. “He’s new in town. Moved here with his family, a big group of people from out east.” My heart pounded so loud I could hear my blood pumping through my ear. “His name is Kaminari Denki. Strange fellow, ridiculously rich.” He peered at me through thin framed glasses. “They bought that mansion past the lilac fields. Built a giant ass fence around the whole thing.”

“I’ll do it.” I spit out. The man chuckled. “That was fast, alright men. Load her up!” He snapped his fingers again and the thugs grabbed me in their arms. “Wait right now?” I shouted at the man while looking at my father. “We don’t want you to try and run off, you’re worth a lot of money right now.” The men dragged me out of the bar and threw me into a buggy. I slammed my fist on the window, screaming for father. He stood in the door way biting his nails while the man in the suit held his shoulder firmly.

I sat in silence during the ride their. It felt like hours to reach the edge of town and get to the fields. It wasn’t, but time was slow. How did I get here? I was hoping to see Mister Denki again, but I never imagined it would be like this. Maybe I fell asleep after the bar closed, and this is a dream. I pinched myself and it stung a little, maybe its a dream that I can feel things? No, I know its true. I can see the iron gate closing off the road ahead, a thick mist hung low to the ground. The buggy stopped at the gate, the woman from the bar was standing behind it. She unlocked the big chain holding the gate shut and we passed through. The gate closed behind us and the door to the buggy opened. She stood there with a stoic face, she stuck out her hand to help me and I took it. I was shaking, the night air felt freezing, flowing right through the thin fabric of my night dress. She took off a fur coat and put it on my shoulders. “Come on, its not a far walk up this path.” She waved the buggy away and we stepped up the hill. “Hey.” She said after a few moments of quiet. I looked at her, she had a gentle smile on her face. “This isn’t what you think.”

“It’s not?” I said, my voice shaky coming through chattering teeth.

“No, I was going to let Denki explain everything, but we really wanted to help you.” She had taken my arm, helping me walk over rocks. I was only wearing slippers, they threatened to fall off. “Something about you really stuck out to our leader, the thought about something bad happening to you…” She hesitated, thinking about her choice of words carefully. “Let’s just say he really didn’t want something bad to happen to you.”

“Really?” I asked and she nodded her head yes.

We walked in silence a little longer before I noticed we were at the mansions front courtyard, it was like the building appeared out of nowhere. I gasped, it’s the biggest home I’ve ever seen. A large bird launched itself off of the roof, in the dark it looked too large. Almost like the size of a man. The door opened suddenly and that short man named Minetta called out. “Oh Kyoka it isn’t fair! Denki get’s all of the babes and now, the most beautiful wife ev-” Something jutted out from her hair and stabbed him in the gut. A long strand, connected to a sharp end recoiled back towards her. What kind of weapon is that? The little man held his stomach and groaned. “P-please. Come in…” He said through gritted teeth.

The furniture was all from the east, a pile of shoes sat by the door. It seemed very homey, something smelled good in here. I realized I hadn’t eaten all day, and my stomach growled. Kyoka and Minetta lead me to a dining room and sat down on the floor. The table is low, and filled with food. Kyoka made me a plate and encouraged me to eat. I’d never had food made in a traditional style from the east. I ate some of the rice, my stomach thanking me even though I feel to nervous to eat anything else. “Denki should be coming back soon, he had to stay in town on… some business.” Kyoka said. Minetta chimed in. “Yeah, how the hell did your dads bar run up such a big tab?”

Tears welled in my eyes, poor father. He never meant to borrow money, after mother died he borrowed just a bit to pay for a proper funeral. It was all downhill after that. Kyoka slapped him on the back of the head. “That’s rude, Minetta.” A voice called from behind us. The black haired man stood in the doorway, his arms were no longer hidden by a jacket. There was something bulky on his elbows, his skin bulged in a circle shape. I raised an eyebrow, trying not to stare at him too much. “Denki’s upstairs in his room. He said to send her up there to talk!” He sat down beside Kyoka. “Should I walk her up there?” She asked, setting her bowl of food down. She stood up without him answering and took my hand. She walked me down the hallway to the base of some stairs. “Just walk up here and turn down the hallway.”

I walked barefoot up the stairs slowly, my breath shaky. I can’t stop thinking about his smile, why couldn’t they have at least let me change? I feel so exposed in my dress. The door at the end of the hall was open slightly, I felt a chill of the cold night air rush across the floor and cause chills over my whole body. I held my skirt down and pushed the door open further.

The room is dark, the moon coming in through the open balcony being the only light. He was standing there in the night air, the white curtains billowing in the wind. He was shirtless, leaning against the balcony railing facing me in the doorway. The door shut behind me and I jumped. I stepped closer, something was jutting out from his back. I moved the white curtains and gasped. He had beautiful black wings, large and taking up all the space behind him. I tried to step away but froze. He yawned and stretched lazily, his wings folding behind him. “Hello Y/N, I’m glad you made it here okay.” He said sweetly. I covered my mouth with my hands. What is he? An angel? He took my hand and pulled me close to him. His chest pressing against mine, I couldn’t speak. “I know you probably have a million questions, but I have to ask you properly.” He knelt down and held my hand between us. “Please, Y/N. Be my wife, you and I were meant to be together, I just know it.” He said enthusiastically. I tried to wipe a bit of a smile off of my face, but it crept onto my cheeks anyway. “I don’t know what to say.” I mustered out. He smiled and slipped a golden band on my finger. “Then just say yes.” He smiled at me and kissed over the band. “I… yes. I’ll marry you.” My answer fell out of my mouth, surprising the both of us. He stood up and pulled me against him, wrapping his strong arms around me and kissing the top of my head. I couldn’t help but curl into him, he smelled like expensive cologne. “Well this is great!” He said breaking the silence. “Now that we’re married, I can do this.” He pulled me inside his room and spun me around. I twirled and giggled, falling into his arms. “You misspoke, we’re not married yet. We’re just engaged!” I said, my anxieties dying down. Something about him making my worries melt away for a moment. He looked at me puzzled. “Oh I guess you’re right.” He chuckled letting me out of his arms for just a second. Something wicked flashed over his face. He grabbed both of my arms and shoved me to the wall, a gasp of surprise falling out my lips, the air in my lungs rushing out as I hit the wall. He pinned both of my hands above my head and looked down at me with a sinful smile. “We have to make things official before you’re truly my wife.” He purred in my ear, giving my jaw a peck. “What are you doing?” I asked, flustered. He used his free hand to stroke my cheek and I shivered. “What does it look like I’m doing silly girl?” He pressed his hips against me, I felt his member grow hard against my naval. “I’m claiming my wife.” He whispered in my ear, sparks of electricity escaped from his lips and jolted my body. “How do you keep doing that?” I said, breathless. “I can do a lot of crazy things Y/N.” He kissed my neck, sucking gently on my skin. A breathy moan fell out of my mouth and I clamped my lips shut. He chuckled darkly. “Just let it all out love, I want to know how I can make you feel good.” He kept kissing my neck as his hand crept up my thigh, I squirmed underneath him and pressed down harder, holding me still while he explored. “Relax, I want to feel every part of your tight little body.” He pulled me off of the wall and laid me down on a thin mat on the ground. He kissed my lips for awhile, just taking his time using his tongue to explore every corner of my mouth. He smoothly slipped my night gown off of me, showing him my body. “Oh fuck, how are you so beautiful?” He slammed his mouth back onto mine and ran his fingers through my hair, pulling down harshly at the strands near the nape of my neck. I cried out and he let go. “Sorry love, I can’t help but be a little excited.” He kissed my lips softly and pulled his pants down, his staff trying to burst out of his underwear. A wet spot glimmered where the tip was, his excitement dripping out of him. My eyes widened, this was really happening. I gripped at the mat and he took the final piece of clothing off that was keeping him from being completely naked. “This might hurt a little, I’ll try and be gentle.” He said, his arousal making his voice a bit more raspy. He placed his tip on my entrance and felt around, finding the best place to insert himself. I closed my eyes and cringed. “Hey now, don’t clench up like that. You need to breathe.” He palmed a now swollen part of my body, my clit throbbed as he applied more pressure, not even toying with me. Just pressing down on on my clit with his palm and slowly moving it around. “I can make you feel really good, but you have to loosen up some.” I felt myself getting wetter, his touch not giving too much stimulation. I relaxed my shoulders onto the mat and let out a sigh. “Yeah, like that.” He rubbed himself against me, letting some of my moisture cover him. “Ah shit…” He groaned and slid himself between my lips, having to shove himself to fit. I sat up and my eyes shot open. “Denki!” I cried out, tears welling up in my eyes from the shot of pain. His breathing heaved and he pressed his chest against mine, guiding me to lie back down. “See? It’s not so bad.” He teased, nibbling on my ear lobe. He moved his hips slowly, rocking himself back and forth while we adjusted. I gripped onto his shoulders, my nails scratching him. The pain died down quickly, I started to savor the new sensations. I felt his girth grind against my walls, his pace picking up. The sound of his skin slamming against mine filled my ears and I felt my core heat up, a fire building low in my belly. I whined his name, and he moaned in my ear. “That’s it baby, moan my name.” He kissed me with heated passion, his hips still bucking into me. I gasped for air, my body releasing the built up tension in a shaking orgasm. I cried out his name again, louder than before not even worried if anyone down stairs could hear me. He bit down on the skin over my collar bone and I winced. My discomfort riling him up even more. He grinned wolfishly and grabbed both sides of my cheeks with one hand, pinching me face to look up at him. “Stare into my eyes while I cum inside you.” He slammed his hips into me a few more times as he squirted his seed. I felt him pulse as the warm liquid filled me up. He smirked after one final groan and shook his head. “Here I thought you were a dignified lady. Not a little cum slut.” He said in a mocking tone. “This was your idea!” I tried to shove him off of me and he just laughed and slammed another kiss onto me. “You’ll have to grow a bit thicker skin Y/N, sometimes I like to be rough.” He pulled himself out of me and helped me sit up.

“Come on, let’s go get us a drink to celebrate!”

Hey my requests are open! It can be Halloween related or something else!!

#kaminari denki #tengu #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader #bnha smut #lemon bnha #monster bnha #kinktober #exophilia #denki smut #inthewoods yokai

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crystaljins · 5 years

Text

When the ice melts | Drabble

Characters: Jimin x Reader

Word count: 3.1K

Synopsis: At Jimin’s insistence, you have waited until you bring home that gold medal to tell him how you feel.

Can you finally say it?

Sequel drabble to When the Ice melts

Notes: I left this fic as an open ending originally because I wanted my readers to imagine how things worked out for Jimin and reader, but since you guys have been so sweet and showered my fic with so much love, I figured there was no harm in a tiny, mini sequel. It’s very half-assed and written quite carelessly but hopefull it gives you the closure you are all searching for, haha.

Warnings: Jungkook calling people idiots. Kissing. Silly people lol.

The entire nation is holding its breath.

Every camera in the arena is trained on you. Your face is being broadcast across every major channel your country has to offer. You’re out of breath and some of your hair has dislodged slightly from its careful styling. But nothing can dim the brightness in your eyes as you beam, breath caught in your throat and heart on the verge of taking flight. Surely you will be taking home the Olympic gold medal after a performance like that.

Though technically the results won’t be announced until later, there is no doubt in anyone’s mind who the recipient of the gold medal should be. You didn’t just skate on that ice- you soared. You glided- you danced. One of the judges even raises his handkerchief to dab gently at his eyes, a movement he thinks is subtle enough to go undetected but is actually being caught by a lucky reporter. It will be broadcast as a viral video when the news over the next few days.

But you are oblivious to that, oblivious to way that you glow like something ethereal as you step off the ice. You catch the eye of your choreographer and she winks at you, proud of how you made her choreography come alive. In a few days, her phone will be ringing off the hook as people who are desperate to capture the magic of your performance want to hire the creative mastermind behind it. She will merely smile and accept the offers though she knows the truth- that while her choreography is good, only you can bring the soul and joy to it that will win you the gold medal.

So, if you are oblivious to the way your stunning performance will and has changed so many lives in that exact moment, what is it that you are thinking after having delivered a routine that will go down in the history books of the figure skating sport? You’ve always been a one-track mind kind of girl. It’s how you were able to focus solely on ice skating and nothing else throughout your youth, and no clearer does this personality trait show as in this moment: Your eyes scan the crowd and they go impossibly brighter when they find the target of their desperate search.

Jimin leans awkwardly against the wall in the kiss-and-cry area, obviously waiting for his athlete to wave off the crowd of people congratulating her and make her way towards him. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets and his hip is cocked- often he rests weight on only one leg, to take the pressure off his bad leg. Large amounts of reconstructive surgery means that he can walk normally, but sometimes in cold weather he still feels the ache. Though you are exhausted and sore after such a challenging and passionate performance, your body feels light, like you are floating on a cloud as you draw nearer. He’s always handsome but in this moment he is ethereal- light catches his cheek bones and you can’t help but admire the fine set of his figure. Though he is no longer a figure skater, he carries himself with grace even off the ice, even after so many years of retirement.

His eyes flicker up as he hears your approach. Perhaps he is aware of the many cameras trained on you, of the people still reeling from your performance, but for you, all you can see is him. His face, his smile, his eyes, the way his hair falls against his brow. You love him. You love him so much- he’s been your coach for over a year now and every moment has been precious. Even though he’s grumpy and bad at expressing himself, even though the only thing he can ever think about is figure-skating… You love him. And you can finally say it. You know that he’s been pushing you away for months now, afraid of interfering with your budding career, today is the day he will finally let you say the words.

“Jimin!” You call, and his smile is warm as you rush up to him, still in your skates. He doesn’t even hesitate as you throw your arms around him, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.

“That triple lutz landing was messy.” He mutters into the crook of your shoulder and you laugh. He pulls away and glares at you with a slight frown. “Is that a joke to you? We’ll be training twice as hard from now on! No more messy landings.”

“That’s fine.” You say, with a coy smile. “That just means more time with you, right?”

Jimin tries to look stern but he can’t keep the smile off his face despite his best efforts. What comes out is a strained but fond smile as he shakes his head.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” He says and despite the harshness of his words, there is no denying the adoration in his words. Because Jimin loves you too- not only has he said it before, but he’s shown it. In the way he buys you dinner after practice, or the way that he pulls you in close for a hug when the exhaustion and fatigue of training sets in. In the way that his eyes shine with love as he watches you skate across the ice or the way that he’ll rearrange everything for something as simple as taking you to a movie. And despite his insistence that the two of you have to wait until you win your first gold medal, he does not have the strength to stay away, and now he won’t have to.

“I know.” You say gleefully. He grins.

“Let’s go get that gold medal.” He tells you softly, taking your hand gently in his. He’s always affectionate with you- he likes to hold your hand and sit close enough so that your legs press together, and yet your heart still flutters at the warm sensation of his fingers interlaced with yours.

“Wait. First I want to say it. I lo-“ You begin eagerly. The words are always on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst forth but you’ve held them in at his insistence. You can’t wait any longer.

“Just a little longer.” He cuts you off. “I want to see that gold medal around your neck first. And then tomorrow we can go for dinner and we can talk, ok?”

You frown.

“Tomorrow is so far away.” You complain and he smiles and the look he gives you is tortured.

“Believe me, (Y/N), I know.” He says with a laugh. “Now let’s go get that medal.”

You sigh and follow obediently. They’re announcing the result in a couple of hours and you suppose if you’ve waited an entire year to be able to say those three words to Jimin, you can wait a little longer.

The press has a field day. The Olympics are sacred- the thought that there could be corruption amidst the judges is an outrageous claim and yet not a single person can deny that you deserved the gold medal. The only proof, however, is that the person who took home the gold came from the country where the Olympics were being hosted and the videos of your dazzling performance. Despite the petition that goes up to launch an audit into the score, the authorities come away with nothing. Perhaps you were marked harder than strictly necessary- highly specific technicalities that no one has brought up for years were subtracted from your final score, but they were all rules in the book. You even get a phone call from the distraught gold medallist, promising that she would never cheat and the results were as unexpected to her as they were to you. You reassure her with a smile on your face and you respond in all the interviews with that same easy smile. People can see the difference though- they had seen the way your smile normally reaches all the way to your eyes and how in interviews after the announcement they just seem dead.

You go back home with a silver medal.

A silver medal isn’t bad. In the past, you would have been thrilled with such a result. To even have the opportunity to skate in the Olympics is so beyond your wildest dreams and to do it with Jimin, your former idol-turned-coach is even more unbelievable. The experience was thrilling and when you rewatch videos your heart still races. A silver medal is a wonderful thing to receive.

The only problem is Jimin. His eyes had gone dark and foggy at the announcement of the results, like someone had flipped a switch. All the colour had drained from his face and he had actually had to leave the room. He hasn’t contacted you since and all your texts in the week that has passed have gone unread.

You know Jimin loves you, but you also know he loves you because he fell for your skating. And with his radio silence, you can’t help but feel the doubts start to creep him. Has he decided you aren’t good enough from him, because you were unable to take home the gold medal like he expected you too? Perhaps his refusal to allow you to confess your love hadn’t been a desire to wait. Maybe he wanted to see if you could prove yourself worthy of him and you failed the trial? Perhaps he never even loved you in the first place- maybe it was only the opportunity to go back to the Olympics that he loved.

All these thoughts swirl around until your heart is heavy and dark. You can’t even bear to go to the ice rink your father owns. Instead you linger around at home, sulking in your bed, refusing to see friends or go out. If it were just the silver medal, or it were just Jimin ignoring you, you would have been able to cope. But the two combined leaves you devastated until you can’t even bear to leave your room.

It’s Jungkook who finally drags you outside. Your parents let him in and he barges upstairs and storms into your room without knocking. He doesn’t even give you the chance to change out of your pyjamas- he just grabs your wrist and drags you. You aren’t weak- you’re an Olympic athlete, after all, but you find yourself powerful against Jungkook’s muscles and you are dragged pathetically after him like a ragdoll.

“Where are we going?” You complain, still in your cow-themed pyjamas and with unwashed hair.

“Out.” Jungkook snaps. He turns to glare at you. “You haven’t even washed your hair!” He notices with irritation. “The both of you are such a handful.”

You shouldn’t be surprised that it’s your father’s ice rink he pulls up at. He turns to you after parking and frowns.

“Now, this party was supposed to be a surprise to celebrate you winning your silver medal. Jin even baked you an entire cake. But you’ve ignored all my messages all week where I was trying to get you here for the surprise and Jimin has dropped off the frickin’ radar, so here’s what we are gonna do: You’re gonna go in there and have the time of your life. I don’t care that you’re in your pyjamas and that your hair isn’t washed. You are going to have fun. And then you’re gonna go home and speak to Jimin. I won’t be at the party because I’m going to find him and beat his ass and then drag him back to yours. Now go have fun. Jin will drop you home.” And with that, Jungkook is shoving you out of his car, still in your pyjamas, and speeding off, out of the car parking lot.

You blink a few times- the sunlight is bright and no doubt you look shabby in your ratty pyjamas and uncombed hair. But the sentiment is sweet, and you feel bad for dropping off the radar as you did. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself. Jungkook is right- winning a silver medal at the Olympics is something to be celebrated and you can’t keep acting like the world has ended. Plastering a genuine smile on your face, you square your shoulders and step into the building.

What greets you first is the familiar, clear and misty smell of the ice. You only get a whiff of the familiar smell before it’s replaced with the smell of smoke- dozens of party poppers go off and confetti fires into the air as the few close friends you have managed to keep with your busy schedule leap out from hiding spots to scream congratulations. Someone has strung a huge banner across the far wall of the rink and someone else has turn on the disco lights.

“Nice outfit.” Jin snickers, and you gaze around at all the people who love you enough to throw such an event and you tear up.

The party ends up being a hit. There aren’t a huge number of people and the people who are there are the kind who don’t care that you’re in your pyjamas. They’re happy if your happy and it warms your heart.

You’re having such a good time that you don’t even notice when he steps into the building, dragged along by Jungkook. You’re laughing with some old school friends with a smile brighter than the sun and Jimin’s heart aches at the sight of you. It’s been a week and yet he feels like it’s been a year. He’s such an idiot.

Jungkook shares the sentiment.

“You’re such an idiot.” He admits with a shake of his head. “I’ve literally never seen someone so whipped in my life. Go talk to her, dummy.”

It takes a rough shove from Jungkook and a moment to gather his courage, but Jimin stumbles towards you like he’s gone a week in the desert and you’re a glass of ice water.

When you spot him, the cup in your hand slips to the ground and liquid spills everywhere.

“Oh!” You cry, and another friend rushes to try and help you mop up the mess. Jimin follows, crouching down to help you, but he just ends up bumping heads with you. You cry out in pain, stumbling back and rubbing the tender spot on your scalp.

“Are you ok?” He cries, diving forward and placing his hand on either side of your face, tilting your head around at different angles to examine the area he bumped. Your hands come up to grab his wrists and gently tug them away.

“I’m fine.” You say softly. And Jimin would honestly give his soul to make sure you never look at him like that again- with equal parts heart break and distance. He’s such a fool. And Jungkook obviously beat that knowledge into him, but he’s spent the past week knowing that to be true. He’s a coward who ran away because he couldn’t handle the fact that he had failed you.

Because for you to take home a silver medal means that he’s failed as your coach. And he knows you deserve the gold and that the judges got away with it by being sneaky, and he’s so frustrated that there’s nothing he can do. And it means he’s wasted the past year not showering you with love and affection because he wanted to wait until you took home the gold medal. So he ran away because he couldn’t handle the crippling guilt and misery, and as always, you pay the price for his own emotional incompetence. And the worst part is, despite the fact that you are probably devastated at being denied a gold medal that is rightfully yours, all he can think about is he can’t bear to weight another four years to properly date you and kiss you and hold you. He doesn’t even know how he’s lasted a year. Why did he decide you taking home a gold medal had to be the starting point of your relationship? He can’t wait that long.

“Can… can we talk?” He asks softly. The friend who is helping you clean up seem to sense the tension in the air and is quick to clear out. You bite your lip before nodding.

“I… Yeah. Yes we can.” You say softly, ducking your head shyly and he can’t help the warm smile that slides onto his face at the sight of you. He missed you so much in just the short space of a week.

It isn’t hard to find a private corner, but the second you do, the words spill out before he can help them.

“I love you.” He cries. You blink a few times in surprise. “I love you so much it hurts and I’m sorry for avoiding you. I was just ashamed and couldn’t bear to talk to you because I’d let you down. And I know that probably made everything worse and Jungkook told me that you probably think I hate you, but I don’t. I hate myself because I couldn’t give you what you deserve. But I can’t hold it back or push you away any longer. I love you.”

You’re silent for a few moment, staring at him incredulously and to his immense surprise you burst out in laughter.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” You cry in between peals of laughter. “Jungkook is right. We’re both idiots.” You say. Jimin blinks in half offence and confusion. Why are you laughing at his apology? “I’m sorry for only taking home the silver medal, but I’m not going to wait another four years to say it back.” You snap, and then before he can say anything, you’ve grabbed him by the collar and have pressed your lips firmly against his.

It’s like fireworks go off behind his eyes. Like he’s leapt into ice cold water. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more- more thrilling than performing at the Olympics and more precious than the weight of the gold medal in his hands. And he’ll never win another gold medal in his life but he thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life happy if he can keep kissing you.

“I love you!” You cry, when you finally pull away. “And I can’t believe you made me wait that long to say it, but I won’t wait any longer.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, dumbstruck, but then a warm smile spreads widely across his face.

“Silver suits you better anyway.” He says, stepping forward to gently run his finger across the silver cat pendant resting against your collar bone. The one that you still wear even now, a year later that symbolises so much between you and him. “It matches this.” You shake your head with a laugh that is quickly cut off from him.

You’ll take home the gold medal next time. For now, the two of you have won something far better.

#btsboulangerie #jimin x reader #bts drabble #jimin fluff #park jimin x reader #writing

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gem-flow · 4 years

Note

What would a gem-human hybrid created by you look like?

Gem Hybrids

Well, If I had an hybrid Oc it would probably be the result of a human like greg and any of the gems already showed. From the top left to the bottom right here they go!:

Raimund Ferdinand Universe: Gay and proud, listens to Mariah Carey all day,inspired in RQ 2.0.

Samuel (Sami) Universe: Mexican cutie, loves tortas, a mess, inspired by Smokey.

Gregory (Greg) Jr. Universe: Handsome Latino, gay ass too, has bipolarity (sadly), wanking hurts, but he’s full of love, heterochromia.

Rudi Universe: grumpy, mom’s boi,real ok ko, his description is as short as his stature

Serafino (Safi) Universe: Scared of every living thing, quiet guy that counts backwards to 1, son of elsa, anxiety king.

Brian Santos Universo: Colombian cool guy, dyed hair, he did his dreadlocks himself, knows how to tune and build cars.

Percy Jackson Universe: Anime fan guy, creates ocs, internet troll, fan of Boku no hero academia, Her favorite character is Tsuyu Asui, has a crush on Lincoln (You probably know who), goes to art clases, loves Nepeta Cataria (nyah).

Lincoln Universe: He’s pisces (Like justin bieber), K-popper, loves Twice but also Blackpink, depressed bitch, his favorite place is his room, watches Big mouth.

Kennedy Universe: Bully, Lesbian kid, vitiligo, loves getting high, goes to boxing classes.

Steven Diamond Universe: Loves every-Ugh you already know him, well, he’s all the way around: Fastidious bitch, owner of miss keisha, never represses feelings

Narcissus (Nass) Universe: Craig of the creek, one-eyed but proud of his mother, wants to touch the sky, uncomprehended but optimist, still has no idea what puberty is.

Pinky Pie Sherman Sewell Szilveszter The first Universe: Yeah I really believe Spinel would call her son like that. Fan of MLP although it ended, has a ponysona, brony, funny kid at school (cries at home), loves cuphead and mickey mouse, does streams twice a day.

Adam Universe: Onion 2.0, will byers 2.0, 5-year-old murderer, casted for pinky and the brain, psychotic.

Eric Evergreen Universe: Queer, Handsome guy at school, does every sport, perfect, ashamed of his gem, secret fan of billie eilish, loves pirate stuff, str8 ass, big ship and ‘I'LL BLOW YOU UP TO SMITHEREENS’, would love to be a drag queen.

Zachariah Universe: Studies politics, smart guy at university/ school, A+ kid, listens to mozart, blind, ‘where’s my glasses’, favorite food: mashed potatoes, fan of Abraham Lincoln.

Tomas Universe: Basically me: yeah my name’s Tomas, my birthstone is Topaz lol, Head attached to earphones all day, loves yellow, gay ass bitch.

Rita and Tina: Siamese, argues 24/7, loves the same guy, fans of AHS: Freak show, wants to be a voice actress.

Penny Kelly Universe: Very smol, her mother was a 10 times the size of a normal pebble so don’t worry kids, has overcome cancer (I think it would be a great story to tell), nicest girl in the world.

James (Jimmy) Universe: Son of my jade, goes to free style dance classes, listens to La Rosalia, does teathre, needs a therapist, Student at little homeschool, music and dance are her passions.

Don’t be afraid to be original, I think this is one of my most important posts, I think gem hybrids around tumblr are simple and need to be more creative, this is a little help!

Hope you like it!

#steven universe genderbend #steven universe future #gemsonas #oc #gem hybrid

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luvreyn · 4 years

Text

My Manhua List (2019) pt. 1

I just recently discovered the existence of manhua and manhwas, and i really enjoyed reading them. So as a picky reader, here is a list of my recommendation if you want to start reading them p.s is it just me or there’s only a few of manhuas that are well written

Once More

Summary:

Missing each other due to misunderstanding in high school, the two of them returned to teach at their alma mater after graduating from college. After seven years, Muli Yang didn't recognize that she was the young girl An Xun. Now one of them is a gentle yet scheming male math teacher, and the other is an unromantic and poker-faced female physical education teacher. When they again meet each other, the things are still there, but men are no more the same ones, can they restart their relationship? And the secret of high school is gradually being disclosed...

WHY YOU SHOULD READ:

- this is about two highschool schoolmates who were (still are) in love with each other but misunderstood each other’s feelings they went their separate ways but fate brought them back together when the ml started teaching at their alma mater

- read because it’s gonna reminds of hs and all the dramas that came along w/ it

- plot = 5/5 very simple but well executed so hands down

- art style = 6/5 very pretty

- the ml is sly and cute and handsome

- the mc is very cute and a cat person so there’s that

- mc is also a pe teacher so she’s athletic

- the characters are cute and has their own thing

- transition of the past/flashbacks are great

- the ‘villain’ is effective so you’re gonna hate her too

- great read personally it reminds me of my craziness in hs wherein i was trying and failing to impress my crush

Love is Like The Cherry Blossoms

Summary:

He knows her secret. She knows his secret too. He is the coolest guy in school. She is the curve wrecker of class. They make a deal in exchange to keep each other's secret. They should be strangers after that promise. But he offers to help her confess to her crush at the same time. Is that true? Is he just teasing her? Or...?

WHY YOU SHOULD READ:

- same author as Once More

- light read if you want to feel in love and return to when you had a crush or first love or whatever

- plot = 5/5 simple but well executed honestly the author is so good it makes me want to beg her to create more gems such as this one

- art style = 6/5 ngl i really love the artstyle it’s so pretty

- the main couple are well suited for each other so chemistry is there

- you’re gonna relate to the mc in terms of what she feels when she’s with her crush

- ml is cute badboy that is soft with the mc

- side couple is cute too

- there’s no villain and you’re gonna understand all the motivations of the characters

- the characters doesn’t just revolve around the mc/ml they have their own thing same goes for the ml and mc who has their own thing but still support each other

- to conclude this is a great read with lots of soft and fluffy moments uwu

Long Live My Queen

Summary:

As a hapless modern girl, Xi Yuan travels in time to another world at the end of her life. Unexpectedly, she is stabbed to death on the moment she wakes up. However, owing to this accident, she acquires immortality and captivates the eyes of various exceedingly handsome boys, and that domineering and arrogant princess with golden hair seems also...

WHY YOU SHOULD READ:

- this is like my first discovered manhua ever so it’s pretty special for me

- dont be fooled by the title this is not an spg story apparently i read somewhere that there’s a few?? who thought this one was mature

- so this story is about the mc who was isekai-d or brought (by a god) into this game she was playing and so she met this crown prince (ml) named lie i forgot the whole name and it starts from there so apparently the 4 kingdoms are all looking for this jade jewel that appears every 1000 or so yrs and are gonna fight to death for it to be the one true king or king of kings

- plot = 4/5 it’s very interesting and leaves a lot of room for plot twist and development

- art style = 5/5

- the male characters are hot and cute

- the mc is funny and a tsundere lmao

- NGL I LOVE THE FACT THAT THEY PUT THE CONCEPT OF GOD AND RELIGION IN HERE AND THE MC IS QUESTIONING IT SO PLS READ

- the characters have their own goals and motivations and i love that i dont want a story that just revolves around the mc tbh

- the story progress is smooth for me and decent and the questions are gonna leave you wanting for more

- to conclude: read this bcuz this story has an interesting concept with a nice and cute art style and equally cute characters the end

Closer Heartbeat

Summary:

Owing to an accidental touch, the dissocial and introverted girl Ye Su begins to feel differently about her perfect childhood friend Shu Zheng with whom she's closely associated, as a result, the familiar words and movements between the two of them make her heart beat fast...

WHY YOU SHOULD READ:

- this story is about two childhood friends. mc is not so popular but very cool person while ml is popular with lots of girls liking him

- plot = 4/5 simple but well executed

- art style = 5/5 i love it so pretty

- the characters are all funny and relatable or is bcuz i experience this that it’s relatable to me lol

- 2nd ml is hot and i just love him even though he doesnt have many scenes yet

- mc is very cool character she is no damsel in distress

- ml is very funny n tall and a scaredy cat lmao

- the story is just so fluffy and make my heart go doki doki

- to conclude: read this if you just want to remember the awkwardness and bliss of having a first love/crush or if u like a friend before AND read this bcuz it’s such a nice read, simple but nicely done and the art is cute too lots of cute and fluffy moments if you’re tired of the shitty world outside

The Story of Hua Yan

Summary:

The almighty crowned prince insists on marrying this young “Overgrown Apricot” lady from the tainted Hua family. When the news broke out in the capital, many hearts were broken but what?! This wicked woman doesn’t even want to be the crowned princess because she wants to drink and run away with another man?! Lady Hua: I am a tough woman. I’m definitely not suited for you! Crowned Prince: Then I’ll make sure that in this world, you can only pick me.

WHY YOU SHOULD READ:

- plot = 4/5 bcuz i love palace politics hihih

- art style = 4/5

- it still has a few chaps but it’s very interesting bcuz the crown prince (ml) is so hellbent on making the mc his crown princess/wife and idk why and the mc doesnt want to so expect lots of drama/ploys from them both

- mc is very funny n cool i mean on that era girls are not expected to even go against males let alone a royalty so yes i love her go queen

- 2nd lead is very shady in a good kind of way??

- ml is kinda dominant and manipulative and that makes him attractive i love mls like that idk whats wrong with me why do i find them attractive

- their expressions are meme-able lmao

- to conclude: read this because it’s very entertaining and the mc is a refreshing character

#manhua #manhua recommendation #the story of hua yan #love is like a cherry blossom #once more #Long Live My Queen #Closer Heartbeat #reyn.manhuarecs #Love is Like The Cherry Blossoms

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stayforya · 5 years

Text

SEÑORITA

member: kim namjoon

genre: ceo!au

words: 4.7k

summary: when you learned spanish, you knew it would take you to many places in business matters. however, you couldn't imagine that it would create a special conexión between you and your new boss.

monday morning, 7am

you were very nervous, to be honest

after graduating, you finally found your first job in your field, business administration

because of all your experiences as a student, you could get a good opportunity like this

you just took some fruit, yogurt and left the house to get the bus

you were supposed to be in the building at 8am to start

but because it was your first day, you came early

other coworkers were also coming

you greeted them as they knew you were a greenhorn in work

you started to organize your stuff on the table, turn on the computer and open up the folders

“good morning, everyone”, a very beautiful lady came in

you remembered her from the interview day

she was very sweet

her name tag said kim kyeongmin

“oh, ms. y/n, welcome! everyone, this is your new coworker, please welcome her”

you felt smiles around you and smiled back, also thanking kyeongmin

kyeongmin went to her office, which was right in front of the big room where all employees, including you, had their computers and stuff

the place was nice, spacious

and there was also a coffee machine plus a candy machine

modern office’s stuff

“hey, my name is jane, nice to meet you”, said the woman sitting by the table beside you

“oh, hi, I’m y/n. it’s my pleasure.”

“so, if you need anything, you can just ask me”, she delivered a friendly smile, “I started here six months ago so I know there must be some questions”

you nodded, “of course, thank you”, showing gratitude

you spent the whole morning working and there was a lot to catch up on

your coworkers asked if you’d like to come for lunch but you honestly weren’t even hungry

when you were into something, you didn’t like to pause, so you’d only stop when you’re finished

not that it’s good, since you had to eat

but yeah

during the lunch break, when you finally finished what you were writing and took some sandwich from inside your bag to eat

someone entered the room

you immediately looked, cause your table was the first view when someone got through the door

it was a man and the first thing you noticed was his height

he was tall

a simple white shirt, two buttons opened

black pants

his hair was styled in a nice way too, no strand of hair out of place

you could tell he was a serious guy but not a boring one

“excuse me, where’s everyone?”, he asked

you touched your face just in case there was any bread bran on it

“oh, hm, they are lunching”

he looked at his watch

“I’m sorry I thought the lunch break was already over”

“it’s okay, how can I help you? is there anything you need to deliver to ms. kim?”

he stopped for a brief second and then opened a little smile

“oh no, no, I can come back later”

you nodded

he was almost leaving when you, not satisfied, extended the conversation introducing yourself

“I’m sorry for my manners, my name is y/n”

he looked at you

“you’re the new employee, right? nice to meet you, I’m namjoon”, he said

“yes, nice to meet you too”

you didn’t know how he got that information

probably your proactive beginner way of being said it all

maybe he didn’t work there since he didn’t even have a name tag

you shrugged and came back to your work once he left

not so long later everyone came back, one by one

your new friend (could you call her like that already tho?) jane brought you a cupcake as a welcoming gift

“omg thank you!”, it was cute with a funny character designed on top

“no problem”

you had a lot of things to work on

kyeongmin brought you some stuff on paper to transfer to the virtual folder

you were very concentrated cause, in your mind, mistakes shouldn’t happen on your first day

when the door opened, you couldn’t help but look

the guy from earlier came in again

“excuse me, is kyeongmin already here?”

“no, sir, she was but she had to solve a problem at the bank”, another co-worker answered

sir?

“I’ll have to go into her office, then”, he said to himself out loud

everyone but you nodded

when you noticed, you just followed the nodding session

by the glass wall you could see him inside the office very concentrated

“he came here during lunch, who’s him?”

“oh, you don’t know yet?”, another colleague questioned

“I thought he came to deliver something…”

“no, girl, he’s the owner of this”

“w-what?”

“ms. kim and him are partners in business, he’s the CEO, tho”

everything in your mind made sense

“seriously? I had no idea”

“it’s okay, you just started”

after almost thirty minutes, he was still there

by that hour, everyone was making coffee

“so, every afternoon we like to make coffee, and we always make one to ms. kim when she’s very busy”, jane explained the routine to you

“since she’s not here, we’re making one to him…?”, you asked

“yeah”, someone else answered, putting some cream on top of his cup

“and every day a different person does it”

you looked at them

“I get it”, you said, “I’ll bring him the coffee since I’m new here”

they giggled

you made his coffee exactly like yours since you couldn’t guess how he liked it

everything ready, you knocked at the door

he didn’t move his head but looked at the door opening

“hey, hm, sir, we thought you’d like some coffee”

omg are you going to be informal like this and then add ‘sir’ just to make it better???

“oh”, he relaxed and leaned on the chair more comfortably, “it came in the right moment”

you gave a simple smile

he reached to take the cup from your hands

“thank you… y/n. right?”

you were surprised

“exactly”

you were about the get out the room but

“y/n?”

“yes?”

“do you speak spanish?”

“what?”, you spitted that out without even thinking

cough

“I mean…”, you tried to clean up the mess

but he smiled and laughed a little

your boss l a u g h e d a little

“sorry, I caught you by surprise. it’s just that I have a meeting with a team from Spain in one week, and I am not that good in spanish, so”

“I actually… do… speak some spanish.”

“oh!”, he seemed excited, “I asked the others but they don’t. spanish is not an easy language, so…”

“but, if you prefer, I could find a professional translator and-”

“don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not your job to do this, but it would be better if someone from the company could go with me, since we’ll talk about market research analysis and those business administration stuff, which is your field, right?”

did he read your resume too? you thought only ms. kim hired you

of course he would read, he’s the ceo

so he knew you could speak spanish too, it was on your resume

that’s why he asked so directly

“yes, yes, it’s our field”

he agreed, now playing with a pen in his right hand

“now, if you excuse me…”

“of course”, he said and even stood up as you bowed

people were really respectful in this company, huh

he was kinda nice tho

you thought he’d be cocky cuz he’s the ceo

but nah he was nice

anyways it would be a very good opportunity to be the official translator

you’d meet new people

alright, time to practice spanish again

the whole week was ok

you didn’t meet namjoon again, only kyeongmin, until the other week, on wednesday

one day before the meeting he was meant to attend to, he asked kyeongmin to send you to his office

“y/n, namjoon is calling you at his office. you’re attending the event tomorrow, right?”, she was so nice to you

you wonder what namjoon and her were of each other

“yes”, you smiled

“great! you can finish your work here later, ok?”, she pointed to the computer with her head

“thank you”

“tell him he owes me one”, she said when you were already leaving

when you stepped at his office

it was like

a whole new world lol

minimalist but so… chic?

it was so clean you almost took off your shoes to not dirty the floor

there was a wall full of books

he could even live there if he wanted to because it was so cool

his taste was great for interior design, in case he was the one who picked the stuff himself

there was a name tag made of glass with “kim nam joon” on it

he looked so powerful sitting there

but in the moment he saw you, he stood up and bowed too

“excuse me”

“please”, his hand pointed to the chair in front of that beautiful wood table

ok you were so mesmerized by that interior design lol

you sat in front of him while he was printing something

then you saw he was actually making a copy of the paper he was about to give you

it had like two pages and it was full of notes, but very organized

he put some glasses on and, dude, in that moment

he reached a new level of handsome

“how are you?”

you were caught by surprise a little

this is the type of question everyone asks but at the same time they don’t in situations like this

mainly when there’s something more important to talk about

“I am fine... you?”

“looking forward to the meeting. I’ll ask my driver to pick you up at 5pm so we won’t be late”

you nodded

“this”, he gave you the paper, “contains the main points we’re going to discuss tomorrow. I also made some notes and… if you have some question, go ahead”

namjoon’s personality was friendly and you could tell that by the way he talked and welcomed you

that’s why you read that paper and made all the questions you wanted

and wrote down some other notes

you’d definitely spend the rest of the day studying

it was your field, but you didn’t want to disappoint

“do you have any other question?”, he asked

“yes. what’s your spanish level?”

he smiled because of the question

you were very straightforward

he was probably expecting another question about the points he wrote down

“well… I can introduce myself, speak some simple sentences, but I understand more than I speak, so…”

“ok”, you said, writing down

he seemed curious about what you wrote

“it’s just because I need to know what do I have to translate”

“don’t worry, you’ll know”

you frowned

“you’ll notice my lost expression”, he said

“ok, so, I think this is it…”

“see you tomorrow, then”

“thank you, mr. kim”

“you can call me namjoon”

you only knew him for – what – a week

he walked to a sort of furniture where there were clean and ironed clothes

proving he could really live there

you stood up and went to the door, going back to your work space

thankfully there weren’t a lot of things to do there

because, hello-oh, you were still working for the company in the reunion with namjoon

you were organizing all the papers you had to bring home, then you noticed one of the files namjoon gave weren’t there

there were so many on his table that maybe you forgot it there

so you came back

the door was slightly opened and you knocked

you really did

but he didn’t answer so maybe he wasn’t there

and you just had to find your file

so you got in and he was coming back from the bathroom

you froze

his white shirt, usually two buttons opened

was now fully unbuttoned

a great physical was showing

tanned

he must work hard on gym

you tried to look at his face at the moment you saw each other

but your eyes kept coming back to his chest

he was starting to button again when he saw you

“oh I-”, just shut up, y/n

namjoon turned his back

“I’m sorry”, he said, looking at you over his right shoulder

“I’m sorry I walked in, I knocked but you didn’t hear…”

“no, that’s okay”, he said in a friendly tone, it really sounded genuine

“I think I forgot my file here”

it was exactly where you left it

“that’s it, thank you”

walking fast was complicated cause the sound of your heels in the ground broke the silence in a disturbing way

“excuse me, y/n”, namjoon said and you turned to him again

he was fully covered now

phew

“yes?”

“can you help me choose a necktie?”

he lifted two of them

“hm… I’d say the burgundy one”

“I wanted exactly this one”, he smiled and lifted the chosen one, “thank you”

you nodded and walked through the door

namjoon stayed there, immobile

deep down he wanted to ask something else so you’d stay there for another minute

he didn’t know you for long, ofc

but ever since you guys met

the way you were so carefree when talking to him

he liked that

it wasn’t because of how you look

even though he found you very pretty

but because of how you guys had some kind of connection when you spent almost an hour chatting earlier

maybe your vision, your ideas

he found that attractive

next day, you worked the whole morning

but kyeongmin told you to go home earlier because of the appointment

you thanked her and went home

a while ago, you bought a nice dress and maybe the good opportunity to use it would be now

it gave that serious neat vibe plus made you feel comfortable

you also made your hair in a nice way and when everything was finished

not one minute after 5pm

the car was in front of your home

the back door opened

not by itself

someone opened it but you couldn’t see

it was a fancy car btw

you didn’t know much about cars but who needs to know

everyone can tell when it’s fancy

you firstly looked inside and namjoon was already sitting there

you quietly sat there and closed the door

“hey”, he said

“hey”, you answered back

the informality though lol

you watched so many videos in spanish your brain was almost colliding

“just in time”

“I came home earlier”, you were avoiding eye contact

but you felt his lovely smile on you

“¿estás lista?"

“already practicing, mr. kim?”, you tried to sound unconcerned

he started looking through the window

namjoon was always very elegant

the fact that he’s tall probably helped a lot

but it was all about his posture

the way he speaks

walks

dresses

and his personality itself

he was dressing very simply

a white shirt, black blazer and pants

hair perfectly done as expected

“we arrived”, the driver said

namjoon and you got out from different doors and joined the place side by side, through the large stairs

the room was full of people and for a moment you felt insecure

you studied, you knew what you were doing, so why feel like this?

namjoon noticed the way you were touching your hair and straightening your clothes

“you look great”, he said, looking at you, “don’t worry”

the first group you two met were korean speakers, the second one had a lot of english speakers

and finally two men and one woman approached you

you kinda felt it was the spanish team you studied for but when you were wondering

they said “hola”, so you knew it

namjoon introduced himself pretty well in spanish

his accent was also good, it didn’t sound weird or try hard

he introduced you as “señorita y/l/n”

it was unexpected even tho you didn’t know why

when people started referring to you, you felt like it was the right time to get into the conversation

so you explained you’d be translating some stuff for namjoon

they were okay, probably used to it in meetings like that

you were nervous at the start but they were nice

plussss you were doing your thing

talking about your field

about everything you studied

in the end you felt like it was a very good opportunity to introduce yourself in this business world

namjoon had to talk to another team and he left you alone for some minutes

you thought you would panic but the conversation was very pleasing

after a long time talking to them, namjoon begged leave to eat something with you

you felt his hand on your back, close to your shoulders, but he wasn’t touching you

you just felt the presence of it, like, floating over

“you left me alone”, you said

“come on, you were doing so well”

you didn’t know what to answer so just kept walking until the place where drinks and foods were

“I thought your spanish was good but now I know it’s perfectly fluent”

he wasn’t looking at you while drinking

you both were leaning against a wall

“don’t be so kind”

“don’t be so harsh on yourself”, he looked at you and raised his eyebrows making a cute expression

your lips created a shy smile

almost three hours there making new partnerships and discussing about business administration, marketing, finance, etc

you were about to leave

while he was on the phone, you waited in front of the place

on top of the stairs, holding your coat and purse

“so”, you heard his voice from behind you

you turned to him

and for a moment

you looked up to him, since he was taller

he’s taller than anybody

and he looked into your eyes

INTO IT

you felt that

but it was just for a moment so he continued

“my driver can’t come”

“really? why?”

“he wasn’t feeling good, so he needed to rush to a hospital”

“ah… do we need to take a cab? I can call one”

“actually”, his hands on the pockets and his body swinging in a childish way, “he left the car here and went in a cab”

“where are the keys?”

“in reception, I got it already”, he showed it

“hm can you… drive or…?”

he smiled and scratched the back of his neck

“to be honest, I’m not good when it comes to control cars”

you kinda wanted to laugh but you bit your lower lip

“you can laugh”, he said

so you let it out

“I really thought you had a driver just for the fanciness”

“I wish”

“well, give me them, I’ll drive”, you reached out for it

he didn’t even think twice before giving it to you

so you leaded the way

he followed you to the car

and he was about to open the back door

“oh-oh, not there”, you said, “you’re coming in the front”

“oh I’m sorry”

you know when you’re anxious for something

then the thing happens so you feel an inexplicable relief

and it’s like you could conquer the world now it passed

you were feeling exactly like this

although namjoon was your boss, he was so nice that you felt like there was no big barrier between you two

so you felt comfortable with him

you knew the age gap wasn’t that big because he was one of the most successful CEOs under 30

“¿a dónde vamos, senõrita?”

“your spanish is improving, huh?”

he laughed

“you’re a good teacher”

you felt kinda keyed up

quickly back to normal

“I’ll take you home and I’ll call a cab from there”

“oh no, you can take the car”

“what? no, no, I’m okay”

“turn left”, he said

“pardon?”

“my house. you have to turn left now”

“oh ok”

your face started to burn lol thank God it was dark inside the car

and he giggled by himself

namjoon’s house was quite far

the location was private btw

the good thing was that you both chatted a lot along the way

“here you go”, you said taking off the seat belt as if you were about to get out too

“are you staying?”, he asked

your eyes widened

“eh? I’ll leave the car with you”

“no I told you to go home with it”, he said

“I just don’t feel comfortable…”

“don’t get me wrong, if you want to stay over, there’s a room for you”

“excuse me?”

“that’s why I started with ‘don’t get me wrong’, maybe you’re tired to cross the city. a cab will be very expensive”

“ok, so I’ll take the car”

he nodded, agreeing

“tomorrow I’ll give it back to you”

“you could give me a ride, though”

you laughed

“am I your new driver now? it seems like I have a lot of new positions”

“I didn’t mean that way”, he was being serious now

maybe he thought you were being serious too

you didn’t see it as overwork at all

because it wasn’t

you would have an extra payment for going with him to that meeting

driving him wasn’t a job, it was a pleasure

“I’ll come. can you be ready at 7:30am?”

“uh early”

“that’s the hour we all go to work, sir”

“I’ll think about a change of the office hours, señorita”

��is señorita a thing now?”

he shrugged

“see you tomorrow?”

“at 7am”, you answered

namjoon was standing in front of his place when you arrived there

you really thought he would be late but wow

looks like he was trying to impress

he was a fun person to talk to even being quite sleepy at that hour

when you guys arrived, you left the keys at the reception for the driver

and went to your office

namjoon went for his and that was the last time you saw him that day

you kinda smiled sometimes during the day cause you remembered the moments you guys had

talking to him was so nice you forgot he was your boss

kyeongmin and some coworkers asked you how the meeting went

and you felt good talking about that because, professionally, it was a great moment for you

you felt exactly where you should be and it made you create new goals for your career

the next week came

you both only saw each other for quick moments

he smiled at you every time

another week came and another one too

it was a very busy moment for the company after the meeting

new partnerships, new responsibilities

until the day he called kyeongmin

you were at her office in the moment she received the call

“oh yeah she’s here… yeah, okay”, she turned off the phone

“it’s namjoon, he asked if you could go to his office”

“yes, if you let me…”

she opened a bright smile

“y/n, don’t worry about that, he’s the ceo. if he calls you’re the one to say yes or no, just let me know”

“well…”

“I’m his sister by the way, in case you have mistaken me for his wife, girlfriend or anything”

you didn’t know what to answer

“no I didn’t have any thoughts about it”, you smiled shyly

liarrrr lol

you thought she was his girlfriend once

but after some days and seeing how they were acting with each other, you knew they didn’t have any love relationship

knowing they’re siblings made sense

you went to namjoon’s office quite nervous

even at the first time, you weren’t nervous like this and now your stomach was writhing

you knocked at his door and he opened it quickly

“hi”

oh heeey he looked really cute

you greeted him back and got in once he asked you to

“so…”, you said

“I’m about to promote you”

he saw your eyes getting bigger in surprise and couldn’t help but smile

“as my new driver”

“oh how funny”, your voice was funny itself after the shock

“it’s the only way we can have nice talks, right?”, he sat on his chair

“is it?”

ok where did your boldness come from

his expression looked like he was asking the same question

“ok, so, can you tell me why did you call me here?”

“just because” – he wanted to see you, but he didn’t finish the phrase that way – “the Spain partners really liked you”

“oh!”, the surprise was genuine

“you were great, they praised you a lot and asked me if you could be the official in-between person in our business with them”

you clearly didn’t have words to express the surprise

“I feel honoured”

“you should. so, is it a yes?”

“of course!”, you were about to say something else but a huge noise echoed

namjoon was getting a pen to write something but

SOMEHOW

he dropped the whole pen holder

very clumsy of him and it wasn’t the first time you noticed

you both immediately started to pick up the pens

that cliché thing happened, not gonna lie

your hands touched when you tried to pick up the same pen as him

coming back to your seats you tried to lighten the atmosphere

“do you break a lot of things or-?”

he laughed

“at this point I think being clumsy is already a personality thing I was born with”

“deep”, you said, which made him keep the smile

“ok, you’ll accept the offer, then?”

“which one?”

he frowned

“oh, the Spain team one, right? definitely”

“did I make another one…?”

you looked at his eyes

they said a lot, btw

and you found that one of the most attractive features of him

“I just thought you wanted to”

by his face he couldn’t believe you noticed

you were quite an observant and, come on, you were into him too

not to the point your body talk expressed it, because you were very cautious about love interest in the workplace

he crossed his fingers, hands on the table

“look, now that you noticed, I can’t help but say…”

“not that you were trying to hide at all, right, sir?”

the way you always had answers left him speechless

“I find you interesting”, he said, lowering his voice, “and I know work is not the best place for it”

“still you find a way to see me”

“y/n…”

“be honest. who are we lying to?”

namjoon stood up

wandering around the room, maybe trying not to make eye contact

“look, it never happened before”

you stood up too, listening

“I really like the way we connect. and y e s, I know it sounds deep but it’s not that deep, we bond well”

you agreed

“so if you want, we can meet again. somewhere else. maybe on a library, a café, idk”

you smiled at him

“yes, let’s do this”

“so it’s mutual”

“you’re my boss, I couldn’t let it show- oh, your collar”, you couldn’t concentrate looking at his messy collar

you just went closer to straighten it

“sorry, it was messy”

he watched you do that

now you were close

and you felt his eyes on you

you wanted to look back but the reaction would be uncertain

cause you’d probably do exactly what you did

your hand rose to his neck and namjoon automatically leaned down even closer

your lips touch and it was so quickly you didn’t even notice the exact moment

so you both did it again

as if the first kiss was just an attempt

when it felt like you did the right thing and wanted it again, that was when you just let it happen

namjoon’s kiss handn’t rush

anyone could get in but he didn’t care

you two were into the moment

your minds went blank and just the feelings of the kiss took control

his hand caressed your hair and put one lock behind your ear

so his fingers could softly touch your face

you touched his shoulders and the back of his hair

and you knew he liked it because of the smile between the kiss

he tightened his grip as your hand caressed his neck

when you finally stopped, eyes still closed and foreheads touching

the silence took over for a minute, until you were the first to cut it

“I think I have to go now…”

his face was saying please, stay for a while

“I’ll wait until we meet”

you smiled at him

“me too”

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